“Your darkness will consume you, Tenebrae.” he bites back on a sigh, falling silent and letting the words hang between them where kindness could not. For all his brokenness, the shed-star wanted to try and mend bridges… but clearly it was not yet time. He has nothing to say in response to the suggestion of being patronizing, for the apology had been sincere. He was sorry – for all which had come to pass. Truly, Tenebrae had made his own bed, but the punishment of taking everything from him was not a fair response. The monk had lost his lover, his child, his sight… and the world still seemed to be working against him.
For that, Azrael is sorry.
Deep down, he knew his slight should be against Elena instead of Tenebrae. What fault was it of the monk, that his lover was torn between two men? He wondered briefly if the man he’d once called brother was as blindsided as he, when Elena had told him of another. Her words had sent his mind reeling, sickened with the though of another’s lips upon her, of another’s touch lingering in the darkness. He cannot understand why she toyed with both of their emotions so, making each fall irrevocably in love, while taking her time to decide between them. But despite all which had happened Azrael cannot punish the golden mare. He is too blinded by his own want of her.
They stand in the silence, day turning to night. The stars rise from the sea, but they bring him little joy. Instead, the dreamwalker clenches his teeth together until the muscles in his cheek begin to twitch. His eyes are cold, demeanor aloof, hope extinguished as he stares below at the field of mocking flowers, their shining faces too bright for his bitterness. “You should go,” he whispers low to Tenebrae without turning to look upon him. For it was clear the two would make no headway toward peace tonight.
He needed to be alone with his thoughts, to let the moondust kiss away the anger from his face, to feel the wash of cool sea breeze over his mane. He needed to drown in the silence, without Tenebrae standing as a reminder of their indiscretion, still too raw to forget. And he needed her, real and warm against him, reassuring him all over again that she would choose him and follow where his light would lead. For only Elena’s sunlight could chase away the stain of Tenebrae’s shadows, and the black curl of jealousy in his heart.
@Tenebrae
