a king walks among us
He doesn’t see the golden man, (tarnished now), until he unwittingly stumbles through the brush, stopping short at the sound of a voice ahead. El Rey’s breathing quickens and he wonders if he has been recognized - is it time to go, finally? - before he sees that the one before him cannot. Mud and bruises and milk-white eyes mar what even he knows to have been someone godlike in prior years. Rey is hardly impressed by the owl, but supposes that she could render him blind just as easily. He stays where he is.
”I am a traveler,” he says, flatly, quietly. ”Nothing more. I mean no harm.” He does not step back to reassure the pair; an overwhelming self-assuredness and an oblivious nature keep him still and silent. They cannot harm him, and he will not harm them, so long as the situation does not require it.
@Somnus
”in blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I’ll drown,“
I pledge you now, to death they all are bound,
