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 Long live the king...

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yanamari

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Join date : 2010-08-10

PostSubject: Long live the king...   Thu Aug 12, 2010 2:05 am

Something happened. To say that could not be more of an understatement. Every day and night, something was happening.

Marcus sat across from Lynn, playing half-heartedly upon the game board. And the girl seemed to wrestle with her own thoughts. She moved a piece. He responded. Glancing to the balcony, he could only wish he did not feel so suddenly like a prisoner.

What...would he do.... What could he do...

The door opened with Dane and Opal arriving. Marcus gave a smile watching them return safely. Lynn leaped up and ran over, full of questions and concerns. The two were growing close again, if slowly.

Looking upon the board, yet another moment of oddness filled him. Every single piece set on a white square. Not a single one in darkness. Never had something like that happened in a game. But drinks and food were needed, the world moved on. And he had to rush to keep up.

~ * ~

And so eyes opened. Beyond the veil of sleep and dream, he rose with a feeling akin upon remembrance. His remained a life in shade, hidden and untouched. How his heart beat, slowing in a steady cadence. Yet what stirred him so early?

A shadow laid in the doorway, a figure he recalled from a distant memory of fear. There he stood upon the battlefield. The land soaked in life's blood. Solumn the lines faced one another. Percivale held his place near at hand with Solars. Brigid gave whispered advice, yet the Eclipse believed this the true path. They had to reach a settlement with the Fae king, if ever he would deign to meet them. For many nights and days, they rallied with a singular call. Meet, talk, compromise.

Yet the king refused. In waiting was victory. Yet did the soft voice of a storyteller did tell this king that such a victory would remain hollow to his people. So did Sireeliar finally arrive, grand in the promised horrors of eternal suffering. Only too truly did they accept his threats. In time, even the Solars feared heaven would not win that war.

Percivale recalled with painful clarity the visage of that noble. A being he could never forget.

Rising from his slumber, so suddenly, in the very halls of his dead city of Sijan, the Sidereal looked upon that face again. The king come to life.

"I require your aid, ancient of destiny. My time comes. Yours returns. And the fate of this world shall spin freely yet again."
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PostSubject: Re: Long live the king...   Thu Aug 12, 2010 2:32 am

Demetrius settled in his corner. A single pillow upon bare ground, shadows from the corner of the pavilion providing little in perceived privacy, yet enough for one of the Maiden of Secrets. Arrayed before him was a simple unraveling of leather, marked with swirls and etchings of the skies, the stars, the movement of fate. With a flick of wrist, he tossed small gems, stones, carved symbols upon each.

They fell where they must, all upon a heightened moment.

Only the dark around him shown Demetrius' fear and anger, so sudden and complete. He knew this particular array. Had seen it once before. So much had been lost then, in the folds of time and dark. Yet of this one thing, he would never forget.

The night he destroyed Sijan and lost his brother's love. Not a single piece laid upon an intersecting line, or in shade. Only in clarity, in light, whole and apart.

"Percivalle....no..."

His fingers curled in the pillow under him as he raised over the board, the remnants of his heart twisting in anguish.

He would lose...everything. Again.

~ * ~

Sireeliar awaited Percivalle in the doorway of his home. The brightness surrounding the fae king dimmed as the door to his most inner chambers closed. The fae was marked in the horrors of passing past so many ghosts. His hair laid tattered, skin scored and pained, eyes glimmer holes. He pitched forward then and every fear that laid in Percivalle disappeared. He did not reach the king in time to catch him.

With trembling hands did he turn him over, only realizing then how truly fragile the seeming was. Pulling him into his lap, he brushed back Sireeliar's wisp hair to lay his eyes upon the creature more man than fae.

"Why did you come so far? And to be touched so?" The Sidereal shook his head.

The fae gripped his arm, lifeblood more red than gold staining his tunic. "I listened to the words you whispered. Those of you, of the river dragon, of the lady so pale. All those ages ago, I listened and perceived. I left this world, and returned with fresh eyes. Human eyes."

A cough racked his form as he clung for desperate breath. "Percivalle, ancient one, the celestials will tire of the truce. The abyss knows too well of what was, and dreams of what shall be. Time births a painful decision." His fingers clawed their way to lay on the Sidereal's face. "They will reach against us. Against you. Which holocaust should be chosen? I never had a chance to thank you, Percivalle."

"We die, and the world will be poorer for it. You must learn the truth...as I have." The last he sputtered with as much heartbreak as any man or spirit could feel.

Percivalle leaned over the man-fae, studying the face as the seeming of a king slipped from it. His power waned, unable to hold the shaping, until only Sinclair remained. With a widening smile, the Sidereal pulled Sinclair closer. "I remember you now. The minstrel. A fae, I cannot save. A human, I can."

Tilting back Sinclair's jaw, Percivalle almost chuckled at the look of confusion and surprise on his face. Their lips met, a deepening kiss not sexual in any way. They shared in that moment, memories and stories of every man, woman, and child of Sijan leaving Percivalle to join Sinclair. For hours their lips held the other, essence pouring ever stronger, ever brighter. In the end, the Sidereal would cease to be, and Sinclair would awaken far more whole than he ever had been.
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