12-17-2020, 04:37 AM
No sooner had the crown come to rest upon new brow and herald forth a time of transition had the naysayers clamoured to be heard. Once docile their displeased comments, though no less were they steeped in slander, derived from a place more base, a slight they must accept for beyond them the choice. In this unified their force, open their admittance of inadequacy, tiresome grown in a short period of time.
Heavy the heat laden air that occupied the forge, rang with vitriol as the once molten stone echoed each in turn, given back in reverberations that devolved each voice into mere sound. Had it been only such, empty sound without cause that might awaken some sense of unease. It had been exceedingly naive of Dylluan to foster a misguided hope, routine found and settled into once more, endeavours their own without external distraction. The days had lessened those more boisterous in their objections, proven empty words without bite. He knew these people, however, understood the simmering rage harnessed within daily proceedings, not exerted but sharpened. A mere whelp occupied the throne, distinct the lack of the deceased King with only his word to impart his conviction that suitable was his chosen replacement.
Sudden exhale left nostrils to flare and a clatter announced his forfeit, unfinished dagger and tools alike allowed to fall against the stone he worked upon. Assured their safety, even lacking his presence to watch over, the respect garnered from his long life all that he enjoyed of his age. All the same slow his steps as he followed familiar route, felt the eyes that grazed dusty coat, the brief hush broken by a chorus of voices. Soon they fell, all that occupied the halls he tread the resounding click as claw tips struck the stone, even such at times fallen silent as he stepped beyond the open gate.
Momentary his pause beyond the threshold, drawn in a breath that he allowed to linger, expelled through nose before next was drawn in. Repeated the cycle, each breath bringing with it the tinge of sulfur, but fresher the air beyond the subterranean city. So long may he linger and departure proved imminent, along the rocky landscape Dylluan solitary in his walk that lacked all purpose, wanting only solitude to clear his mind.
[table][tr][td][/td][td]Heavy the heat laden air that occupied the forge, rang with vitriol as the once molten stone echoed each in turn, given back in reverberations that devolved each voice into mere sound. Had it been only such, empty sound without cause that might awaken some sense of unease. It had been exceedingly naive of Dylluan to foster a misguided hope, routine found and settled into once more, endeavours their own without external distraction. The days had lessened those more boisterous in their objections, proven empty words without bite. He knew these people, however, understood the simmering rage harnessed within daily proceedings, not exerted but sharpened. A mere whelp occupied the throne, distinct the lack of the deceased King with only his word to impart his conviction that suitable was his chosen replacement.
Sudden exhale left nostrils to flare and a clatter announced his forfeit, unfinished dagger and tools alike allowed to fall against the stone he worked upon. Assured their safety, even lacking his presence to watch over, the respect garnered from his long life all that he enjoyed of his age. All the same slow his steps as he followed familiar route, felt the eyes that grazed dusty coat, the brief hush broken by a chorus of voices. Soon they fell, all that occupied the halls he tread the resounding click as claw tips struck the stone, even such at times fallen silent as he stepped beyond the open gate.
Momentary his pause beyond the threshold, drawn in a breath that he allowed to linger, expelled through nose before next was drawn in. Repeated the cycle, each breath bringing with it the tinge of sulfur, but fresher the air beyond the subterranean city. So long may he linger and departure proved imminent, along the rocky landscape Dylluan solitary in his walk that lacked all purpose, wanting only solitude to clear his mind.
such a daring disguise, look me dead in the eyes and cry when every stare has you gasping for air. won't you tell me why you're here, there's blood in the bag leaking love isn't fair, you can crawl back from where you came because I don't hear you the same
code by Wisker