black pearl

POSTED: Sun Sep 16, 2018 9:24 am


It was the richness of the season that allowed Rhaegar to remain adequately fed, though barely so. In the Outpost, the boy had preferred other activities to hunting. He’d been born into a close-knit society that’d shared their resources and he had wanted for nothing while growing up with his parents and siblings. It'd not occurred to him that he'd be forced to fend for himself so far from home. He’d never known the sharp teeth of hunger until his guardian’s demise, but he could feel each individual rib now if he felt along his side. Any remaining puppy fat was quickly consumed by a body that desired more than it was given.

And he had so much to do.

He’d taken the twin-blade from the body, but he knew not how to wield it. Shadows whispered to him sometimes, speaking of past times and the ways of old terrors. But there was no muscle memory to lead the hand that wielded the weapon, and there was no elegance or finesse when he attempted to swing it. He’d been fuelled by an uncharacteristic fury at this discovery. Technically a child still, his body was weak and needed to be taught. The beast that cradled his soul had no use for him in his current state.

Today, he felt more like himself, and the sunrise didn’t burn quite so bright against his velvet hues. It felt good. The boy’s gaze was downcast however, sweeping low across rocks and dirt and the sickly viridian of the oncoming autum -- his first. His grandfather’s sword weighed him down with every step and his back ached with the experience. It’d never meant to be his, but he’d taken it by force, coerced by something terrible, guiding his reluctant hand with an unyielding grip.

Perhaps that was why it felt like such a terrible burden.

The soldier’s scent was fresh upon the path he followed, like winking dew sprinkled across a meadow, leading the way. His limbs felt heavier with each step, but the boy forced himself into a trot, intent on catching up to the individual he pursued while crisp morning air burned his lungs and turned his breath ragged.

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Crown of Love