This is not an exit

Razekiel Lykoi · 08-10-2010, 07:56 PM

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What was it like to live in Inferni? He could have gone on for years about the status of the clan, present and past, and yet never found a reason to cease talking. He had been born a prince in the earlier years of Inferni, not at its initial blossoming but he had been one of Kaena's earlier litters; back then he had been one of them, he and his flute. Perhaps it was the music that had saved him, perhaps it had been what Mother Earth cherished as his gift, though unintentional, and the reason she led him astray from the clan's hurtful ways. He owed his life to her, of course, since he had turned out differently than the rest; so many of his brethren and Lykoi bloodmates were corrupted by the stain in the air, before and after the fire that cleansed the land of hatred but destroyed Mother Earth like a permanent scar. Even after the fire Inferni had remained the hazing, terrible place it had always been. No amount of fire or bloodshed seemed to remedy it.

The smile on his face faded slowly, his straw eyes gazing off into nothingness. He hated the depression those thoughts always brought, the concept that he—something whole, something good—had been born in Inferni out of so many Lykoi and yet the only one truly saved from its corruption. How could he explain that to such a small, innocent thing? She had not the airiness of the miracle plant in her system to save her from similar oppression of those words made aloud, and so he made precautions. "It is a dark place, Inferni," Razekiel said, returning the joint to his lips and making a plentiful breath from it. "Not a place for children, man. Bad things happen there. Skulls on the borders like trophies, man, proof of hate and the system of war working in the place. Dancing a mad groove there, some bad mojo, you know? So much hate, it stinks up the fresh air. Mother Earth has given up on them." He shook his head desolately as if in mourning, his shoulders sagging.

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