that boy is a monster

Ezekiel de le Poer · 07-02-2011, 11:10 AM

[html]

Why had he come here?

It was a simple, terrible reason. He loved his sister more than he loved Alaine. He loved most people less than he loved his twin, his blood-red shadow that was his own reflection. They should have been born with other coats, he reflected, knowing that his only hid the shadows and depth of the monster within. At least his hands betrayed him; at least his hands were red and spoke of what terrible things he had done. Yet the sun too, was hard and cruel. The sun, like God, took without mercy.

The horse, with her deep eyes and her instincts, she knew. Ezekiel could not bear to look at the animal. Stillness broken by subtle motions, subtle warnings that even he did not control. When the mare refused to close the distance as she might have months ago, the Aquila knew in his heart that the bond between them—by extension, the bond between he and Alaine—was broken.

“Nothing is wrong,” he lied. How natural it sounded. He hated the tone of his voice. “My father has stepped down as Aquila. I lead in his place.” Along with harpies who sought to destroy one another. Harpies restrained only by protocol, only by the more terrible feelings of guilt and doubt. “I can’t be your apprentice anymore. I’m sorry.” Flat. Sorrow clung to his tone, true sorrow for what he had done, but to speak of it was to speak of his own death. Better to choose this; better to sever a wounded hand before the infection spread.

Login




Remember me Lost Password?