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Posted on November 1, 2013 at 05:18:22 PM by A B R A X U S
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AS A ROARING LION, WALKETH ABOUT SEEKING WHOM HE MAY DEVOUR.” -----------------------------------1 Peter 5:8 The ashen monolith, in truth, seeks nothing and everything. He has not been drawn back by anything so admittedly salacious as familial ties or concern for the individuals he had once lorded over. If they had perished, if they had crumbled and disintegrated as handfuls of ash in the path of a writhing cyclone, why should he clutter his mind with recollections of their damnable facades… had they perished, then they were surely unworthy of the memories they might have left strewn about in the wake of their wasted lives. Abraxus had never been one taken with emotional attachment, the frivolity of it a laughable offense and a waste of time much better spent on more diabolical excursions. This is why he does not seek them out, he does not move to resurrect their ghosts from the ether: not Jaidah, or Teagan, or Lucian, not even Atreyu flickers upon the threadbare screen of his mind’s theater. In fact, in all of the time since his departure, and the moments have been long and lingering, Abraxus has allowed consideration of perhaps one individual, and even that had been superficial and fleeting. ”Stella.” The syllables leek from the gaping crevices of his mouth in that same haunting baritone that has always been his signature, speech that is garbled by the passing of years, words that must whisper past scars given by foes long since vanquished, and yet the tone is no less daunting than it ever had been. It is not vociferous, for he does not require such puerile displays to gain the attention of others. The gargantuan heft of his cranium swivels easily and slowly so that the murky depths of a dysfunctional eye, nestled snuggly in a bed of horrifying scars, fall heavily upon his daughter, looking… but not seeing. He does not need to gaze upon his only offspring in order to recall the details of her physique; he can recall her as flawlessly as if he had seen her only moments before. Her aroma curls deftly into the cavities of his olfactory, caressing every nerve, a villainous smile pulling gruesomely at his heavily knotted lips. ”Do tell me, in all of this time, what is it you have been occupying yourself with? What has become of the Moladion I had left behind?” .SIXTEEN.MALE.VAGABOND. |
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