At the densest section of the forest, there is a brief clearing where a steady flow of water streams down the slippery stone staircase. The water here is cool and refreshing. Staircase Falls has been rumoured to be the place where reality is met by magic; where peaceful spirits dwell. They are rumoured to have healing powers that are used to help the desperately hurt, though no one has experienced this, except for, perhaps, Kaive.
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Posted on January 22, 2015 at 09:47:17 PM by ROMULUS
He listened to every single word her throat spat out. He lost a few of them to his rage, but he kept listening, quiet. He stayed stock still. Listening. A single irregular drop of sound alerted him to perhaps an extreme emotional change—and he was right. He could smell the salt and iron all the way from over here. It was so distinct, that his domes turned—perhaps he was hoping to even hear the thing as it fell to the earth. He could imagine it bursting into crystal shards. And a snap of a leaf had him thoughtful on her being. She was moving. And that. That was something he didn’t like. She needed to stand firm. She was a mountain and he was a hurricane. Mountains cannot lower their sights just because of a small storm. They need to keep steady. Remove all doubt from the world around them. Eriel was a mountain. He knew she was strong. His words were harsh, but he was hoping to only strengthen her armor against all the evil this world could provide. But here she was. Here she was, figuratively kneeling on one knee, breathing irregular. She had been punched in the gut. She was withdrawing. And that was totally, irrevocably and absolutely unacceptable. Suddenly the demon turned on his heel, leaving a rather strange impression on the dirt from which he had just been standing on—and he heaved his weight across the falls, knowing that he wasn’t being mindful of the rocks. He didn’t care. Tooth and dagger unsheathed, the brute allowed his body to crack as it collided into her own. Romulus wasn’t heartless. He wasn’t going to push her to the ground. If she knew that he, with everything that was going on, feeling like shit, and then was physically pushed to the ground… perhaps she would understand why he only backed her up, his flesh against her own. The contact sent electricity running down every vein that was imbedded within the skin that now smashed into hers. “I KNEW!” He screamed. Romulus had never allowed his voice to rise above regular volume before—not since he was a child. And the freedom he felt now as he pressed the lyrics into her cloak was something that opened the cage to the cell where he had put away a part of him. The part of him that held her as something unreachable. She was a vein of opal in a coal mine. “I pulled away from you because I KNEW. I KNEW that you would be looked down on! I WANTED YOU TO MOVE BACK.” He pressed against her more fervently. “I wanted you to move back and find someone more suitable. Cancel the engagement so that you could rise to power with someone who wasn’t a BURDEN from the very moment he was born!” Oh god. Oh god. What had she done? Was it in her power and hers alone to bring out a beast that would otherwise be lost in the sands of some ancient pyramid under the desert? “Don’t you see?” His voice gave way to a captured whine as he kept going. If she were to push against him, he would remain stock still, pushing back. If she fell, he would follow her. If she was against a tree, he would slam his words into her face. “All of it. Every single jerk ass move, every single smirk, disgustingly sinful grin, everything was for you.” A groan pulled into his voice as he trembled with rage, disappointment, sorrow, grief, loss. “Can you see what it was like? To want something SO bad. To desire a kiss, a small touch, an exchange of words—but know that it would dirty the one who you viewed as a blessing? Can you see how it felt? A creature from hell doesn’t deserve to even think of a being with wings. So how could I ever hope to be with you?” His mind was elsewhere right now. It was in his days where he had eyes. Where they were useful to him. And all he could see was her face. It was everywhere. It flooded his rationality. It clouded his thoughts—poisoned the words on his tongue and took him under a wave, never allowing him too much air to breathe. He would never recover from her, would he? “I knew the words that never came directly. I knew the looks, the thoughts that passed through heads. I knew, as soon as she fell, that the bastard would be punished for his inability to act the part of a hero.” The next question was answered like a train on a track. He had it right in him. She was going to hear it. “And how would I know, Eriel?! How would I know what it feels like to have others there to support you? To have those people be ripped away from you? The only thing I know is resisting the something that you want so badly it hurts to even think about. He charged into his next lyric debut with room to spare. He was going to reveal to her everything he had ever kept quiet. His secret. His one—real, true, absolute secret. That he loved her. “I’ve always loved you, Eriel. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you. I felt like I had won a war that would change history when I was chosen instead of Remus. But how the fuck could I ever hope to be something of value when all I ever was, was garbage? Being who I am, the unwanted offspring of a goddess, I knew it. You were meant for greater things. So how is that I still can’t see anyone but you?” He screamed, throat latching together and choking him. “THIS DARKNESS IS ONLY FILLED WITH THE WRONGS IV’E COMMITTED FOR YOU. You’re the temptation I can’t accept. A golden apple. I can wish and hope for it all I want, but it’s never to be touched by those banished by their own mother. My choice to ‘protect’ you may have been a foolish one in your eyes, but I did all I could to throw you in the direction of something more desirable. Not me.” He backed off, thankful for the first and most likely last time ever that he didn’t have the ability to cry. But he had strained himself so much that blood came from a few of the more larger scars, still thick with healing. So… perhaps tears of blood? They weren’t pronounced. They were miniscule—but he could feel their hot trails as they seeped into the red fur of his palette. “I’m happy,” he joked, smiling with disdain and despair. “I’m happy.” Lies. “I’ve finally matched myself with what I’ve always been seen as.” A breath. “Garbage.” And he ran. He wouldn’t turn back for her. And if she pursued him, he would run faster. He would hide. He hoped to the fucking terrible gods that ruled this world… that they would never cross paths again. …  |
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