It was a pleasant enough evening I suppose- if anything could be said to be pleasant when it was threatening rain and at least….four and a half degrees too cold for my liking. I can sense a storm, after all, I can detect static in my fur and frizz is really not something I am willing to deal with right now. I am entirely too old for it. I managed to continue my lope all the same, long limbs extending across the open plans of Diveen, the earth thickly layered with the scent of so many of my relatives in this little utopia I had built from my own blood- a utopia missing only the presence of Devil and yet if he was determined to remain belligerent and live in a hole that was infested with insects (I had seen at least wo and thus infested) then that was his own choice. Maybe I cared about him, maybe, though I had lived far to long in denial of any true emotions to allow them to seep through now as I stumbled lightly, white form jerked to a halt as I moved to angle my ever-handsome head back and towards what I am assured is a fallen branch of some kind. I hadn’t seen it, I suppose, my violet gaze remained as vibrant as ever and yet it would be a lie to say that my vision was not entirely….hazy, the edges a little blurred, dark patches inclined to appear and perhaps were I capable of seeing my own reflection I would have seen that whitened film that rested over my gaze and displayed how little vision I truly had remaining. I could still see light and shapes and anything truly close and yet distant things, objects that came from the side, fast moving prey….was no longer within my visual reach. I saw no need to mention it however, why bother? I had built a kingdom, an empire, one that provided food without my having to do anything at all. I am the King of Kings and I ruled so I could live, so that when I grew older there would be others to serve me as they should.

I had been fortunate I suppose, then again ‘fortune’ was such a subjective word. I made my own luck, I made my world, I made my kingdom because I had the balls to do what others wouldn’t and maybe I do have an ego- but why shouldn’t I? Half Moladion is ruled by my descendants or my loyalists and in time most packs will be passed to an heir holding my blood. They had laughed, so many years ago when I told them of my plans, that in time this world would be my own and I had merely been stubborn enough to live to see such a thing very near completed. Spirane has forever held favour with Diveen, an alliance I made with Boneclaw that stands to this day, Diveen is ruled by my own daughter and will soon see my grandson lead in turn, Glorall bows to my Eden, Asteraia is ruled by another Jaidah and yet if what I suspect is true then her heirs are also my own, Taviora is ruled by a male once of Diveen whose son has chosen my granddaughter for his mate- even Iromar is not immune as it would believe. How marvellous it is….to rule the world, compensation perhaps, for failing sight and hearing and aching limbs. Why I have lived so long I hardly know, perhaps that is my punishment- to last long enough to see those I care for die, to outlive some of my own children and yet…..I always was very good at defying death. Such a thought brought a smirk of sorts to my lips, an impish grin even at my age as I lifted myself atop my favoured stone beneath a single tree. Devil and I had shared such a tree once, in the days of Paracon when the world was bright and the wolves were far more fierce. Maybe I was an Assassin- but I brought peace to those lands too. Then again- even Peace is subjective.

I chuckled softly, eyes inclined towards the rapidly setting sun and the flicking of lights still within my capabilities to see, as bright and flaring as I remembered. Sky Fire, Isola had called it as a child and yet for now I force such nostalgia back, pushing away the memories of Kael and Lucifer and Saintly, of Zeivah and Eris and Letum, Cat Eye and Axel and Archeron and so many others whom danced within the forefront of my memory. I have seen so much- known so many- perhaps even committed crimes I am not so wholly….proud to call my own yet I regret nothing. Assassins do not regret and nostalgia is a disease of the mind, one I am left with far to often these days. I pulled myself upright, ignoring the ache in my limbs and the tired hold of my frame, forcing myself to sit tall and proud as once I did, eyes fixated upon that setting sun, relishing those last few heated rays- casting that same shadow I always had over each and every thing I owned. Not to old to take pleasure in it still. Maybe I was twenty four but I saw no need to let that diminish and ego well and truly earned.

For in those few moments, just briefly, when the weakening sun hit just the right place in the sky- Diveen was bathed in red and for that one single moment in time it appeared as Trenus had. It became my Kingdom again and the shadow I cast seemed taller, straighter and younger- the wolf I had been…..just for a moment, seated atop my plateau pack where I most assuredly belonged. It was nice to be King again, even if only for a minute in time.



h e y e l
The Original Angel