| i was the better man
It would seem my peace is determined to be interrupted, the sound of another seeing one ear curve backwards before the perfection of my head was given to follow and the gold of my eyes were truly wasted as they fell upon the snow-coloured child that had come to sit herself beside me. How dare she attempt to tarnish my space I do not know, though my eyes narrow in discord at this intrusion. I care not to look upon her, much less converse with her- for surely my words would be wasted on a young, feeble mind of wretched blood. An infection and little else, though less cancerous then her brothers I saw little need to indulge the girl as she sat. She would be ignored, for I saw no need to do otherwise, she unworthy of my time and attention. Perhaps Mother would come to take her away, to hide her within her den and remove this shame from the world as already she should have done. Never before have my thoughts towards Mother been given to hold a tone so negative and yet she has disappointed me and my mind is not given to take disappointment well. Perhaps the girl child was confused, perhaps she had believed me to be Mother- for it is I alone whom was made in her very image, perhaps she waits for me to roll so she may nurse like the parasite she is though I care not to indulge any part of her as she simply sits. She is silent, in the least and perhaps for that trait alone I am thankful.
I must seek Eden, later, at a time when I alone choose to engage his words. I will speak with him of this taint to our blood and how best it might be removed. How…unfortunate it should be if he is given to think otherwise and if that is so then perhaps it is brother Anselm I shall seek for he surely will see otherwise. I am content in these thoughts, my lips curved upward into a smile of beauty unspeakable as I consider these things that bring pleasure to my mind- ignoring still the child that sits beside me as if beginning for the attention I will not give. Why she is the colour of snow I do not know, she is as Anselm- though not. The white that adorns him is untainted, the blood that flows in his veins is unmarred as her own. Ah- my mind is so very filled with these thoughts, would Mother disapprove of them? Perhaps I do not care. I am belligerent when I choose to be, can perfection not be belligerent?
“Do you know of your imperfection? That I wonder.”
It is the first time, the first, that I have ever spoken in words other then my native tongue and the language of the pure that was given to me by those in Diveen and yet I care not to waste such words on this child that cannot know them, offering her instead the pleasure of the tones of my voice. She should enjoy them surely, embrace them, for they hold such sweetness in their offered lyrics. I am grown curious you see, curious to know if the girl child understands her failings in this life- or at least, those of her brothers- for as long as they live her own form is tainted, for she is born of their blood as I am not and I wonder does she know? Does she understand? I care not to look at her, my gaze lingering still on the ocean as it rolls and thunders. When she is worthy of my attention she will have it in full. Until then I am far more intrigued by the ocean waves.
“Do you know of me? That I wonder too.”
Ayal
for i was a ruler amongst men |