Home
set fire to the sea
IP: 82.19.140.112
Posted on May 19, 2014 at 02:07:01 AM by flynn

“Nice to meet you, Rochambeau” Flynn laughed, before gesturing in the direction of his own familiar, “this is Denahi. I warn you, he’s a cake thief.” The husky stopped what he was doing and glanced up at his fairy with an almost hurt expression on his face. He couldn’t hold it. A second later his tail began to wag, and his mouth dropped open to reveal a long pink tongue. “Guilty!” he barked, nudging at the cake box with his nose, “but I prefer the term ‘cake liberator.’” It was strange; Flynn thought as he laughed again, that life had slowly settled into a new routine, as if nothing had changed. It had, of course it had; he had changed, and his blood money remained hidden in the bottom of the great wooden chest at the foot of his bed. He didn’t regret what he had done, he supposed he should, and the very idea would have horrified him once, but he was not that boy anymore. It had been long indeed since he had been that carefree child who had played on the beach, quoting Shakespeare and feigning sword fights. The world, he had realised, didn’t really care what he did; he didn’t change any of its fundamentals. Whatever he did the sun kept on rising, and the world kept on turning, time kept passing and all he could do was listen to his bruised heart.

Flynn had never had a secret before either, at least, not one so dark as the one he now carried. That was a strange feeling too, and he would be reminded of it at the strangest moments. He tried not to think of Castiel and what he would have said, and he wondered sometimes, when he lingered on the edge of sleep if perhaps he understood Henry a little better now.
“He’d have been a surprise I suppose,” the man grinned, his blue eyes fixing themselves on Birch’s face, “had you met many familiars before he showed up?” He knew that his mother had been astonished when a racoon had suddenly appeared and started talking to her. “Are you settling in? And Torram?” Flynn had been born and raised in Shaman, but sometimes even he was taken aback by some of its stranger aspects. He could not imagine what it must be like if you came from somewhere else where magic was less common.

He listened to Birch talk with interest. He worried about his brothers. They had not given him any reason to be concerned, in fact, sometimes he thought they had dealt with their father’s death better than he had. He was still very aware however that he was now the closest thing to a parent they had, and they deserved better. They deserved Castiel. The same old anger began to stir in his stomach, awoken from its uneasy slumber, but he pushed it back, hiding it behind a smiling face. Flynn remembered when he had been their age, and all he had wanted to be was a poet and storyteller. He had dabbled in philosophy and literature. His life had turned out so differently; he was, after all, primarily a pirate hunter. It was a strange occupation for a man who had always possessed a sensitive poet’s soul.

“Borrow away,” he replied with a nod, giving up and taking out another couple of cakes, one each for the dog and otter and handing them over. “It will do them good to get out of the castle. I think they struggle to find people their own age to play with. They were not meant to live at court. We were never that kind of person, we were just...us.” A sigh followed as he dusted the icing sugar from his hands and onto the floor. “Do they seem okay to you, the twins? So often these days I have no idea what to say to them.”

photography by LexnGer and jcurtis4082 at flickr.com





Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:
Check this box if you want to be notified via email when someone replies to your post.






Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->