Originally Posted by
Heart's Shadow
... Mordokai threw his cloak around his shoulders and stormed out into the pre-dawn light. Happyturtle remained inside, weeping quietly on the tent floor. ...
The wind whistled, harsh and shrill through the encampment. Another reminder to the once paladin of the truth of power and the limitations of the path he had once trod. He moved with determination but strangely adrift of purpose; only anger fuelled his steps, a precious eggshell concealing the consuming void within. It would not crack. He would not crack.
"I am free, damn it," he cursed under his breath, slamming a black-gauntled hand into the palm of the other likewise borne. He continued into the night, seeking satisfaction ... seeking purpose, someone to discipline, to punish. Though he would never admit it, seeking distraction. Let ice cold order and red hot passion combine and shatter any resistance. Even his own.
Back at the tent, the flap flared once in a stiff breeze. Happyturtle still wept, but more slowly now. A sibilant voice whispered in the air, and she was instantly alert; sorrow tucked aside as her instincts shifted into overdrive, sensing her environment, assessing threats...
"Will you fall to lift him up?
Will you thirst to fill his cup?"
Soft, child-like giggling followed. The voice seemed to float about the chamber, yet Happy could feel none of the subtle shifts in the air or the temperature that might indicate an invisible opponent or an undead spirit.
"Daring, daunting, caring, flaunting
Like a moth before the flame
Pushing, pressing, cradling, cussing
To erase the new-wrought name."
Happy's face tightened. "You will not turn me from my goal," she rumbled.
"You have been where he has went
To current cause most dedicant
Sacrifice no blood for stone
The walls he builds he must disown."
"You are telling me nothing I do not know already," she replied disdainfully.
"Rage has filled where love once sat
Prideful ***** roost upon truth's mat
Courage displaced by bully's scorn.
All must die 'fore he reborn.'
"What is your role in this, then," she replied, watching outside now to see if anyone else in the camp had taken notice of the odd conversation.
"Mine is wisdom, clouded lens
broken, twisted, without sense
Half formed debt and half formed troth
Like lisping rhyme ensnared by both."
"Then why are you wasting time with me - should you not be attempting to help him," she retorted angrily.
"Speak could I that none would hear
Where eyes are shut and plugged the ears.
Madmen counsels sooth seldom followed
In the mire of pleasure's wallows."
"I know what I am doing. Do you?"
"Know? No. No knowing knowing, no slowing showing, no sheathing firebrands in quenching wombs, burning out futures to pay back memories. I do not know, I will not go, I am already there. But do I shift a weight, or add a stone, free him through freedom or turn him through terror? What a world within a world is given, when the heart is deeply riven; where the center cut in twain, healing poorly in the brain. I know not knowing, and do undone. What before the midnight sun? There the query, madam weary, that vexed and vexing upon your heart is hung.
What is your answer?"
Re: Shippingitp IV: Flattery Will Get You EVERYWHERE
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