tell me how to move on
09-07-2020, 11:38 PM
Though neither had been particularly pleased about it, Eligos had firmly insisted that both malinois stay behind in Aerie as he took this trip. He hadn't told his siblings where he was going, either, not wanting any of them to feel obliged to make the pilgrimage with him. He wanted to go it alone, this time.
To see the place where his father had died.
He thought he'd might have second thoughts before he reached the volcano's base, but he'd only grown somber and thoughtful, withdrawing into himself and making the journey without even remembering it passing, and then there he was, at the volcano's base. He stared up the slope passively, his face set, and then without showing any particular emotion despite the sudden shakiness within him, he started up the path to the top.
The heat and the sulfer-stink of volcanic activity was intense enough to make his fur crackle. And then, the lip of the volcano itself.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, shuddering, then opened them onto the hellish lavascape below him. Almost fitting, that his father had met his end here, when so often the Fallen God himself was associated with fire and the underworld, having been cast down from above. It was all symbolism and not literal, he'd always believed, but staring down into the oozing, bubbling, shimmering field of magma, he wasn't so sure it wasn't.
There was a tremble within his chest, and he wondered whether it was wrong that he couldn't cry for his loss. Was it strength, or was he broken? The Fallen God had told them it was strength, and that they should show no weakness. His own father had taught him that. So when he felt no tears burning behind his eyes, surely that was as it should be. But he wished there was some way, some way without dishonoring his father's memory with weakness, to show the pain and grief that still clawed at his chest. If he didn't have Aerie to focus on, to guide towards the future he envisioned, his family to protect and nurture, he didn't know how he would be able to keep going with this aching emptiness that time didn't seem to shrink.
To see the place where his father had died.
He thought he'd might have second thoughts before he reached the volcano's base, but he'd only grown somber and thoughtful, withdrawing into himself and making the journey without even remembering it passing, and then there he was, at the volcano's base. He stared up the slope passively, his face set, and then without showing any particular emotion despite the sudden shakiness within him, he started up the path to the top.
The heat and the sulfer-stink of volcanic activity was intense enough to make his fur crackle. And then, the lip of the volcano itself.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, shuddering, then opened them onto the hellish lavascape below him. Almost fitting, that his father had met his end here, when so often the Fallen God himself was associated with fire and the underworld, having been cast down from above. It was all symbolism and not literal, he'd always believed, but staring down into the oozing, bubbling, shimmering field of magma, he wasn't so sure it wasn't.
There was a tremble within his chest, and he wondered whether it was wrong that he couldn't cry for his loss. Was it strength, or was he broken? The Fallen God had told them it was strength, and that they should show no weakness. His own father had taught him that. So when he felt no tears burning behind his eyes, surely that was as it should be. But he wished there was some way, some way without dishonoring his father's memory with weakness, to show the pain and grief that still clawed at his chest. If he didn't have Aerie to focus on, to guide towards the future he envisioned, his family to protect and nurture, he didn't know how he would be able to keep going with this aching emptiness that time didn't seem to shrink.