Burn Your Kingdom Down

The silence was not something he was unaccustomed to. They, the things of the world, did not flock to him as though they flocked to one another. He was a pariah, pushed out by society, shoved into a glistening lack of existence. And yet, he so adored his lack of exaltation, for he bore the shadows so well, allowed them to attach themselves so finely and provocatively to the fine tendons that strapped his body. He was the master of the shadows, a curse, and yet a blessed whimper in the dream of a child. A blessing in his destruction...how beautiful.

Just as though the world had not already offended him enough by its remarkable and unarguably amazing representation, he would stand in awe at its rudeness to steer the white silhouette towards him. But oh, this leper king was not white, but pink, but different, but embroidered in the finest golds. He was cloaked in riches. Perhaps he was the god of this region, a worshiped saint. Cepheus desired to pick him apart. Gaze would adorn the proud boy, serpent glare locking onto him, admiring his craft, detesting his words, and comforting himself in his boldness. It was an antic so lost. But, he had no nerves to grab hold and climb onto, so the beast was left unaffected.

"Size does not matter. How one utilizes that size is a different topic entirely," the words would fall without any kind of emotion, for he did not need it. They would roll from his tongue in indifference, and beside the sideways glare he had offered the champion lord, he gave him nothing more, only turning his gaze back towards his soon to be empire. The life of mediocrity did not fall well on the shoulders of one so tyrannical.