shackles

Erystotle had been hesitant to return to the borders after he’d been attacked those weeks ago. He was fully recovered physically but not so much internally. Chimera had detected his hesitance and obvious nerves when they neared the edges of Fenmyre or if had to go near them. Erys was blessed to have a King who was so attentive and intuitive to him. Besides his adopted mother there hadn’t been anyone so concerned for his well being in his life.

That was one reason Chimera had so easily become a cornerstone in Erys’ life. The man encouraged Erys out into the world and encouraged him to lead them wherever his feet would take him. They’d eventually make it to the runestones, though Erys felt more distracted by Chimera by the day, walking in a straight rhythmic line didn’t always happen.

It was hard not to let the runestones capture his attention, and pearlescent paws carried him from Chimera’s monochrome side. Curiously he strode further, more confidence in his gait than there had ever been. He had Chimera at his side and there was nothing to fear. A scent that was all too familiar filled his senses, and horror overtook his expression as he was forced to pause.

Ghostly silver gaze landed on the battered, broken form before him. The smell made him believe for a moment that he had found a dead man. One who had been tortured in many of the same ways Erys had been. Then he heard the pitiful whines and sounds of a death soon to come, his jaw had already dropped but the glint of the sun off bindings. "He’s still alive.” He spoke unbelievably as he rushed forward, he knew a little about healing, but he didn't have anything on him. This man was close to death, and he didn't know if he could really do much.


"Erystotle Atlas"