LIQUID SMOOTH

‘As do I.’ His reply sent a quickened rush of a pace directly into her heart, allowing for her blood to run hotter and burn her very limbs. Is that so? Absinth contemplated his sincerity, the softer tone in his voice; and knowing this man was not one to fully divulge all his true thoughts and emotions- she was willing to accept the simplistic response as his honest sentiment. Fine by her. She was thoroughly interested in seeing out their bond as well. But what sort of roulette had they entered into with this unspoken pact..?

Her rather mischievous little question certainly did wonders to brighten her features, but more so did her mood lift as Absinth set her eyes upon Aresenn’s grin. His tone teasing her as the fiery man reached for the bottle of spirits again. She would shift her sights on the campfire again as he did so, waiting until he was ready to hear. “Don’t worry. This story is a little different. Courtesy of my dear eldest sister, who decided to take the arduous effort and time to fact check. Silly isn’t that? But it mattered to her, to separate truth from lies.” Absinth meant nothing by her wording, no hidden jab at their conflict- her emeralds lost to the flames before promptly snapping back up in his direction and locking there. “This is the story of a man, who believed he was a God… This god was born to a Pharaoh and his Wife. At birth he was adorned with pure ivory fur, the likes of which none have ever seen again. With eyes of fire he was hailed as a gift from the Heavens, and they screamed of the divinity in his blood.” Absinth’s emeralds flashed intensely, moving to sit upright as she paused the tale. Then, she began again- “A Prince, this prince was given everything his heart ever desired. Lessons upon lessons of whatever he wished. And unlike some other royal wolves, he was obsessed with knowledge. From intellectual pursuits to weaponry, and even tarnishing his own paws with blood in battle. He was the perfect prince. In theory.” Absinth cackled, mirth blanketing over her features; as well as contempt. “But this perfection was only skin deep.” She moved to grasp the bottle of alcohol, taking a swig she sighed heavily as it burned her throat on the way down. Though it did help, she returned to his gaze with a delightful smile that did not reach her eyes. “The Prince could experience no true emotion. He was unfeeling, cruel, and masochistic… It did not take long for his mind to stray, to begin toying with his servants and the common folk. Masochism turned into sadism, which turned him into a full-blown serial murderer. Safety from the prince was not even allotted to his own mother and father. In one night the prince, younger than you or I, usurped the throne in a coup solely for his own amusement. He found it funny to rip his sire’s throat out, and to rape his own mother as his mercenaries ravaged the kingdom.” -Pause- “Then, he vanished and never returned.” Absinth watched Aresenn’s face for changes in expression, eyeing the bottle for a moment before she cleared her throat and set into a new tone. One low and thoughtful, every word wrapped in the elegant manner of speech she had taken on early in her story. No vulgarity to be found, only the light drawl of her rugged voice. “Manipulation was his greatest weapon. He found that only by latching onto another soul, he could feel. These obsessions of his turned deadly as well, given time. Always the same pattern. A weak soul, to have and hold. To love and cherish, and then abuse and abuse again and again. His love was a poison to any who drank of his tainted chalice of a facade. Tongue of melted silver, always looking for a new victim to sully. To play his horrible games with, without ever telling them the rules that might keep them safe from his wrath. And the god is insatiable, always moving in search of his next obsession after completely obliterating his last, be it physically or mentally. He believes it is love, truly. And his love is a death sentence to all to fall under his affectionate gaze.” The monochromatic fae finished her story with a reach for the bottle, not giving Aresenn a chance to stop her as she downed it quickly and licked her inky lips teasingly. Setting the bottle down near him, she proceeded to stretch her body out and flex every one of her toes before she huffed and spoke sharply. “This is the story of a God, who is just a Man. My father. Setekh Inferos.” Absinth felt as though just speaking the man’s name, so close to the fires that resembled those haunting eyes… Perhaps he was able to see her even now.

wormwood