une surprise si sombre

With the change of the season, Sephiran found himself becoming even more restless, his warped mind balancing on a fragmented sense of reality.

An impending psychotic break.

He’d often pace the borders of his domain, stopping to rhythmically tap his claws against the stone and earth, portraying his boredom for all to see. His mind raced more often than not- jumbled thoughts, each one crashing into the next, altering his focus. Bursts of energy consumed him, quickly morphing into an unsettling agitation- a heightened intensity - a compulsivity that led him to commit more severe, perverse acts.

Satiate the depravity. But his long nights with the Sidi women were not enough. Satiate the depravity. The frustration welling inside him was overwhelming, the deep, pulsating need to find a new outlet consuming him. His kingdom was starting to feel claustrophobic, oppressive. He needed to escape this state of perpetual motion, if only for a night. Satiate the depravity.

He’d left the Sparse Pines at an unknown time, wandering farther into the North, darting across the frozen tundra with his companions. He’s gravitating toward a structure on the horizon- an old, time-worn vessel left to rot in the icy wasteland for the rest of time. The creaking and groaning of the ship’s hull echoed across the tundra, drawing him in, beckoning to the frantic curiosity in his mind. What would the Saxe Sultan find in the labyrinth?

Closing in, he almost misses the silhouette of a woman stopped in admiration of the ship. But was she truly admiring the timeless landmark? His falcon screeches above, alerting him of her presence, drawing his attention to her, which seemed hyperfocused- as if an internal impulse was driving him forward, and yet, he cannot truly settle his focus. A girl. A girl. A girl.

A foreign language spilled from her lips, her lithe, slender build adorned in deep black fur- a blurring contrast in comparison to the stark white backdrop of the tundra. “Tot singur, tot singur. “ (All alone, all alone.) Deep baritones rumble from his maw, his sudden fascination with her driving him away from the ship's, as he moved into her proximity. Typically, he’d speak in the common tongue- but her odd language brought out his impulsivity and thus, his Romanian. “On the brink of moonlight,” His lips start to twitch, his eyes growing wide and brimming with manic excitement. “Și ea este singură.“ (And she is all alone.) He slows into a saunter as he nears, his movement more predatory, yet erratic. A girl. A girl. A girl.


"Sephiran Saxe"