--bleed to know you're alive

The land seemed to swallow itself whole in it?s own natural craft. The swamp had turned into a grouping of elegance and had it been a different time the mangrove would have impressed him. For now, his infatuation remained with himself and finding the pieces to put himself together. Perhaps someone would impart some great wisdom in his mind. Maybe he?d walk away better for it today. Regardless of his meandering mind the boy moved with a certain fluidity, but it was unlikely to be noticed for one would only notice his grotesque features. Syrinx was far from pretty with his heavy scarring, exposed jaw, and multiple burns running down the entire left front side of his body. He was a walking Frankenstein in many terms of the word, but his resolve was admirable (in his own mind).

The grove was quiet in the evening and he rested near a pool of water that seemed to glow with the setting sun. Eyes were placed forward and his body seemed to breathe rather slowly. He was enjoying himself. He had always found comfort in the silence and serenity that could be found on one?s own, but he was not to say that time came when he craved to better things with others. There was a part of his father in him, and there always would be, that wanted to better things. Syrinx?s definition of better had, however, become twisted and perverted. It was not ever going to be the direct fundamentals he was grown on. No matter his attempts and his frustrations. He only sought for the Adravendi to thrive.

It was an even more selfish drive than his wish to present himself as the god he felt he was. Cairo, his father, had specifically cared for anyone. Anyone to befriend his father (and any innocents) were immediately considered family. To Cairo it had never been about blood. It had been about bond. Syrinx would not admit to the same thing, but patterns were obvious and questions could be raised. He had ruled Amenti and those that swore fealty unto him were given the most impressive of protection. He held their loyalty and in turn was loyal to them. Perhaps he was more like his father than even he was willing to admit. It made sense, but sitting there, thinking on it, and wondering what things would be like; he understood he would never have the gentleness his father upheld and he would never love the way his father loved unless they were his own.