FictionPress.com - let the words flow| FictionPress.com - let the words flow |
| Home Just In Communities Forums Beta Readers Dictionary Search | Login Register Extras |
A careful embrace, her kisses on my skin
Betrays her fears, betraying what she may know
She bids me off, clinging to me
But I’m calm, prepared to accept my outcome
“We knew this would come,” I say.
She just nods, her eyes stinging with tears
Her hand rests on her stomach; she can’t meet my eyes
That one hand trying to sooth the unborn life moving within,
Her eyes watching the floor swimming before her.
A ram’s horn is lifted, blown
Solemnly like a breath being drawn from tired lungs a clear deep note rings across the plain,
Filled with no sorrow but with strength and power.
The note that floats over to us is plain and crisp
Several notes clash in harmony,
Filling their men with hope, defiance, and courage,
For a few stilled moments, as the notes slowly drag on, drown themselves into the atmosphere, I know they’d heard it—the cries of war.
Beneath their sinful, simple flesh, their hearts beat strong but quiver with fear.
I hear the trepidation, feel it on their skin
Like a brand on their armor—shining in blood, on burning, clammy bodies.
Black things in the shape of wolves spring forward from the air,
Moving forward—skillfully evading the arrows, like ashes in the wind,
Fading in and out—in, out, in
Disappear.
Weaving into the field like dancers—spitting poison
“Fall back, fall back!” they call, screaming shouting
I smirk.
They stand, swords blazing with holy fire,
Sculpted faces held in anger, wings spread out like a wall of white
Pristine pale feathers, shielding all behind.
They come slowly upon the soldiers like black mist,
Their bodies moving like near-drowned men dragging themselves to shore.
One touch—Darkness
Men—into black, mindless flesh.
They yell for the archer’s arrows, for courage, for their men to keep fighting
I just laugh.
Glorious roar of steel and flesh, screams and prayers all drowned
By the music and cadence of war
I spring into the battle, lost in the savagery of it all, in the darkness of war,
Forgetting myself, what I was, whom I was—blindly slashing, dodging, cutting down
I think I saw a familiar face, heard a familiar voice, but all is lost in the mass of this passion, this indifference, this flow of blood and tears.
Spellbound between true lies, crying with silent laughter
They fight with weak determination, failing nerve,
Against the almighty Darkness
They give into temptation, into human lusts and longings.
I want to hear my sword pierce
Through something other then what it is known to pierce
Hearts are too common, too weak to withstand the Darkness—too often silenced before their time.
More men fall, arrows sticking out like pins,
Drawing more then a pinprick of blood
Breathing hard with the exhilaration of war, smelling the blood fresh in the air and the smell of Darkness, the blood roars in my veins.
Stronger, fiercer
“Keep your positions!” I yell, trying to be heard over the din of battle
We are being driven back still, further and further from where the enemy stood.
I can feel myself fitting with its throb and growl like some beast on the hunt
I’m bloodthirsty, hungry for the flesh of men,
For their screams to drive me on,
For the dying breath to be a gasp of terror
But all that seems to dissipate as we fight on,
Purely on instinct, fighting for control
For a few moments, it seems as if I’m trapped in battle,
The next I’m on the edge of it, wondering how I’d gotten here.
A snake coiled at his heels, scarlet eyes glinting
“They are overpowering us,” I say, imploring him for mercy
He stares down, his eyes callous, one eyebrow raised as if I’m telling lies
“Find the prince and kill him.” He says, his voice thick and with a twisted smile.
Like a great iron bell in my ear
It’s a mantra singing itself hoarse
Kill him, kill him…
And I will do as required
Though something in the back of my mind
Is telling me not to stoop so low—
I ignore it and Darkness consumes me
Killing mercilessly, with a wildness that only demons possess
My body moves in rhythm to their attacks, like a dance
Veer off, strike right, left, parry—kill
It all becomes a pattern of body and mind
But never the soul.
Always a boy, never a man
Proud and humble upon a white mount,
The gold crown upon his head, sword held high
That changes—the prince hangs limply on the saddle, blood pours from his robes,
Pale hands grab at him, the cries of women and men, shouting, shouting to the gods, to their future king, praying
No, no, hold on, hold on—
Fingers clawing, reaching for the boy’s failing life,
Black silk whips in the air, they pull him off his mount.
His mouth is twisted in a grimace, face gone white as alabaster
The crown made of gold falls to the dust, crumbles and in its place, a crown of brambles
And roses, delicately curving petals painted crudely in blood
Is it just one of those visions of a drunken mind or is it the truth, bared, fangs dripping with bitter sarcasm?
I know he’s still alive, I can smell him in the putrid air
I feel his heart still pounding, his blood on my tongue
All of this soon becomes him,
I feel his bones crunching, his flesh ripped from his bones
Growing weeds and flowers
And whatever else will feed on human corpses
Then I see him—brave little prince
Shielded in the armor, in the semblance of a solider
Eighteen years on him and already struggling for his life—beautiful!
His mount is gone; he’s on foot, perfect opportunity
The sweat beading his brow, his breath is uneven
I’m sure his heart is seizing in his chest, a pounding red organ
Wrapped like a gift in veins, arteries, trapped in a cage of bone
He’s protecting his people, keeping their lives
While trying to watch his own back it's tense in anxiety
I can already feel the blood spill, warm and claret on my hands
The silver of the blade shining in the sunlight as the light in his eyes fade
Fading…fading…fading.
Gone.
As I stalk him, killing, yelling, the man I was lost
Replaced by Darkness
I come
But he’s ready
And before I can kill him, he attacks
I can barely jump back before the sword grazes my side
My anger grows and I lunge
He parries, I lunge again, again,
Attacking with all the vehemence
Of a slow poison
Splitting cries from raw lungs,
Blood from skin,
Skin from bone—he collapses
His helmet’s gone, blood staining his armor
The fight in him is finished; he bows his head in surrender
He’s giving up
I chuckle and bring my blade down
Kissing his throat with the cold kiss of a lover—
The kiss of a sword
His last.
Out, out—like a candle
An instant end to a failed battle
I almost smile; press the blade a little harder
Not enough to kill, not enough to pierce
But just enough to draw out
A single pearl of blood
That red pearl trickles down his throat, mixes with the cold sweat
Marking him in some way, making a trail for the blade to follow
Down to his heart
I raise the blade—
Someone calls out—
I look up and glimpse white wings, a chiseled face
Blue eyes, white hair with silver at the roots
Zephyr—the angel trapped on earth, sent to guide
Once an ally; now my enemy.
I pull the prince’s face close
Look into his eyes, frightened, hesitant eyes
Like those of a child trapped in the body of a man
I pull back the blade, poise to destroy—
I stumble back
There, in the reflection of his eyes,
Is the queen:
Her pale hair flowing around her face, so clear and sharp
As it is still in my memory
Her eyes seem bluer in the lucidity of her skin, her lashes seem silver
Like tiny icicles had frozen there
She smiled—
Then was gone.
Cold, cruel
A blade in his hand
“If no one’s to kill him, I will.”
The words sound harsh in my ear
A silver flash, a mother’s scream—another angel falls
Another son lies to die.
“No one touches him!” I cry
Demon fighting demon, sword against fist,
Magic and minds twining, twisting together, clawing for strength—dominance
Control, madness, sanity, chaos—all into one, one into all
A funeral pyre—a fitting place to die
Immediately faces surround me,
The beautiful faces of the angels,
Their pale searching eyes knowing sin
Their wings, hands, bring me down
Again, again, I cannot fight; their strength is too much
Too great.
See him push and shove,
But they, the angels, push him back
Protect him, yes, protect him
Prince of my home, my motherland
The descendant of a lord and the queen—
My lover’s son, my son
Long lost heir.
Roaring and snarling, crashing like liquid around me, on me—white, all I can see
I cry out, scream
The fire is scorching me, burning my blood
I breath in, breath out
Feeling weightless, tired
My body shudders in a way I cannot control—
A seizure of muscle, of heart, a seizure I see in sickened animals
Just before death.
Listening for any movement, but the rage of battle
Is gone, the clash and cries dying on the wind
A final shudder and a scream—
Not a mortal scream, only a demon’s
I lay still.
Like living shards of glass
Muscles twitch, my mouth turns up in a kind smile
My son looks surprised, frightened
But I know he’s strong
Words—squeezing between failing vocal cords
“Be strong son…” Those simple words can’t define the grief I feel
And the truth they reveal
This boy was my child, the child I’d dreamt of finding ever since his mother died
And now that I had found him, I was to lose him
Strange that those eyes—his mother’s eyes—held so much fury and fear only a few moments before
Now hold nothing.
I heard my wife’s voice singing,
Singing a lullaby
Her skin is flushed, rosy with a mother’s glow
Our child lay in her arms, peacefully asleep,
A picture of pure innocence, untouched by the world
How could I have turned against my vows, to the Devil?
Had I really created this beautifully innocent little thing?
Had I already caused this child to pay the price?
So many questions unanswered
So many answers neglected
From the sky, on the wings of a mockingbird
I’ve fallen, wings broken, neck twisted
To land in a puddle, in the darkness of my dreams
Weak, soiled, and forgotten.
From my very first breath of this stale, polluted air
That my life was breaking apart
That the paradise of long ago
Was burning in an inferno of hate, no longer mine to claim
No longer free.
Golden as the sun
Let us mourn our dead, dry every tear
Let us toast to new life, new beginnings
Bless a new reign—
One I will miss.
I run to the world to which was never my own
Trying so desperately to fit in, to find myself within
I find that world; find myself, that man I was
Body still, face set in repose
As I slip away, slowly, slowly
Eyes fixed on the blood red sun—
All is finished; all is done.
