be easy.
take your time.
you are coming
home.
to yourself
- the becoming | wing
In one of the old tomes of the ancient fey philosophers it is written that a man speaks his heart's truth but once in his life. And yet, gentle reader, I am here to tell you that this is not an immutable truth, for I know of a man who spoke truth neither once, nor twice, but thrice. When first his heart was laid bare, he found only pain and rejection, and when he spoke a second time, he was answered only silence. But what happened the third time, gentle reader, I shall leave you to discover for yourself.
THE FIRST TIME
When first he faced her, they stood in the collapsing shards of his castle, his life and self crumbling around them.
Just fear me, love me, do as I say, and I will be your slave.
Fifteen short words, born of a lifetime of solitude, and released by a glimmer of hope, a shining silver ray of joy and beauty. There was something here, someone here, so beautifully defiant. Defiant and determined, with an unshakeable will of iron. With Her by his side, they ought to have shared all the joys of the world – no, the joys of all the worlds. With her, he could banish all loneliness and care, the cursed listlessness of immortality.
But She refused him, and banished him back to the dark despair that imprisoned him.
You have no power over me.
And he fell.