seaward
Notes: Jiipu'd probably rip out my throat in penance for this. Also, I abuse brackets, commas and dashes like nobody's business.
Disclaimer: I don't own him. Pity.
The dragon curls up, closes his eyes and dreams.
There was a place in the clouds, long ago - steeped in veiled imperfection, calling itself Heaven. Silk rustles over his skin like the ocean's waves and he thinks of four people, bound by fate, destiny linking them like chains, cold metal (and that boy's wrists, his neck are shackled and didn't they shatter? when that happened) and like - what? He should know the connection; he feels that he has witnessed it before, far away from this place.
Three of them faded reflections of themselves, one still innocent, untouched by the cycle of life, death and rebirth, and one a dragon to aid them, to atone. (and when he looks at them he sees a shattered mirror and a room full of gods, human finally in death, and a boy who was too innocent, yet knew too much)
Once on the level of gods, unfeeling and emotionless (that's what dragons are, what they have to be - untouchable) because he knew better, for to have emotions would mean lowering himself to the level of the beasts below, primitive and pitiful.
Now living in this mortal plane, vaguely knowing that he owes these four something - a debt, perhaps? - from that place where evil was not evident, but lurked in the hearts of gods. Incarnated to serve them and be nothing more than a docile dragon, forgetting his past in order to truly live an unfettered life.
A goddess laughs a throaty laugh somewhere, as he settles down into deeper dreams, imagining the ocean on his scales.
For a moment before he is swept away by the current, he sees hands in place of his talons, and thinks nothing more of it.
Notes: Jiipu'd probably rip out my throat in penance for this. Also, I abuse brackets, commas and dashes like nobody's business.
Disclaimer: I don't own him. Pity.
The dragon curls up, closes his eyes and dreams.
There was a place in the clouds, long ago - steeped in veiled imperfection, calling itself Heaven. Silk rustles over his skin like the ocean's waves and he thinks of four people, bound by fate, destiny linking them like chains, cold metal (and that boy's wrists, his neck are shackled and didn't they shatter? when that happened) and like - what? He should know the connection; he feels that he has witnessed it before, far away from this place.
Three of them faded reflections of themselves, one still innocent, untouched by the cycle of life, death and rebirth, and one a dragon to aid them, to atone. (and when he looks at them he sees a shattered mirror and a room full of gods, human finally in death, and a boy who was too innocent, yet knew too much)
Once on the level of gods, unfeeling and emotionless (that's what dragons are, what they have to be - untouchable) because he knew better, for to have emotions would mean lowering himself to the level of the beasts below, primitive and pitiful.
Now living in this mortal plane, vaguely knowing that he owes these four something - a debt, perhaps? - from that place where evil was not evident, but lurked in the hearts of gods. Incarnated to serve them and be nothing more than a docile dragon, forgetting his past in order to truly live an unfettered life.
A goddess laughs a throaty laugh somewhere, as he settles down into deeper dreams, imagining the ocean on his scales.
For a moment before he is swept away by the current, he sees hands in place of his talons, and thinks nothing more of it.
