The first fissure of lightning split the sky, immediately catching the golden-eyed, golden-hearted Cairn’s attention with a sharp twist of his long, lean ears and skull — he blinked upon seeing the cat, his fur bristling not only with the electricity in the air but with immediate distrust. He realized then that the creature lacked the brittle yellow eyes of its lesser kin; the eerie fel stare reminded Szymon of Jagoda and Ishild. There was an eerie glow behind this beast’s eyes, though — and the odd language he spoke reminded Szymon of the Witch Doctors from back home.
Well, I mean — uh, hm. Even Szymon’s thoughts were incoherent — an oddity for the mentally eloquent and verbally crippled boy — and he wondered if he was under the grip of some kind of commune with the Sea. He had never heard of Her using a cat before, but perhaps She was running low on turtles. The thought made him chuckle, a deep, rich sound that hummed low in his throat, but he decided — although keeping his wits about him and his muscles bunched for battle — that he would commune with the oracle She had sent him. Perhaps it would help Doe in some way to know this strange little cat’s intent. Not that he understood anything the cat was saying — but it wasn’t like anybody ever understood what Szymon was saying, either.
I should have drank the whiskey. Or the julep, he thought to himself belatedly. Humming the song Doe had taught him, he attempted to lull himself into a trance deep enough to trick his body into letting him speak. “A-A-A-Ak — ” he stammered out, “M-M-M-M — ” If he couldn’t pronounce the common tongue properly, he had no hope of parroting whatever this cat was saying. And, with only the Sea and her odd, tuft-eared consort to see his shame, he bent his head raggedly and moaned despair. Just give me this, he thought desperately, slewing his sulphureous eyes to meet boldly the eerie fel glow. Take my thoughts away or give me the wherewithal to express them — can you be so cruel when I have been loyal? It was not the first time an acolyte raged against his deity, but Szymon felt a terrible guilt nonetheless.
With that guilt came a great unease, and he found that he wished ardently for the Sea Herself to envelope him in Her arms and wash away the stain that was set upon his breast. Without another word to the small cat, he turned and sought the sanctuary of the bay.
Well, I mean — uh, hm. Even Szymon’s thoughts were incoherent — an oddity for the mentally eloquent and verbally crippled boy — and he wondered if he was under the grip of some kind of commune with the Sea. He had never heard of Her using a cat before, but perhaps She was running low on turtles. The thought made him chuckle, a deep, rich sound that hummed low in his throat, but he decided — although keeping his wits about him and his muscles bunched for battle — that he would commune with the oracle She had sent him. Perhaps it would help Doe in some way to know this strange little cat’s intent. Not that he understood anything the cat was saying — but it wasn’t like anybody ever understood what Szymon was saying, either.
I should have drank the whiskey. Or the julep, he thought to himself belatedly. Humming the song Doe had taught him, he attempted to lull himself into a trance deep enough to trick his body into letting him speak. “A-A-A-Ak — ” he stammered out, “M-M-M-M — ” If he couldn’t pronounce the common tongue properly, he had no hope of parroting whatever this cat was saying. And, with only the Sea and her odd, tuft-eared consort to see his shame, he bent his head raggedly and moaned despair. Just give me this, he thought desperately, slewing his sulphureous eyes to meet boldly the eerie fel glow. Take my thoughts away or give me the wherewithal to express them — can you be so cruel when I have been loyal? It was not the first time an acolyte raged against his deity, but Szymon felt a terrible guilt nonetheless.
With that guilt came a great unease, and he found that he wished ardently for the Sea Herself to envelope him in Her arms and wash away the stain that was set upon his breast. Without another word to the small cat, he turned and sought the sanctuary of the bay.
« Next Oldest | Next Newest »
Messages In This Thread
don’t say you hate me; you don’t mean it - by Szymon - July 16, 2016, 06:46 AM
RE: don’t say you hate me; you don’t mean it - by Bajeera - July 16, 2016, 01:07 PM
RE: don’t say you hate me; you don’t mean it - by Szymon - July 16, 2016, 06:09 PM