The bank stretched endlessly before him, a shimmering expanse of silver-blue water that mirrored the brooding sky above. Stark’s steps were slow, deliberate, his heavy paws sinking into the damp earth with each stride. The crisp scent of the lake filled his nostrils, mingling with the faint tang of the pinewood beyond, but it brought no comfort.
Not today.
His mind was elsewhere, lost in the shadows of memories he couldn’t quite grasp. He stopped at the water’s edge, the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore the only sound that broke the stillness. His reflection stared back at him, distorted and incomplete in the rippling surface. The face was familiar, the jagged scar over his missing eye looking at him, but his one good eye… it betrayed nothing. A void stared back at him, and he tore his stare away with a low growl.
He remembered Evenspire, the grandeur of it, the weight of the crown that had been so close to his reach. He remembered Morwenna, his sister—strong, wise, untouchable. His nieces, his nephews. Young, smart, spry. The very best of them all, the future of their regime.
Who had he been? The prince regent, the sword to his sister’s rule. But beyond that, nothing. The second son, gnawing at the Throne he craved desperately. He had never the heart to turn against Morwenna, though.
He missed her. Morwenna.
Not today.
His mind was elsewhere, lost in the shadows of memories he couldn’t quite grasp. He stopped at the water’s edge, the gentle lapping of the waves against the shore the only sound that broke the stillness. His reflection stared back at him, distorted and incomplete in the rippling surface. The face was familiar, the jagged scar over his missing eye looking at him, but his one good eye… it betrayed nothing. A void stared back at him, and he tore his stare away with a low growl.
He remembered Evenspire, the grandeur of it, the weight of the crown that had been so close to his reach. He remembered Morwenna, his sister—strong, wise, untouchable. His nieces, his nephews. Young, smart, spry. The very best of them all, the future of their regime.
Who had he been? The prince regent, the sword to his sister’s rule. But beyond that, nothing. The second son, gnawing at the Throne he craved desperately. He had never the heart to turn against Morwenna, though.
He missed her. Morwenna.
mentions @Morwenna
![[Image: 87194531_bb0QkUSw0DxgU3z.gif?1728984284]](https://f2.toyhou.se/file/f2-toyhou-se/images/87194531_bb0QkUSw0DxgU3z.gif?1728984284)
a king with no crown.
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No peace for the wicked - by Stark Haelvyr - November 16, 2024, 03:08 AM