Sleep has never come easy for him. Exhausted as he is, he slips into its shallows with more ease than on many a night. He lies still for some time.
And then the pain pulls a memory up from the depths, to live it once again. Not as he saw it now, but as he knew it in that moment.
He kneels, bound and trembling. Beside him, another figure in white robes screams in pain, convulsing in the grip of a massive Omen. The beast is a horrific mass of black horns and vicious teeth, its claws stained with blood. Those who succumbed were carried away, placed before a massive silken cocoon, resting upon a pedestal of bone. Bodies cut open, left to drain. No matter how much blood is shed, the silk remains a pristine white.
The screams quiet to a choking laughter, and the Omen sets them down gently. Wild, blood-red eyes stare up at him from behind the mask. The cursed blood hasn't killed them, not yet.
"Another cupbearer to the divine." The Omen's voice is unexpectedly soft and hoarse. One could almost mistake it for kind. But it turns now to him.
A tremor in his hands slowly sets his whole body trembling, curling in tight around himself without waking.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-01-06 03:40 am (UTC)And then the pain pulls a memory up from the depths, to live it once again. Not as he saw it now, but as he knew it in that moment.
A tremor in his hands slowly sets his whole body trembling, curling in tight around himself without waking.