T A L O N
He passed his gaze over the wings of the man in front of him. They were magnificent as he said. The feathers were a shimmering kaleidoscope of colors with opalescent frames that glinted even in the faint lights of the chapel.
“They are beautiful.” His expression softened somewhat as he regarded them. If there was one thing that all Avialae could connect on, it was a pride in their wings. They were a defining mark of their people and he felt no need to shy away from that fact. At the offer of being shown the particulars of Asher’s quirk, he managed a soft laugh.
“You must be careful when you do. Somehow, I do not believe such a display will be smiled upon.” He could not imagine such a thing being allowed when the Inquisition would not even allow him the luxury of a simple shaving knife. When the topic of his ascension came up, he looked down at their joined hands. He allowed himself the softness of that touch.
“I was killed.” He had recounted the story enough times that it no longer carried the pain it once did. “I was in the midst of a trial for a knight aspirant to my personal guard. The event was intruded upon by people hired to kill me. When it became clear they could not overcome me through skill or sorcery, they resorted to summoning a demon of death and shadow. It was going to kill him.”
His eyes clouded momentarily as he recalled the memory with vivid clarity. He could feel the sweat upon his body. He could still hear his heart pounding in his ears. That moment of perfect stillness when Aoren had locked eyes with him and his beloved had given him that proud smile. That smile that had been filled with both love and sadness in equal measure. A smile that begged for forgiveness and for comfort all at the same time. Aoren had thought he was going to die in that moment. Talon had rejected that outcome with every fiber of his being with such a visceral potency that he could have sworn time itself shied away from that moment.
“The demon was going to kill my husband. I pushed him out of the way and in so doing…exposed myself and was consumed by the creature.” He winced as he recalled every agonizing moment as he had been torn to pieces. He would never forget that experience.
“I-I do not fully recall everything that happened after that. Something awoke within me. A refusal to accept the outcome strewn before me. It was a rejection of the idea that my life could be over in that moment. I beheld…” He furrowed his brow as he tried to recall what he saw in that moment. He reached within himself but as he searched for the vision of the Aetherium, he realized that even glimpsing it in memory was being blocked from him. Without realizing it, he touched a hand to his forehead and rubbed, as if the motion could clear the fogginess in his brain.
“I cannot describe what I beheld.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and gently rubbed it. He stopped trying to reach and focused on the moment. “I awoke afterwards in the care of my loved ones. My body healed and my mind awoken to a realm that defies all imagining. I did not realize who or what I was for some time after that. It was a few months before I pieced together the truth.”
“They are beautiful.” His expression softened somewhat as he regarded them. If there was one thing that all Avialae could connect on, it was a pride in their wings. They were a defining mark of their people and he felt no need to shy away from that fact. At the offer of being shown the particulars of Asher’s quirk, he managed a soft laugh.
“You must be careful when you do. Somehow, I do not believe such a display will be smiled upon.” He could not imagine such a thing being allowed when the Inquisition would not even allow him the luxury of a simple shaving knife. When the topic of his ascension came up, he looked down at their joined hands. He allowed himself the softness of that touch.
“I was killed.” He had recounted the story enough times that it no longer carried the pain it once did. “I was in the midst of a trial for a knight aspirant to my personal guard. The event was intruded upon by people hired to kill me. When it became clear they could not overcome me through skill or sorcery, they resorted to summoning a demon of death and shadow. It was going to kill him.”
His eyes clouded momentarily as he recalled the memory with vivid clarity. He could feel the sweat upon his body. He could still hear his heart pounding in his ears. That moment of perfect stillness when Aoren had locked eyes with him and his beloved had given him that proud smile. That smile that had been filled with both love and sadness in equal measure. A smile that begged for forgiveness and for comfort all at the same time. Aoren had thought he was going to die in that moment. Talon had rejected that outcome with every fiber of his being with such a visceral potency that he could have sworn time itself shied away from that moment.
“The demon was going to kill my husband. I pushed him out of the way and in so doing…exposed myself and was consumed by the creature.” He winced as he recalled every agonizing moment as he had been torn to pieces. He would never forget that experience.
“I-I do not fully recall everything that happened after that. Something awoke within me. A refusal to accept the outcome strewn before me. It was a rejection of the idea that my life could be over in that moment. I beheld…” He furrowed his brow as he tried to recall what he saw in that moment. He reached within himself but as he searched for the vision of the Aetherium, he realized that even glimpsing it in memory was being blocked from him. Without realizing it, he touched a hand to his forehead and rubbed, as if the motion could clear the fogginess in his brain.
“I cannot describe what I beheld.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and gently rubbed it. He stopped trying to reach and focused on the moment. “I awoke afterwards in the care of my loved ones. My body healed and my mind awoken to a realm that defies all imagining. I did not realize who or what I was for some time after that. It was a few months before I pieced together the truth.”