by sunset waters
Posted: Sat Aug 27, 2022 6:02 pm
T A L O N
Searing 53, 122
7:15 PM
Lighthouse near the Imperial City Port
Talon sat on the edge of the lighthouse’s topmost platform. His feet dangled loosely in the air and he stared out across the sea, watching the sunset. Everything around him had a rose-gold cast. The water of the sea sparkled as though alight with thousands of topaz gems. Clouds hung in the skies like fluffed pillows of cotton, turned purple and pink by the light of the setting sun. He did not know how long he had been sitting there. He had only told his attendants that he was going to find a place to be alone and think for a time. Even with such a vague statement, he knew that the palace staff knew exactly where he was.
He brought a hand to his chest, directly over his heart. There was an ache there that he could not heal. It would be relieved by neither time nor medicine. The past several days had been filled with decisions he wished he never would have been faced with. In an act of desperation, he had split himself in the hopes that the purest piece of his soul might be spared the slow twisting of his thoughts that was occurring. He was not blind to what was happening to him. On the contrary, he was horrifyingly aware of what was being done to him. It was not a sudden or forceful thing and it was hardly something he could make himself consciously aware of. Every now and then however, he could feel a whisper on the edge of his thoughts. So, while he still had enough will and wherewithal to do so, he had given a piece of himself to the Whisperer.
He had severed the parts of himself that may, in the end, be what could save him, what could free him. He hoped that he had chosen right. Only time would tell whether he had made the right choice.
He rubbed at the spot over his heart. It continued to ache. Instinctively he tried to reach for the Bond that he had with his core soulmate. He winced when nothing stirred. There was a crushing silence in his head where once there had always been a warm voice or even voices. The bonds he had formed over his lifetime were all gone. First Rickter, then his father, now his husband. He had sent that part of himself away as well, to keep those still alive safe from the corruption that was spreading through him. He would not risk them being twisted by the whispers of the suit of armor he had been forced into. He would not let them become yet more leverage to be held over him in his gilded prison.
Looking down at his hands, Talon wondered silently if it would be enough. There were still ties here in the Imperium that he had made. There was Asher. The honorable knight with whom he had partnered. Asher was…he was important to him. He did not know what direction their paths would take them but he knew that he had already formed an attachment to the man. How could he not? Outside of the occasional glimpse of the Bond with Aoren, the knight had been his only solace during his time in the tower. Not only that, if the Matchmaker was to be believed, they were to have children soon.
Would he be allowed to see them? Would he be allowed to hold them? Would he be allowed to have the family he had always desperately wanted?
He did not know. He did not want to believe that he would be forced to be an outsider in his own life but that was what it had come down to.
He was lost. He was confused. He felt alone and there was little else he could focus on except the command he had been given. He feared what that would do to him. If he had nothing but the insane tasks of a deranged book filled with calamity to guide him, what would that make of him? Too many questions raced through his head and he had little to calm his nerves in the wake of them.
Talon sighed, running a hand through his hair. He caught the leather strap that he used to tie his hair back and undid the knot. Combing his fingers through his hair, he let it fall loose. Running his fingers through his hair several times he made sure that no knots were present before he set about tying his hair into a braid. It had grown down to his waist since his imprisonment. He did not mind it but it was longer than he had ever let it grow before. He paused when the sound of wingbeats drew his attention away from the setting sun. He expanded his aetheric senses, brushing upon the encroaching presence. Across his Semblance, he felt a strangely familiar presence. It was warm. It was stalwart. It took a moment before he realized that it was Asher. He realized this was the first time he had grasped the man’s aura. He made a mental note to familiarize himself with it. Turning his head back to the sunset, he spoke.
“Were you sent to fetch me?”