Post by Channeling-Spirits on Apr 6, 2017 19:11:52 GMT -6
Ioru & Breidan
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It was getting late. Slowly, gradually the streets of Nariah emptied as its citizens returned to their homes. The sounds that reverberated throughout the cavern during the day still seemed to hang in the air like echoes of an echo, the memory of hundreds of conversations a quiet hum in the ears of the few stragglers that still remained out and about. Eventually that sound would fade along with the gleaming lights that lit the winding streets, one by one dimming down until the only the Streamline and the distant palace remained lit. Like beacons in the night they kept the vast cavern from being swallowed up by the impenetrable darkness, lending comfort and aid to any who disregarded the customary rest period.
Ioru had always preferred the city during this time of day. It was a side of the ancient city that few ever saw, one rarely appreciated by those who were forced to run one final late errand before turning in. There was a peace and calm about the dim streets that suited him very well, a sense of mystery and strangeness about the familiar that appealed to his desire for adventure. As he lingered over his drink, cheerfully ignoring the growing impatience of the vendor who could not close the stall until he had left, Ioru gazed dreamily up and down the empty streets and wondered what it was like to live like the common folk did. To follow a routine, to choose their paths and walk along it steadily without ever having to question whether it was the right direction for them to take.
He never got to choose. Being born to a king, even born as the brother of another king, his path had been laid out for him from the moment he slipped past his mothers loins. As a child it had not bothered him, not until he grew old enough to see how redundant he was in the large machination of the kingdom. He had rebelled then, and had thought it possible to change his fate if he only screamed loud enough.
Ha.
For all the good it did him, he might as well have kept his mouth shut. All it got him was three years in the temple and then back home to start over from scratch, beginning at square one; how to be an honor to the family without going insane.
He still hadn't figured that one out, he thought as he drained the final drops from the cup and stood, to the apparent relief of the keeper. Leaving the man to pack up his stall, Ioru shrugged the heavy cloak back onto the shoulders and savored the warmth of it as he began to walk, aimless and reluctant to head back home. The lights in the distance looked blurry and faded, the shadows around him full of watching eyes...
Maybe he shouldn't have had that last cup after all.
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For @bazookaneon - sorry for the wait, I'm all set now! :)
WC: 489
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It was getting late. Slowly, gradually the streets of Nariah emptied as its citizens returned to their homes. The sounds that reverberated throughout the cavern during the day still seemed to hang in the air like echoes of an echo, the memory of hundreds of conversations a quiet hum in the ears of the few stragglers that still remained out and about. Eventually that sound would fade along with the gleaming lights that lit the winding streets, one by one dimming down until the only the Streamline and the distant palace remained lit. Like beacons in the night they kept the vast cavern from being swallowed up by the impenetrable darkness, lending comfort and aid to any who disregarded the customary rest period.
Ioru had always preferred the city during this time of day. It was a side of the ancient city that few ever saw, one rarely appreciated by those who were forced to run one final late errand before turning in. There was a peace and calm about the dim streets that suited him very well, a sense of mystery and strangeness about the familiar that appealed to his desire for adventure. As he lingered over his drink, cheerfully ignoring the growing impatience of the vendor who could not close the stall until he had left, Ioru gazed dreamily up and down the empty streets and wondered what it was like to live like the common folk did. To follow a routine, to choose their paths and walk along it steadily without ever having to question whether it was the right direction for them to take.
He never got to choose. Being born to a king, even born as the brother of another king, his path had been laid out for him from the moment he slipped past his mothers loins. As a child it had not bothered him, not until he grew old enough to see how redundant he was in the large machination of the kingdom. He had rebelled then, and had thought it possible to change his fate if he only screamed loud enough.
Ha.
For all the good it did him, he might as well have kept his mouth shut. All it got him was three years in the temple and then back home to start over from scratch, beginning at square one; how to be an honor to the family without going insane.
He still hadn't figured that one out, he thought as he drained the final drops from the cup and stood, to the apparent relief of the keeper. Leaving the man to pack up his stall, Ioru shrugged the heavy cloak back onto the shoulders and savored the warmth of it as he began to walk, aimless and reluctant to head back home. The lights in the distance looked blurry and faded, the shadows around him full of watching eyes...
Maybe he shouldn't have had that last cup after all.
----------------------
For @bazookaneon - sorry for the wait, I'm all set now! :)
WC: 489
