Post by Deleted on Jan 3, 2015 18:35:43 GMT
Whine? Why did it have to be whine? Noku's garbs had looked expensive, probably foreign made, and Jeon and to go and dump whine all over it. A part of him was happy about it. Noku had been a devilish child and Jeon was victim to him multiple times when his family would visit this region. Those eyes. Always burning. Always plotting. Ever since Jeon had made his way back to the capital he had been in constant fear of this man and now it was going to be a reality. No mystery behind this one. What was going to happen to him? Was he to be killed? Stripped of his magic? He could survive. Many people lived without it. Stripped of his royal name? That would actually make him happy. He hated the functions and responsibilities. He had avoided them his whole life. It was an attitude he had inherited from his Father. After denouncing his line in the throne he was sent to Dalarus to keep watch of the eastern border of the kingdom. His Father ignored most of those responsibilities and took to teaching at the mage academy there. The same unwillingness to cleave to responsibilities though, led to his Father's and Mother's death. They should have seen it coming.
Jeon's senses were numb from fear and from the constant cold wind against the skin that was bare to its force. He would usually try to use his surrounding as a calming mechanism, but his dulled senses betrayed him. Walking into the castle took a lot of effort. The guards eyes were laughing at him. They knew what he had done and could guess at some extent his punishment. Noku had a history of enforcing extreme consequences. The weight of his feet hit the stone floor hard and echoed in the large halls. Each step reminding himself where he was. There was a moment of complete isolation that he stopped. His head drifted down in shame in shame and he could feel his emotions getting to him. There was an internal struggle to not cry. His gut jerked and his breath quickened. It was inevitable. He fell apart. His eyes attempted to water the floor and his feet gave way to his weight. It was a pathetic scene. A young man of royal blood on the floor in tears. What did blood have to do with it any? He never asked for any of these responsibilities. He just wanted to be a mage of learning. His thoughts scrambled in chaos as he tried to regain his composure.
His hands shook as he wiped his face dry with his sleeves. He could do this. Just face the consequences and live with it. There was nothing you could do now. Wait. I could run! He looked back. No, I can't. It took a lot of time for him to get back on his feet. He let his body relax a bit and wiped a little more of his face trying to make it appear like he wasn't crying. He took a lot of long deep breaths.
Continuing just a little further down the hall he saw the entrance to the throne room. He wanted to make it less painful so he walked straight into the gleaming room without any hesitation. There were only guards at the entrance. The brilliance of white stone was dramatic in this room. It was as captivating as it had been when he was a child. The echo of his steps were calming in a way. He could hear each metal click of his clothing and progressed down the grand hall. His state of mind was anxiously peaceful. He must accept his fate. He would accept it right now if the grand throne hadn't been empty. He was right on time. Now he had to wait. He stood up straight while waiting. He played with his hands in anticipation.
Jeon's senses were numb from fear and from the constant cold wind against the skin that was bare to its force. He would usually try to use his surrounding as a calming mechanism, but his dulled senses betrayed him. Walking into the castle took a lot of effort. The guards eyes were laughing at him. They knew what he had done and could guess at some extent his punishment. Noku had a history of enforcing extreme consequences. The weight of his feet hit the stone floor hard and echoed in the large halls. Each step reminding himself where he was. There was a moment of complete isolation that he stopped. His head drifted down in shame in shame and he could feel his emotions getting to him. There was an internal struggle to not cry. His gut jerked and his breath quickened. It was inevitable. He fell apart. His eyes attempted to water the floor and his feet gave way to his weight. It was a pathetic scene. A young man of royal blood on the floor in tears. What did blood have to do with it any? He never asked for any of these responsibilities. He just wanted to be a mage of learning. His thoughts scrambled in chaos as he tried to regain his composure.
His hands shook as he wiped his face dry with his sleeves. He could do this. Just face the consequences and live with it. There was nothing you could do now. Wait. I could run! He looked back. No, I can't. It took a lot of time for him to get back on his feet. He let his body relax a bit and wiped a little more of his face trying to make it appear like he wasn't crying. He took a lot of long deep breaths.
Continuing just a little further down the hall he saw the entrance to the throne room. He wanted to make it less painful so he walked straight into the gleaming room without any hesitation. There were only guards at the entrance. The brilliance of white stone was dramatic in this room. It was as captivating as it had been when he was a child. The echo of his steps were calming in a way. He could hear each metal click of his clothing and progressed down the grand hall. His state of mind was anxiously peaceful. He must accept his fate. He would accept it right now if the grand throne hadn't been empty. He was right on time. Now he had to wait. He stood up straight while waiting. He played with his hands in anticipation.
