06-14-2017, 03:34 AM
How far had he come?
Such questions were meaningless drivel, imposed upon him by a mind ever seeking answers, regardless of the consequences. Questions begat answers, after all- there was no question that could not claim one. But that did not mean it would grace him with wisdom and light, guiding him onwards to glory. The threat of failure loomed there, like a beast enveloped in shadow, testing him. Virsisé's heart burned and he rose with purpose upon forbidden sands, the ocean whispering behind him, washing upon that thin path that was the sole bridge to the inner island. How far had he come? It did not matter. He was here. Essence, Essence. Prophecy was unneeded, though he demanded it, now more than ever. Demanded such tempestuous visions, a clash of victory and defeat. Where did his steps lead, in the absence of true divination? It was here, here, with or without the pull of a dream. If such a God did exist- in mockery of everything he had known, worshiped, been chosen by -it would surely bring the answers he sought. It must.
Or else all would be for naught, and he believed he would let the sea claim him- willingly, desperately -for he had given, had sacrificed, everything.
Was it worth it? Surely he would not live and die by the grace of a god, existing or not. His pride would not, or so he could claim, allow such a fate. But his own existence hinged upon this moment. For whatever reason, Virsisé could not deny it.
"Essence," he whispered as he climbed further. The temple was there; he could see it. It rung with the divine, a hollow bell, drawing every fibre of his being. And how he despised it, how he longed for it. His eyes, embued with blood, could only look forward. The wind tossed his mane, caressed his body; he felt more alive, and yet more doomed, than ever before. He walked forward, his hooves treading upon sacred ground, casting ancient shadows upon him. The trees closed in about him and then, finally, began to part. He left the scent of earth and leaves, lush hues of life painted upon decadent background. Life bloomed. Life thrived. Fire rose like a crescendo within him.
Answers. Grant him answers. Grant him purpose, purpose that had been gifted and then taken from him. Give them back, allow him to take what was rightfully his-
The future.
"I am here," Virsisé spoke into the silence that fell upon him like a veil of night. Yet it was not the stars that danced above but the sun, heralding his arrival. "Do you not answer?"
Bring to him life or death.