šššššš.
( Ā Ā he supposes all of their deaths are inevitable. who truly survives the wrath of the gods? they certainly wouldnāt come out from that rapture as a person, or as any living anomaly. just bones and spit and something akin to a starved hound. he has been avoiding looking at too many faces, he wants to picture them as deer or caribou in a wintry clearing. wild animals that were bred to be hunted, fur softened for her arrow, ears perked with each sound of a boot crunching on thick snow. Ā Ā ) Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā a misanthropic belief still clutches to him and it remains a blackened stain. he has always been unclean, unsavory, the talent he harbors is how to become both myth and flesh, ghost and man. he feels as though heās walking down a pitch dark stair case and heās unable to tell when the last step is. he is in limbo between how to be death and how to blend in to the other dying martyrs around him. will the boar snort until it reaches the slaughterhouse? or does it go mute?Ā MY EXECUTION LOOMS CLOSER. I HEAR SOMETHING BEING DRAGGED DOWN THE HALLWAY OF MY BRAIN. IT MOCKS, REMINDING ME THAT THERE ARE SOME TRUTHS THAT REFUSE TO BE BURIED.Ā THE PROVIDENCE HAS DIMMED SLIGHTLY. HERE THE CROSSROADS APPEAR: BE KIND AND BE A LIABILITY, OR DISAPPEAR AND BECOME A NEW PLAGUE, A NEW RAGE. Ā he doesnāt want to keep thinking of how to kill. instead, he thinks of how to punch a nose until it shatters completely. how to make a throat gargle from blood and saliva, how to be a murderer in the most natural way possible. a hunter of only the crueler mammals, the ones with slippery smiles and bones that shift them into demonic entities. another predicament: how does one determine who lives? how does one justify slicing a body in half? do the gods believe him when he says he had no choice? that earth and rain and sleet had made him into this creature?Ā Ā Ā ( Ā Ā Ā I COUGH UP MONSOONS. I SWALLOW THE MOON. I BEND AT THE WAIST AND ASK FOR REDEMPTION. I SPEAK INTO THE RIVER AND IT DRIES UP. I AM TIRED OF LOOKING FOR SIGNS IN THE TREES OR IN THE SKY. I WANT THE LIGHTNING, I WANT THE THUNDER. IF THERE ARE NO GODS, THEN I WILL BECOME ONE.Ā ) Ā * if one were to split him open like a cantaloupe, they would find him already rotted. overripe, softening in the sunlight to a brown mush. he was never meant to be harvested. he feeds himself the same flesh that he feeds the fish. a rotten vessel, a pinkish hue to the muscles as he drapes another arm in the water. something will awaken for him, the blood in the water drawing some angered reckoning up from the deep black sea.* Ā the blood coats his cheeks, drips down along his brows, colors his hair. it is in this moment that he feels odin within him, a strength that crawls up his throat until it comes out of him with a yell. Ā he is surprisedĀ by her and he sways lightly on his feet, the smile is crooked and looks out of place around the screams and smell of death.Ā he does not question her, a vague sense of curiosity overwhelming him and allowing his hand to go slack in her grip. a tilt of his head, he speaks softly and with a lilting tone. āIF IT WERE MY MEN OUT THERE FIGHTING FOR ME - AND MY SON - I WOULD HAVE KILLED YOU FOR TRYING TO TAKE ME FROM THEM... BUT THEY WERE SOLDIERS FROM MERCIA. AH, I WILL NOT LOSE SLEEP OVER THAT!ā
there is a moment of floating. a limbo in which he is not fully solidified and not fully liquefied. a balance of existence compacted inside one brief second. he blinks to allow the new surroundings to come into focus, he pulls his hand from hers and stretches it out into the warm sunlight. a hum of interest, ears peaked for any alerting noises and mouth loosened into a wide gape. āIS THIS WHERE YOU HAVE TAKEN US OR WHERE THE GODS HAVE TAKEN US?ā
heĀ speaksĀ ofĀ theĀ godsĀ asĀ ifĀ theyĀ areĀ theĀ decidersĀ ofĀ theĀ universe:Ā Ā Ā areĀ they?Ā Ā Ā inĀ theĀ eyesĀ ofĀ some,Ā Ā Ā Ā forĀ theĀ thingsĀ thatĀ sheĀ couldĀ do, Ā Ā Ā yenneferĀ wouldĀ beĀ classedĀ asĀ aĀ god. Ā Ā thisĀ isĀ notĀ lostĀ onĀ her. Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā alas,Ā Ā Ā thereĀ wasĀ nothingĀ aboutĀ herĀ thatĀ wasĀ omnibenevolentĀ aboutĀ her.Ā Ā Ā perhapsĀ omnipotent.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ifĀ thereĀ wereĀ gods,Ā Ā Ā didĀ theyĀ makeĀ herĀ thatĀ way? Ā Ā Ā wasĀ sheĀ bornĀ differentĀ asĀ aĀ test? Ā Ā Ā wasĀ herĀ wholeĀ lifeĀ plannedĀ outĀ asĀ ifĀ someĀ sortĀ ofĀ game?Ā Ā Ā mageĀ doesĀ notĀ thinkĀ thisĀ isĀ probable:Ā Ā Ā Ā figuresĀ thatĀ godsĀ couldĀ certainlyĀ haveĀ aĀ problemĀ withĀ thoseĀ whoĀ cheatedĀ death. Ā Ā Ā hisĀ threatsĀ ofĀ harmĀ didĀ notĀ frightenĀ her,Ā Ā Ā Ā notĀ muchĀ didĀ now. Ā Ā Ā IĀ AMĀ DECADESĀ OLD,Ā Ā Ā IĀ HAVEĀ SEENĀ TREESĀ BEĀ PLANTED, Ā Ā Ā GROWĀ ANDĀ DIE. Ā Ā IĀ HAVEĀ SEENĀ THEĀ EARTHĀ CRACKĀ DOWNĀ THEĀ MIDDLEĀ ANDĀ FORMĀ NEWĀ LANDS.Ā Ā Ā YOURĀ SWORDĀ COULDĀ NOTĀ TOUCHĀ MEĀ FORĀ IĀ WOULDĀ MELTĀ IT.Ā Ā Ā IMMORTALITYĀ ISĀ BOTHĀ MYĀ CURSEĀ ANDĀ MYĀ BLESSING. Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā theĀ bloodĀ makesĀ aĀ homeĀ onĀ hisĀ face, Ā Ā Ā asĀ ifĀ meantĀ toĀ beĀ there: Ā Ā Ā itĀ stains,Ā Ā Ā driesĀ andĀ cracks.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā someĀ wouldĀ thinkĀ thatĀ becoming, Ā Ā Ā thatĀ heĀ isĀ aĀ trueĀ warriorĀ forĀ lookingĀ likeĀ so. Ā Ā Ā itĀ isĀ notĀ theĀ bloodĀ thatĀ givesĀ himĀ away, Ā Ā Ā asĀ theirĀ handsĀ touch, Ā Ā Ā hisĀ powerĀ canĀ beĀ felt. Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā theĀ strengthĀ ofĀ aĀ leader,Ā Ā Ā sheĀ presumes,Ā Ā Ā confirmedĀ byĀ theĀ veryĀ talkĀ ofĀ menĀ fightingĀ forĀ him. Ā Ā Ā theĀ soundĀ ofĀ battleĀ soonĀ fadesĀ out,Ā Ā Ā sheĀ isĀ gratefulĀ forĀ theĀ silence. Ā Ā šš·š“Ā šµšøšš“Ā šøš½ššøš³š“Ā š¼š“Ā šššøš»š»Ā š±šš±š±š»š“š,Ā Ā Ā šøšĀ šøšĀ š²š¾š½šš°šøš½š“š³Ā šµš¾šĀ š½š¾š, Ā Ā Ā šš¾š¾š½Ā šøšĀ ššøš»š»Ā š¾š
š“ššµš»š¾š.Ā Ā Ā šøšĀ ššøš»š» šš²š¾šš²š·Ā šš·š“Ā š“š°ššš·Ā šøš½Ā šµšš¾š½šĀ š¾šµĀ š¼š“,Ā Ā Ā š»š“š°š
šøš½š¶Ā š½š¾šš·šøš½š¶Ā š±š“š·šøš½š³.Ā Ā Ā šæš“šš·š°šæšĀ š¼šĀ ššŗšøš½Ā ššøš»š»Ā š±š»šøššš“š,Ā Ā Ā šøĀ ššøš»š»Ā šš·š“š³Ā šøšĀ š°š½š³Ā š±š“Ā šš“š±š¾šš½.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā sheĀ canĀ feelĀ fatigueĀ startĀ toĀ setĀ inĀ bones, Ā Ā Ā theyĀ wereĀ weary.Ā Ā Ā Ā yet, Ā Ā sheĀ knewĀ thatĀ aĀ goodĀ nightsĀ sleepĀ wouldĀ fixĀ not Ā this. Ā Ā iĀ haveĀ seen:Ā Ā šµš°š°Ā š®š¶š¤š©Ā š£šš°š°š„Ā š“š©š¦š„,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā 'suÉÉɹoĀ pĒsodxĒĀ ŹuÉÉÆĀ ooŹ,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā tooĀ littleĀ kindnessĀ inĀ orderĀ toĀ feelĀ peaceĀ again.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ah,Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā herĀ handsĀ dustĀ awayĀ debrisĀ fromĀ herĀ dress, Ā Ā Ā sheĀ wouldĀ needĀ toĀ changeĀ outĀ ofĀ somethingĀ soĀ fancy,Ā Ā Ā tryĀ andĀ blendĀ in. Ā Ā Ā aĀ bathĀ wouldĀ alsoĀ beĀ required,Ā Ā Ā sootĀ andĀ bloodĀ cakedĀ herĀ hands, Ā Ā Ā notĀ toĀ mentionĀ theĀ crimsonĀ paintedĀ ragnar. Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā godsĀ doĀ notĀ getĀ toĀ decideĀ howĀ iĀ useĀ myĀ magic.Ā Ā Ā thatĀ isĀ allĀ me.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā aĀ relativelyĀ quaintĀ villageĀ sheĀ hadĀ onceĀ passedĀ throughĀ manyĀ moonsĀ ago,Ā Ā Ā everyoneĀ whoĀ couldĀ recogniseĀ herĀ wouldĀ beĀ longĀ deadĀ byĀ now.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā weĀ canĀ recuperateĀ hereĀ forĀ aĀ fewĀ days.Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā
