#aevaroth

Sevensworn Character Intro [6/6] | Tag | WIP Page - The Tyrant-King Aevar

Long ago, he would have pulled Shivaroth into his arms and wept into his hair. Today, he stood, and stared, and drew his sword. There was not a hint of emotion in his eyes.

“Aevar,” Shivaroth whispered. “Look at me. Truly look at me. Just let me help you.”

“And if I don’t want to be helped?” Aevar ran a fingertip along the edge of his blade, watching with detached fascination as blood ran down his hand when he pulled it away. “You say I used to know you, but I don’t remember you at all, so you couldn’t have been terribly important. Now step aside, and let me claim the prince.” 

Shivaroth squared his jaw, and stepped forward. His bare feet were silent against the hard-packed earth beneath them, and Aevar watched him lazily as he approached and put his hands against his cheeks. 

“Come now,” Shivaroth whispered. “Remember. What were the last words you ever heard me say?” 

A flash in Aevar’s eyes, a choked gasp, the tightening of fingers on a hilt. A nearly implacable thing - recognition.