#marvolous

Abraxas had been one of them once. He had been spoiled and rotten and he had not understood the delicate balance of things. He had been pithy and foolish and powerful.

Once–

but not now. 

It was a sad and tragic occurrence. He had been too judicious to be a despot and the world had turned on him. 

It had craved that visceral intensity, that quiet and burning ambition. He did not blame it. He wanted the same things too. But the fact was that it had cast a good and true citizen out in favor of a false idol that demanded sacrifice, a hungry beast that would never be satisfied, a boy who played with fire and did not understand the consequence –

The world had been too kind. 

It had a soft spot for those broken bastards. It turned those usurpers into heroes, rewarded their deviousness and impulse. It followed those magnetic miscreants blindly, caring not for the ruin that lay ahead. It would turn away democracy on its head in favor of a dictator. It revered terribleness and did not understand the truth.

The whole thing was the picture of excess, the essence of cruelty. Boys like them draped themselves on stolen thrones and crowns and toasted excess while others picked up pieces of burnt bread and softened them with their own sweat and tears.

How could kindness be so cruel?

Abraxas could not fathom it. Why would the world be so kind to those who would destroy it? In the end, it would make the right choice, he was sure of it. But for now, he could only whisper a curse, forge his own fate. He sent out a prayer to the universe, asked it for mercy. 

If you ever loved me, you wicked world, Abraxas whispered, then make it so that I am at peace. Tear this tyrant from his throne and save this kingdom. 

“Tom,” he said generously, inching backwards in his chair, and gesturing at a pair of perfectly glazed pastries, “I did not see you at dinner. You should eat.”