*
The swell built and threatened to carry the combatants away, only to halt unnaturally to reveal that which Trente truly believed he would never witness. The god that had held Trente's fragile life in his hands, and tested him on countless occurrences since he was little more than the stature of his own son, stood proudly and more than disgruntled before them. His son sputtered and spit, breathing again, and Trente's mind spun with confusion, not understanding how the child could curry the favor of the god he viewed as fierce and unrelenting.
The harshness and disapproval of the godly being's presence and commands sunk deep into his heart, and he knew true fear. Death always seemed somewhat of a release to the haunted man, and a part of him hungered for it, but no fiber of his mortal being wished to bring the divine fury of a god upon him.
When the god left, washing back into his true body, that of the ever potent oceans he felt a slight shiver in his hand, and a ringing in his mind as thoughts organized themselves, bringing facts that would have seemed natural to any other father to the fore front. When the konti, Laviku's daughter, traveled through the perils of Sunberth at the call of Avalis Trente had thought her foolish, but now he saw. Both Laviku and Avalis had delivered Matilis into his arms, now twice over. The thought twinged at something he believed dead inside, and as much fear as he felt for being under the command of the gods, he also felt that which tempted him more than any human emotion.
Pride.
Trente rushed to his son's side, and stood beside him, looking down as the frail child continued to cough and shiver at the sensation of the god's unbridled touch, unsure himself of what to think, for he had never know that side of Laviku, and none were to be able to say what Matilis had felt in the god's arms.
His attacker's threats came with surprisingly little effect as he gave forth his final valley and stalked into the darkness. What Trente found powerful and frightening chimes before struck him as insignificant and the pride swelling in his unworthy chest summoned a sure smirk on his face as he shouted above the bonesnapper, through the darkness, toward his attacker.
"You war against a nation, but you understand not the strength of individuals. My blood will undo you, Hound! Not in the name of Zeltiva, but in the name of Eclatante! You will be brought to light, murderer, and you will be proven weak!"
___
Gripping his stomach he kneeled beside his son and reach out to touch him, only to have the child withdraw with a series of painful choking expulsions and a terrified expression aimed at the one who betrayed him, his own father. Trente's smirk faded and replaced with a stern look.
With a tone of authority he spoke firm words to the child. "We have to get you warm, save your angst for a more appropriate time."
The child's response was that which Trente could not foresee. He cried, curled into a shivering shaking pile of ice cold limbs and cried out with projection that carried through the streets of Zeltiva on the Bonesnapper's breath. Trente glared at him and commanded he stop butt he child only cried harder, and cried out his mother's name.
Trente's mouth dropped suddenly slack, as he felt the name hit him like a dagger to the heart. He recalled clearly the coldness of that bed in the morning. In ever morning following her abandonment, and it was the kind of cold that burned to the bone.
Perhaps, for the first time, he felt sympathy for the child, for he knew the pain of Marsha's absence, after her unrelenting love, as well as the pain of losing a mother.
One hand still pressed firmly to his wound as he braced himself against the ground with the other and felt the unfamiliar pressure of Laviku's presence building behind his eyes, pressing at him till he overflowed, the tears streaming upon contorted face with Ivak's revenge. So long he had thought himself unable to feel, and now those unshed tears and unrelinquished sobs came with a furry he unrelenting passion. He screamed to the Bonesnapper, a weak and haunting tone intertwined with his son's own.
He had to find her again; they both did.
*
The swell built and threatened to carry the combatants away, only to halt unnaturally to reveal that which Trente truly believed he would never witness. The god that had held Trente's fragile life in his hands, and tested him on countless occurrences since he was little more than the stature of his own son, stood proudly and more than disgruntled before them. His son sputtered and spit, breathing again, and Trente's mind spun with confusion, not understanding how the child could curry the favor of the god he viewed as fierce and unrelenting.
The harshness and disapproval of the godly being's presence and commands sunk deep into his heart, and he knew true fear. Death always seemed somewhat of a release to the haunted man, and a part of him hungered for it, but no fiber of his mortal being wished to bring the divine fury of a god upon him.
When the god left, washing back into his true body, that of the ever potent oceans he felt a slight shiver in his hand, and a ringing in his mind as thoughts organized themselves, bringing facts that would have seemed natural to any other father to the fore front. When the konti, Laviku's daughter, traveled through the perils of Sunberth at the call of Avalis Trente had thought her foolish, but now he saw. Both Laviku and Avalis had delivered Matilis into his arms, now twice over. The thought twinged at something he believed dead inside, and as much fear as he felt for being under the command of the gods, he also felt that which tempted him more than any human emotion.
Pride.
Trente rushed to his son's side, and stood beside him, looking down as the frail child continued to cough and shiver at the sensation of the god's unbridled touch, unsure himself of what to think, for he had never know that side of Laviku, and none were to be able to say what Matilis had felt in the god's arms.
His attacker's threats came with surprisingly little effect as he gave forth his final valley and stalked into the darkness. What Trente found powerful and frightening chimes before struck him as insignificant and the pride swelling in his unworthy chest summoned a sure smirk on his face as he shouted above the bonesnapper, through the darkness, toward his attacker.
"You war against a nation, but you understand not the strength of individuals. My blood will undo you, Hound! Not in the name of Zeltiva, but in the name of Eclatante! You will be brought to light, murderer, and you will be proven weak!"
___
Gripping his stomach he kneeled beside his son and reach out to touch him, only to have the child withdraw with a series of painful choking expulsions and a terrified expression aimed at the one who betrayed him, his own father. Trente's smirk faded and replaced with a stern look.
With a tone of authority he spoke firm words to the child. "We have to get you warm, save your angst for a more appropriate time."
The child's response was that which Trente could not foresee. He cried, curled into a shivering shaking pile of ice cold limbs and cried out with projection that carried through the streets of Zeltiva on the Bonesnapper's breath. Trente glared at him and commanded he stop butt he child only cried harder, and cried out his mother's name.
Trente's mouth dropped suddenly slack, as he felt the name hit him like a dagger to the heart. He recalled clearly the coldness of that bed in the morning. In ever morning following her abandonment, and it was the kind of cold that burned to the bone.
Perhaps, for the first time, he felt sympathy for the child, for he knew the pain of Marsha's absence, after her unrelenting love, as well as the pain of losing a mother.
One hand still pressed firmly to his wound as he braced himself against the ground with the other and felt the unfamiliar pressure of Laviku's presence building behind his eyes, pressing at him till he overflowed, the tears streaming upon contorted face with Ivak's revenge. So long he had thought himself unable to feel, and now those unshed tears and unrelinquished sobs came with a furry he unrelenting passion. He screamed to the Bonesnapper, a weak and haunting tone intertwined with his son's own.
He had to find her again; they both did.
*
