*
Verin sat silently as he watched the dichotomies of black and white dance together on the water, where Leth’s brilliant reflection mingled with the natural shadows of night in the city of Ravok. No matter how beautiful the day was, Verin had always preferred the cool silence of the night, where he could remain and listen to the slosh of water against the floating city. When his father, Vilkas Rush, had taken his brother and him to Syliras, he had missed the quiet nature of the lake-city, where Chaos ruled as an illusion of peace over the citizens. Syliras, the orderly city, had seemed more packed, bustling, and there was no peace. At least… not the type that Verin, and his younger twin brother, Venser, sought out.
Here, though, they could be alone with their thoughts. Anyone who might pass them would be too busy with their own lives to think too teenage boys were worth the distraction. That was the beauty of Ravok; the people of Rhysol’s domain respected privacy, as it generally meant that they would receive the favour in kind. It was only through Verin’s visit to the ‘Capital’ that he truly understood what Ravok offered him, and it cemented his complete devotion to the Defiler, much to his father’s dismay.
Because, for Chaos to truly reign, as it did in Ravok, the people had to see law, which they didn’t in Sunberth, if the stories he had heard had any truth in them. In Ravok, the feeble minded saw no corruption or disarray, but order. Chaos snuck up on you, it seeped into your very soul, slowly changing, transforming you, until it was too late to do anything about it. Verin saw this now, and he had accepted the concept. He would never been the Sylirist that his father hoped he would be – the corruption was too deeply ingrained in his psyche, and he had embraced it, just as he had his faith. But through this Chaos, he had been elevated, as Verin had used it to climb the ladder, whereas Vilkas had fallen to it, unable to get a stable footing on the ground that he so desperately relied on. Vilkas was feeble in mind, though not in body. He would not survive what Ravok had changed within him.
“We should return soon, brother,” the elder of the Rush brothers murmured quietly, as if a louder sound would disturb the hush of the waters resting below them. “We have no cloaks, and even here, we will feel the cold if we are not careful.” He knew how much those words would dismay Venser, but he had to be reasonable. Staying out all night was not a sensible move… if anything, it might leave Venser in even more danger from the drunkard that no doubt waited for them when they finally did deign to return.
As he continued to watch the ripples of water, which acted as a surreal looking-glass, he considered using Hypnotism on the younger blond. In the seasons since he had first, clumsily, used the magic on Venser, he had seen a slight change in his brother. Their father’s actions had not changed, and Verin still stepped in, but Venser was less of a shell now – life was returning to the younger’s cold eyes, something that Verin had wondered if he would ever see. It gave him hope, and that hope spurred him to continue helping his brother along.
Tearing his eyes away from the water, he felt relaxed enough to try to center his younger brother, and he turned his head. Pale orbs met crystalline ones, and he smiled just a little, “You will be safe, with me.” Sometimes, he hated himself for manipulating his brother in this manner, for lying to the one person that he had never held secrets from. But then he reminded himself that it was Rhysol’s influence, and that this manipulation would help the younger twin, rather than hinder him. Verin did not think anything momentous would occur from his art, but the small changes were enough for Verin to continue.
*
88th Day of Fall, 507AV
Verin sat silently as he watched the dichotomies of black and white dance together on the water, where Leth’s brilliant reflection mingled with the natural shadows of night in the city of Ravok. No matter how beautiful the day was, Verin had always preferred the cool silence of the night, where he could remain and listen to the slosh of water against the floating city. When his father, Vilkas Rush, had taken his brother and him to Syliras, he had missed the quiet nature of the lake-city, where Chaos ruled as an illusion of peace over the citizens. Syliras, the orderly city, had seemed more packed, bustling, and there was no peace. At least… not the type that Verin, and his younger twin brother, Venser, sought out.
Here, though, they could be alone with their thoughts. Anyone who might pass them would be too busy with their own lives to think too teenage boys were worth the distraction. That was the beauty of Ravok; the people of Rhysol’s domain respected privacy, as it generally meant that they would receive the favour in kind. It was only through Verin’s visit to the ‘Capital’ that he truly understood what Ravok offered him, and it cemented his complete devotion to the Defiler, much to his father’s dismay.
Because, for Chaos to truly reign, as it did in Ravok, the people had to see law, which they didn’t in Sunberth, if the stories he had heard had any truth in them. In Ravok, the feeble minded saw no corruption or disarray, but order. Chaos snuck up on you, it seeped into your very soul, slowly changing, transforming you, until it was too late to do anything about it. Verin saw this now, and he had accepted the concept. He would never been the Sylirist that his father hoped he would be – the corruption was too deeply ingrained in his psyche, and he had embraced it, just as he had his faith. But through this Chaos, he had been elevated, as Verin had used it to climb the ladder, whereas Vilkas had fallen to it, unable to get a stable footing on the ground that he so desperately relied on. Vilkas was feeble in mind, though not in body. He would not survive what Ravok had changed within him.
“We should return soon, brother,” the elder of the Rush brothers murmured quietly, as if a louder sound would disturb the hush of the waters resting below them. “We have no cloaks, and even here, we will feel the cold if we are not careful.” He knew how much those words would dismay Venser, but he had to be reasonable. Staying out all night was not a sensible move… if anything, it might leave Venser in even more danger from the drunkard that no doubt waited for them when they finally did deign to return.
As he continued to watch the ripples of water, which acted as a surreal looking-glass, he considered using Hypnotism on the younger blond. In the seasons since he had first, clumsily, used the magic on Venser, he had seen a slight change in his brother. Their father’s actions had not changed, and Verin still stepped in, but Venser was less of a shell now – life was returning to the younger’s cold eyes, something that Verin had wondered if he would ever see. It gave him hope, and that hope spurred him to continue helping his brother along.
Tearing his eyes away from the water, he felt relaxed enough to try to center his younger brother, and he turned his head. Pale orbs met crystalline ones, and he smiled just a little, “You will be safe, with me.” Sometimes, he hated himself for manipulating his brother in this manner, for lying to the one person that he had never held secrets from. But then he reminded himself that it was Rhysol’s influence, and that this manipulation would help the younger twin, rather than hinder him. Verin did not think anything momentous would occur from his art, but the small changes were enough for Verin to continue.
*
