Post by Draco on Sept 10, 2017 18:59:44 GMT -5
Incomprehensible. A shifting mass, pulsating, immune, white as snow and black as pitch. His thousand eyes see the weight of the world, and see into his iced home even now. Yet he loved that child, blasted and human, yet, said child saw him without wincing, looking him dead into his millennium of eyes. He was real to this child. Unlike the tangled mass reaching through the thousand dimensions and twisting the world around him, what he saw was much more...tame. The child felt its own capability of love, and he felt a twisted version of it in recorporation. If a mind with the knowledge of a thousand or more worlds, beyond the sensations felt by a human brain could remember such a simple life, a mundane oddity, then he would. He would give the child his own power, and let his mind breach the chains of sanity. The child was more than a thrall, more than an occult leader, born to be preserved in catacombs or burned in hellfire, this child was his.
If he had a word for this child, it would be friend.
If he had a word for this child, it would be friend.
