Akheron (nociception) wrote in fragmented, @ 2013-04-09 20:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | akheron, styx, zz:plot - the reason |
ektopos (styx)
His mind was full of... possibilities. So it was here that he found himself. How many times had he taken hold of her, and she of him? How many times had that promise been made? Eternity was a word that humans did not truly understand. To want an eternity was not the same thing as knowing it was yours. Knowing and understanding all of the various ways such a thing could sour. If they truly understood what an age was, and all of the pain such a thing could contain, they wouldn't want life eternal. Some understood, at the end. Some were glad for an end to this suffering. Akheron could not hope for such a thing.
And in any case, hope was not his duty.
His thoughts lingered on Styx. On his wife. No longer his wife. If this Erebos could be believed... he was nothing more than a shadow. Stuffed full of the memories of a real being and then left here to rot. Akheron did not understand how such a thing could be real. Who would do this? Why would they do this? It was a strange sort of destiny visited upon him. To know that everything he'd had was in its right place - including him. Yet here he was. There must have been a reason. There must have been a reason that any of them would do this.
As it had been upon his first visit - this place was wrong. Styx was not ostentatious. This was something of a display. A show for those who came to see. Akheron imagined that ... in another life, another place, such things were possibly needed. Perhaps even required. Such a place was not the sort of world for which his heart longed. What was it about this wild, impetuous creature that drew him back to her? To her home? She was no more his wife than he was home.
Yet here he was.
He supposed the river, which ringed the whole of the place, was the same. As a younger self he'd imagined immersing his hand in it. Just to see. But the fire and pain of his own river gave him pause every time. For him the water was life. For another the water was torment without end. Akheron had imagined what it would be like to try it. She had never said a word of it to him. Yet he sometimes thought those small moments, when she looked at him, she knew what he was thinking. Perhaps even enjoying it.
Part of him wanted this other Styx to find him here. Part of him wanted her to be as outraged. Part of him wanted... to what? To share with her, as he'd always done? Any fool could see that she was not as she was supposed to be. The very idea of sharing something with her was outrageous beyond words. A stranger. He wished he could have said why he had come here. Akheron knew frailty of all kinds. Rest was essential. His mind was not following its usual patterns.
Stress, and fear.
How long since he'd been afraid?
Pale, rough fingers traced the iron of that stairwell she admired so. She must have admired it - the thing was hideous and impractical. She would be here soon enough, and no doubt angry at him for having entered without permission for a second time.