Most people would without a doubt have found the story of how Alistair had received Syroa’s blessing gruesome and admitted such. They might have shuddered and been visibly uncomfortable. The Mortalborn who had been alive for centuries and seen the best and worst of humanity – and the divine beings that ruled over them – during that time only inclined his head though, a sign that he appreciated the fact that Alistair had agreed to tell him. He looked at him for a moment, thinking about what he had heard before he slowly spoke,
“Syroa never betrayed me. She never pretended to be something that she wasn’t. She came to me approximately a decade ago when I was working at a hospital in Ne’haer. I was a doctor once, just like you are now, Alistair, and I tried to save lives rather than taking them. She never told me why she had chosen me, but I think it has something to do with what I am”, he mused. The Immortal of Lust seemed to be drawn to those that felt empty inside, that hungered for more, that wanted to rise above the people that surrounded them, that weren’t content with the status quo – and he had always longed to step out of his immortal father’s shadow.
Her Blessed likely numbered in the hundreds, but there were few that could claim to share her divinity.
Unlike Alistair he had never known humility. He had always considered himself to be superior to most of his peers, even in those early trials when he had lived the life of a common man due to the powers that his Immortal blood afforded him. He could read somebody’ memories with but a touch, he had stolen the light of one of Xiur’s creatures just by moving his hand and made a man’s blood boil. Since the trial that he had stood on the battlefield in Oscillus he had worked tirelessly to become stronger as well as more powerful.
Most people would happily have served as Etzos’ ambassador for the rest of their lives and rested on their laurels while occasionally entertaining their admirers with stories of their past accomplishments, but he wanted to be so much more than the Hero of Oscillus and another one of Ziell’s countless bastards. Meeting Alistair again, after all that time, had turned out to be far more impactful that he had thought at first, when the man had knocked on his door, nearly mad with despair. Together, he thought, they would be able to accomplish so much more than they could ever hope to accomplish on their own.
Alistair’s body was cold, but he didn’t mind. His own skin tended to be slightly cool to the touch as well, as if he had been outside, in the snow a hint too long, perhaps due to his being a child of Winter, as the mage would discover when he took his hand. He didn’t say anything as Alistair promised him that he would be his. This was not the time for words in his opinion, there would be enough time for them to continue their conversation later on. Instead, he made another step towards him in order to close the final centimeters between them and in order to wrap an arm around the other man. There was nothing hesitant about the way that he touched him – he had not been hesitant for centuries - and nothing soft and gentle about the way that he returned his kisses.
His kisses were firm and passionate, and they were only the beginning, a promise of much more to come - and a future far greater than anything that either of them could ever have imagined.
“Syroa never betrayed me. She never pretended to be something that she wasn’t. She came to me approximately a decade ago when I was working at a hospital in Ne’haer. I was a doctor once, just like you are now, Alistair, and I tried to save lives rather than taking them. She never told me why she had chosen me, but I think it has something to do with what I am”, he mused. The Immortal of Lust seemed to be drawn to those that felt empty inside, that hungered for more, that wanted to rise above the people that surrounded them, that weren’t content with the status quo – and he had always longed to step out of his immortal father’s shadow.
Her Blessed likely numbered in the hundreds, but there were few that could claim to share her divinity.
Unlike Alistair he had never known humility. He had always considered himself to be superior to most of his peers, even in those early trials when he had lived the life of a common man due to the powers that his Immortal blood afforded him. He could read somebody’ memories with but a touch, he had stolen the light of one of Xiur’s creatures just by moving his hand and made a man’s blood boil. Since the trial that he had stood on the battlefield in Oscillus he had worked tirelessly to become stronger as well as more powerful.
Most people would happily have served as Etzos’ ambassador for the rest of their lives and rested on their laurels while occasionally entertaining their admirers with stories of their past accomplishments, but he wanted to be so much more than the Hero of Oscillus and another one of Ziell’s countless bastards. Meeting Alistair again, after all that time, had turned out to be far more impactful that he had thought at first, when the man had knocked on his door, nearly mad with despair. Together, he thought, they would be able to accomplish so much more than they could ever hope to accomplish on their own.
Alistair’s body was cold, but he didn’t mind. His own skin tended to be slightly cool to the touch as well, as if he had been outside, in the snow a hint too long, perhaps due to his being a child of Winter, as the mage would discover when he took his hand. He didn’t say anything as Alistair promised him that he would be his. This was not the time for words in his opinion, there would be enough time for them to continue their conversation later on. Instead, he made another step towards him in order to close the final centimeters between them and in order to wrap an arm around the other man. There was nothing hesitant about the way that he touched him – he had not been hesitant for centuries - and nothing soft and gentle about the way that he returned his kisses.
His kisses were firm and passionate, and they were only the beginning, a promise of much more to come - and a future far greater than anything that either of them could ever have imagined.
