Auryn stops and looks up at the sound of wings, the sudden blotting of light, breath catching at the shape of lion's body, eagle-like wings, a human-like face but much larger. A sphinx. It can't be real, but then what defines that, anyway? Even if it's not, the purity of the illusion, the solidity of its presence is amazing.
He can feel his father's dogtags strangely cold against his neck as he looks back into its eyes steadily.
The words are familiar, resonate somewhere that he knows, some sense memory of turning pages. but he can't focus right now on anything but the riddle itself. "Comes first and follows after," he repeats to himself, the sphinx a breath away, but he knows this. Kills laughter. It's nothing. No, not nothing -- "Darkness," he says abruptly, looking back up, and repeats himself certainly. "It's the dark."
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Date: 2014-12-25 05:12 am (UTC)Even if it's not, the purity of the illusion, the solidity of its presence is amazing.
He can feel his father's dogtags strangely cold against his neck as he looks back into its eyes steadily.
The words are familiar, resonate somewhere that he knows, some sense memory of turning pages. but he can't focus right now on anything but the riddle itself. "Comes first and follows after," he repeats to himself, the sphinx a breath away, but he knows this. Kills laughter. It's nothing. No, not nothing -- "Darkness," he says abruptly, looking back up, and repeats himself certainly. "It's the dark."