@godwyne ❝ many years ago, i felt so free… ❞
"And what doth thou feel now, hm?" He inquired, words cruel and tauntingly playful. While eager to hear what the Queen Goddess might lament on, the Corpse Blood continued, questioning further, "Shackled by divinity? A renowned prison? Torn and frayed at the ends with the need to maintain order?"
Agravaine reclaimed his own freedom when he tore flesh from bone and made it his own. Godhood was his freedom. His right reclaimed. After centuries of being shackled by the poison tainting his blood, muttering in his eyes, wrecking his very body and molding him into something he could barely place his eyes upon--- the lord was respected. Even if out of fear. No longer was he ignored. No longer was he shunned to the dark. A ruler, rightfully so, among those living and those dead. The land his to shape and mold to his spined heart's desire.
And while the presence that lingers beneath his skin still attempts it's claim on his mind and body, Agravaine retains control over himself. There was hope yet to drain that vile thing from his veins. Anything lesser than the divine would have succumbed ages ago.
He turned his blazing sights to Marika. Large frame moving with a gentle sound of jewels colliding together, golden chimes of wealth that catch the light against the dark robes that concealed his figure. "The cage is of your own creation. A cage made up by exceptions, rules, and those who follow them. Break it's bars." He encouraged, "If thee can, Queen Marika."