@impcler
what does it mean to be a god? miquella doesn't quite know the answer. is divinity built on the back of death? is it carved from corpses? unfamiliar land and spirit - graves stretch before him, captured in his golden gaze. he will decipher it for himself.
but first, shadow awaits. his first days were spent with caution. he wishes to discover this realm, torn page by page from every history book; marika's doing, certainly, but she did not purge her journey from her own mind, the mind she chipped into the thousands of stone tablets surrounding her bedchamber. miquella spent days among the light of the erdtree reading, comprehending, learning - of a divine gateway where grace came to be, where the elden ring forged its arcs. now, within the black keep, surrounded by ever - approaching darkness, he stands out like a rainbow stone in a well.
it's not hard for someone to spot him. miquella simply disappears through hallway after hallway, with no semblance of where he's going. sometimes, one simply needs to be childish - though, that instinct is easier in the body of one. regardless, he plays cat - and - mouse with iron - faced guards until finally losing them in rapid flights of stairs.
closing the door behind him when he enters the last room ( he didn't look before he darted inside, caught up in the frivolous game only he was playing ), he looks with a fond glance at the handles. it is only until he hears the faint, accusatory hiss of serpents that he returns, present consuming his thoughts once more.
miquella turns slowly, bits of hair floating out of the way, and comes face to face with red snakeskin. he simply grins, eyes closing, hands tucked behind his back. " greetings, big brother! "
he's read about messmer. he only hopes the other has done the same - and that his sudden intrusion does not paint him in the wrong light.
