city lights bled into the sky, choking out the stars. iron mountains &&. steel beasts replaced the natura that once was. this was the ❛ new world, ❜ the era of human potential at its finest thus far. or so it claimed.
it was positively, excruciatingly, boring.
tyki ached for the ages when humankind pitted itself against the very laws that founded it; the wild, thrilling venture each day brought &&. promised no safe return from. that is, if one didn’t know how to curve fate to his advantage, of course. being the dedicated vodouisant he was, tyki could, hypothetically, do such a thing, but where was the fun in that? he already pestered those precious loa enough as it was to keep his soul strong through all these centuries. to ask for yet more could be a death wish.
of course, twisting fate in the general sense was a piece of cake for this seasoned bokor. raising the dead was just another exercise of his ability. one that he had to keep few &&. infrequent, given, but not at all phenomenal in the least. that’s why, when tyki’s boredom reached its pinnacle &&. he could no longer stand it, he set out in search of something to...entertain him, as it were. it just so happened that he should stumble upon a very intriguing name while traipsing through an ancient plot of graves that were clearly not maintained adequately.
cecil boughten. now that was a name he had all but forgotten. the boy was of little significance at the time of his life, having made little impact on the world at large through his witchcraft. at least, none that tyki had noticed. he seemed to recall having passed through the very village that was at fault for cecil’s demise at the very moment they burned him. it was quite the grotesque sight, like many others he had witnessed, but he hadn’t stayed long. it was just another ritual killing that he was helpless to stop. he didn’t want to get burned at the stake, now did he? he simply moved on, &&. now there he was once more.
reviving the witch had been a simple decision. the self-proclaimed ❛ witches ❜ of this day &&. age were largely impostors, pretending to know the wills of the deities they so blindly worship. tyki was quite honestly rather sick of it. now, to have a real, genuine witch rejoin the world that has fallen into a plague of lethargy &&. stupidity—that promised entertainment, at the least.
since that fateful moment, tyki had been watching cecil, studying him, waiting ever so giddily for the ripples of change he was sure to inspire. perhaps he would give birth to a new era of witchcraft wherein innocent practitioners weren’t prosecuted, or maybe he would exact his revenge on the ignorance that led to his untimely death. either outcome was fine by tyki, so long as he got a front row seat.
unfortunately, no such sweeping affair made its debut. tyki followed cecil wheresoever his ( admittedly amusing ) confusion took him, even disguising himself in the asylum the boy was placed in for a time just to keep an eye on him. however, by the time he slipped his way out of the asylum, he had already conformed to the ways of this century. tyki was beyond disappointed. he had brought this ungrateful leech back to life, damn it, &&. this is all he received for it? whichever loa deemed fit to preside over this young man certainly had a horrid sense of humour.
presently, the witch doctor sat upon a bench across the street from the building cecil had wandered into, snakelike eyes following the blond’s every movement through the windows. he heaved a sigh of impatience. he had already waited an incredulous amount of time for this cretin to do something worthwhile; at this point he was tempted to put the waste of potential back in the ground himself.
he was so lost in disappointment &&. steadily rising anger that he paid little attention to himself. if cecil should only look up, tyki’s interest in him would be insultingly blatant. the look in his eye was none too friendly, either.
