@zantedeschia-praesul
[Lost] My muse is lost, either physically or emotionally, and is struggling to find their way back.
[ Shichiseiken -> Ouji]
"You're quiet today."
The young man did not raise his head from the pillow even at the voice that had not announced itself when entering.
He'd been in bed for two days by then, simply laying down and trying to think.
But the appearance of one of his priced possessions, the ancient sword Shichiseiken, managed to make him stir enough to open his eyes, although he did not look at the other directly.
"They're coming for my throne," he managed to breathe out, before closing his eyes again, showing unusual trust in a sword that was not his Heshikiri.
Shichiseiken simply watched the other's covered form in the big, canopied bed. He looked so small, so much more like the child he was, than the dragon he tried to portray. He was more akin to a falling star, fleeting in his glory and destined for certain tragedy.
But he didn't need words to understand that his current master, if he really could call him that, was lost in his own head. Tormented by the paranoia, and the sleepless nights that painted foes in every corner.
"I might not be the one you wish to hear from, but even I can offer guidance. I've lived long, and seen much of the world. Would you like to unburden yourself to me?"
Ouji stayed silent for a moment more, simply staring up at the canopy ceiling of his bed. He did not give any sign of having heard the other, but the sword knew that the little master needed the time.
It was impossible to expect him to trust anyone without careful deliberation.
"...I don't know what to think. My head is so empty, but also full. The thoughts don't connect, nothing makes sense," Ouji finally sighed, his golden eyes blinking open to look in Shichiseiken's direction, as the other stood a safe, polite distance away.
"The stars are aligned tonight, if you wish to make a move. But just know, this all ends in death."
That got Ouji's attention, frowning as he turned to look at the sword spirit, distrust in his eyes, but also alarm.
"....Whose death?"
"Such is fate."
"Whose death---?!"
But there was no response.
