@slewfirst !
where once his kingdom stood, there is naught but ash and blood and death lingering in the air. leon hates the way he can breathe it in, the way he can taste it on the back of his tongue when he breathes deep, and curses his senses. the moon is almost too bright tonight, almost too sharp for eyes so used to the dark, but it’s been so long. . .so, so long since he came home.
so long -- and what remains for him to return to? his foot brushes a board fallen to the side, a support that tumbled when the stone above it cracked from the heat of the fire, and he turns his head down to peer at it. there is a scorched book pinned beneath it and it is when he bends to pick it up that he hears footsteps behind him.
there is an eerie glow to his eyes when he turns sharp to the sound, fingers twitching for the blade at his waist -- but he pauses. there is a boy staring at him, with a too big cloak clutched around his shoulders. a cloak that is breathtakingly, heartrendingly familiar.
“ -- you are. . .a belmont. ”
