Mar 19, 2019
I bring you a continuation of Snake Chomps Wayway - which I am calling “Snakes that Bind” starting now! Basic plot details below. I may or may not write a short story for this.
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I bring you a continuation of Snake Chomps Wayway - which I am calling “Snakes that Bind” starting now! Basic plot details below. I may or may not write a short story for this.
Basically, Kese (Wren’s snake) is the one that Waylyn found. Waylyn runs away from the survivors, Kese seems to be whispering to him, chomps off his arm and becomes arm. As dreamed by @unluckiest-cats-trashpile.
THEN Wraith appears before him one night. Inviting him to their palace. To talk. For a night of rest and food. (I’m telling you now Wraith’s not gonna do anything weird they’re just lonely and crave emotional closeness and understanding - that is, a friend). When Waylyn wakes up, he’s back on the surface.
Every now and then, when Waylyn wasn’t in the best place at the coming of night, Wraith would invite them back. The frequency increased, their twisted friendship tying the two ever more powerfully together, saturating Waylyn with shadows and granting him greater closeness to Their powers. Wraith begins to spend time on the Surface with Waylyn, as well, vanishing if the other survivors ever get close.
Snakes That Bind, Part Three
I have neglected to post oops But here is part three of four! It is a long one.
Words: 1822 Part One | Two
Wraith/Wren: Me Waylyn: @unluckiest-black-cat
Waylyn opened his eyes. Breathed. Blinked.
He felt...
He felt powerful, brimming with energy. A coldness seeping into his blood, his bones, sapping not his strength, but his weakness.
He sat up, inadvertently using his his right arm, which twinged with phantom pain but felt more like an iciness sunken deep where his flesh one used to be.
He lifted it to inspect it. It was a smooth black, with a stripe as black as void twisting around his forearm before it disappeared into his bloodied sleeve. A crest of something like horns sprang from the back of his wrist.
He ran his flesh hand across his new one. He could feel sensations from it just as if it were his own arm.
A shift, and a line appeared on the side of his hand, before it widened, revealing the glowing yellow eyes that were now so familiar to him.
“Kese...?”
Y̸͈͖͙͙͎̼̎ę̵͇̯͇͉̥̭̄ṣ̸̡̩̗͇̭̬̏͒̏̐͋.̵̢̒̂̚
Its voice was all staticky again.
Waylyn looked around, eyeing the skeletal remains nearby. It sparked the ugly feeling that plagued him every time he saw them.
He started laughing. First an unsuppressed giggle, soon an unbearable cackling clawing at his lungs.
Once he calmed down and the grin fell from his face, he looked down at his new hand.
“You’re all I can trust.”
—
“Mmm... hmm...” Waylyn was sitting in the dying light of his campfire, humming a random little tune to himself.
Well, not just to himself. To Kese, as well. To Them. These days, They never attacked him. They just lingered around him, flitting at the corners of his vision, whispering to him.
Kese talked. Some days, Waylyn could understand. Other days, everything was just a mess of static in his mind.
Today, Everyone was almost silent. The whispers seemed less communicating to him and more murmuring amongst Themselves.
Waylyn looked up at the dying light of the sky, seeing the pale moon rise. It looks like it might be a full moon tonight. Has it only been a month?
He suddenly felt tired. Hungry. He just wanted some peace, some rest, some reprieve. But wasn’t he happier like this? Well, he was still tired.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he watched the fire at last burn out, leaving the moon his only source of light. But slowly, a clicking sound grew in volume, echoing in his mind. As if someone was approaching.
A black flame sprouted before him, growing into a tower of darkness. From within it, a form emerged. He first saw the heels, tapping against the solid shadow spread across the ground. His gaze rose, and he saw the billowing coat of darkness, the glint of claws in the moonlight. A trail of black flame lined with white, twisting around, leading to a crown of insubstantial hair framing a face cast in shadow.
Their eyes opened, revealing an eerie yellow. The same yellow as Kese’s eyes. (The same yellow his eyes were turning, when he saw his reflection in a pond.)
A grin split their face, an array of sharpened, white teeth. “Waylyn. How good it is to see you.”
As the portal disappeared behind them, the light of the moon exposed their face, and Waylyn’s eyes widened in shock.
“Wren? We all thought... We all thought you were gone for good.”
Their grin simply grew wider. “In some manner, that is the case. Call me Wraith.”
Waylyn’s gaze shuttered. “Where did you go? What did you do?” You left me with everyone that betrayed me, he didn’t say.
Wraith turned their gaze to the shadows. “I found a way to fulfill my wishes. And to fulfill those of others. But there was a... transition period. And there are rules to follow.”
Once again, Wraith turned their gaze to Waylyn. “But now, They are mine. The Throne,” they paused for effect, “is mine. They are your friends, yes? As is Kese here.” They gestured toward Waylyn’s arm.
Waylyn glared at them suspiciously. “You know Kese?”
Wraith cackled. “Kese was my closest friend for years. We, too, can be—if you so desire. You and I knew each other quite well, once. Now then, Waylyn.” Wraith walked closer and bent down, offering a hand. “Come with me. A night of food and rest is yours for the taking.”
He peered suspiciously at the clawed hand. “What’s the catch?”
The smile carved itself back on Wraith’s face. “Company, nothing more. You’ve suffered much, haven’t you? This is your reward.” They locked eyes with Waylyn.
“Trust me.”
Waylyn reached out his hand.
—
It was the best he’d eaten since... since Before, probably. Waylyn sat next to Wraith, who sat at the head of the table.
He started digging in as soon as the food materialized before him. Wraith laughed a little helplessly.
Once Waylyn had satiated himself to some extent, he noticed Wraith wasn’t eating. “Aren’t you eating anything?” He said around a mouth full of the juiciest meat he’s ever eaten.
Wraith shook their head, still smiling. “No, no, I am sustained by Their power, nothing more. This isn’t even my real body, though it is a construct that holds my consciousness.” Their gaze grew distant. “My real body is... elsewhere.”
They blinked a bit. “Ah, nevermind that. Now let’s see...” Reaching out, their hand hovered near Waylyn’s arm. Waylyn paused eating, confused.
The stripe of pure darkness shifted on his arm, uncoiling and reshaping to form a familiar shape that then wound around Wraith’s arm, though the tail was still attached to Waylyn.
“It is good to see you again, my friend. Be good to Waylyn, will you?” Kese flicked out its tongue, retreating back to Waylyn in mere moments. At Waylyn’s look, Wraith gave a carefree shrug. “I wanted to say hello.”
“I... didn’t know Kese could do that.”
“Ah, that was with my power. Usually, this would not be possible.”
“Oh.”
They continued to converse about random topics, until they arrived at the one that made Waylyn’s blood boil.
“I just... I can’t believe they would betray me like that! I thought they would understand. I thought that they understood me.”
Wraith gave a light pat on Waylyn’s shoulder. “They simply cared more for their own wellbeing than your happiness with Kese. There will always be people who do not understand.”
“Gh...” Waylyn clenched his teeth. “I can’t help but feel like things would have been better if you were there.”
“Oh?”
“You did always listen to what I had to say, even when I could see that displeased look on your face.”
“Perhaps. I’m certain things would have different, at least, if Wren was there.” Wraith sat back in their seat. “But I am here now. And I will listen to what you say.”
A choked laugh escaped from Waylyn. “Better late than never, I guess.”
Eventually, the soporific effect of being well-fed began to weigh on his eyes.
“Ah, I suppose that’s enough talk. Come now, Waylyn. I’ll take you to where you can rest.”
He had a vague sensation of being half-carried to a room, where he was lowered to the softest bedsheets he’d ever felt in his life. He was enveloped in warmth, slipping into oblivion.
“Rest well, Waylyn. We’ll see each other again.”
—
When Waylyn opened his eyes again, he was back at his camp.
He sat up, looking around. “Was that a dream...?”
He inspected himself, and to his surprise, his clothes were cleaned and mended. He felt... He hardly felt hungry at all—compared to the ceaseless gnawing he had since coming here—and he hasn’t felt this energized in ages.
“I guess... it wasn’t a dream, Kese?”
Ņ̸̳̲̟̖̗͎̼͗̏͆̍̄̀̈́̄o̶̧̧̲̭̻̦͈͌̋̀̽̿̕ͅ
Waylyn stretched and got up.
—
The next time Wraith came to visit, Waylyn was curled up on his side, nursing his DragonFly-inflicted burns. The gems were worth it, though. Stolen from right under her nose!
She wasn’t happy when she spotted him as he was leaving, though. The burns spoke for themselves. Kese wasn’t very happy, either.
“Tsk, tsk, you don't seem to be doing so well tonight.”
Waylyn cracked open an eye, shooting a glare at the current lord of shadows. “You think?”
“My apologies I did not visit sooner. There are certain requirements.” Wraith came closer, bending over him.
“Ah, that does not look good.” They waved a hand over him, shadows rippling, and the pain faded to a dull ache.
“I can heal you. Come with me.” A hand, held out.
“Yeah, fine.” He took it, and shadows enveloped him both.
—
When he opened his eyes, he was seated at the table again. His body was completely healed, clothes without a single tear or stain.
“Welcome back to the world of the living. Actually... perhaps that is,” Wraith coughs, “not quite accurate. But welcome back to my palace!”
Waylyn raised an eyebrow. “How did you do that all so fast?”
They waved a hand. “Oh, it was only a few minutes. A little infusion of shadow magic. It helps that you're so compatible with the darkness.” Sharp teeth flash in a grin.
Compatible, huh.
Kese’s whispers echoed in his mind.
Once again, Waylyn ate and conversed with Wraith. And when sleepiness once again weighed upon his eyes, they led him to his bedroom to sleep.
—
Wraith started visiting more often.
“The closer you are to the shadows, the easier it is for me to come.”
They exchanged words, stole a few platonic touches. Pats, a hand on a shoulder. Reminiscent of an age ago, without the taint of shadows.
Wraith would carry him to bed sometimes, when he was feeling particularly tired.
“How the heck... can you carry me so easily?” Face muffled against a coat smooth as shadow.
A laugh vibrating through him. “Construct, remember? I can do what I want.”
Waylyn pulling clawed hands to him, inspecting them, running his fingers across the tips. The same hands that helped him an age ago, or not?
Wraith running their hand across Kese, pulled from Waylyn’s arm.
Wraith sticking a hand in his hair, their marvel at its voluminous softness unchanged from when their eyes and hands were softer.
S̴͉̐ẖ̷̒a̶͓̓d̸̯͝õ̵͔w̵̠̾s̵̞̿,̶͓́ ̴̣̊s̵̡͊t̵̨͋ă̸̙i̴͓̽n̵̦͘ḯ̴̜n̴̼͐g̵͈͗ ̶̯̃h̵̟́i̵͙̽s̵͇̕ ̶̠̄ś̵̺ò̷̗u̷̙͛l̴̡͗.̴̩̆ ̶̹̏S̷̮̈́h̴̗̓a̷̺̒d̸̢͝o̸͚̚w̵̗͘s̴̤̓ ̸͈͌ţ̷͘h̶̞͊a̴̜͐ṭ̶̅ ̵̠̓h̴̰̿à̵̙v̴͔̕ë̶̯́ ̶̻̿s̶̅͜t̷̨͗á̶̭i̷͈͂n̵͉̕e̵̖̔d̸͓͌ ̶̲̂Ẃ̷̗ř̶̜e̸̱͒n̵̩͊’̵̡̎s̴̩̓ ̸͇̄s̴̡̀o̸̦͌u̷̦̍l̷̦̐.̴̛͈ ̸̱̕I̴͓̚t̷̡́'̶͉̂s̸̤̓ ̸̖͆w̸͖͐h̴̥̃ȃ̶̹t̶̨̑ ̸͌ͅỷ̷͓o̸͈͐u̶̙͒ ̶̞͂ẃ̷̗a̷̙͘ń̶̮t̵̬̏è̷̜d̷̞͘,̶̯̉ ̴̟͋i̴̹̐s̷̤͋ń̷̪'̴͓͋ẗ̵̢́ ̴̻͊i̸͌ͅt̸̩̎?̷̧̋ ̵̳̌T̵̩̑h̶̲̑ǐ̸͍š̸͇ ̷̼̍i̸̘͋s̵̖͗ ̷̼́a̴̙̐ ̶̟̇s̷̜͐ḿ̸̱a̵͔̒ḽ̴̈l̸͈̊ ̸̘͘p̶̼̀r̵͔͑ì̸͎c̷̝͛ë̸̢́ ̵̭͂t̵͙̍o̷̯̚ ̸̻̑p̷̠̔ã̸̤y̵̅ͅ ̸̨̕f̶̰͛ȯ̸͓r̵̮̎ ̸̘̓ȳ̸̖ơ̴̳u̴̽ͅr̵̩͗ ̷͕́w̷͍̓i̶̠̊s̵̪͐h̸͇́ḛ̴̌s̴̢͛.̸̹̋
Smiles less sharp. Shadowed eyes more open. Wraith would stay with him, sometimes, as he fell asleep, and sometimes when he woke up in the morning on the Surface. Before vanishing in flames of shadow.
They were...
They were almost...
Happy?
H̶̙̅a̴̧͗h̶͔́a̸͈͂h̵̿͜a̸̭͂h̶̛̤â̵̫h̸͉͐ạ̷̿.̶͕͝ ̸̹̈́T̷̪͊h̶̤̅e̴͕̕ ̴͍̈́s̵̩͝ḧ̷̗a̶͇̓d̴̒͜o̶͓͋w̵̝̒s̸̫̋ ̴̜́w̸̻̉ị̷͗l̴̜̍l̶͚̈ ̸̼͘b̶̼̔i̸̓͜n̴̰̅d̷̨̄ ̴͈̾y̵̩̓ö̴̧́u̸͚͋ ̵̘̚e̸̬̐v̵̨́e̶͚̿r̵͔̾ ̵̱̏c̷̥̽l̶͍̋ò̷͉s̴͇̀e̴͍̍r̷͛ͅ.̴̰̇ ̴̙͆̈́Ì̷͇̮̩͛t̸̒ͅ'̷͍͓̆̀̇s̴̡̱̥̙͌͆ ̵̢̧̲̉͝w̶̛͖̟̗̥͒̌̔h̵̪̫̀̂̄a̶͙͋͒͆ṫ̴̙͕͐ ̸͎̓͒́y̴̼͕̝̏̋o̴̡̩͙̝͑̀ü̷͖̭̆̒ ̷̢̎̉̂̄w̵͉̦̓̀̈́ạ̵̭̫͙͝n̸͖̍͠t̷̢͙͕̓̓̊͘.̵̝̓͂̕ ̷͓̯͈̦̀W̵͉͍̭̾h̶̯͊ą̵̬͕͈̈̃̎t̸̗͕̗̥̋ ̷̞̮͈̙̋y̵̖̟̓͐̾͜o̴̝̫̊͠͝ú̶̱̰͊͝ ̴̨̙̝̲͘b̷͕̍̀̇͠ȯ̷̲̏͂̕͜t̸̫̙͌̓̔h̷̨̳̞̽̓͘ ̵̩̋̿́̉ẅ̶̡̧̻́ȃ̵̖̩͇̃͌͝ņ̵̍͝t̶͚̞͛.̶̧̥̜̦̃͊͝ ̴̝͇̭͑͐̚J̶̡͙͇̤̘̼͔̈͂͒̓u̶̪̟͓̳͇̍͐͒̎͌s̴̭̭͚̼̃̍̒͘ͅẗ̸̩͉̳̩̖͖̉̂ ̷̨̘̖̹̬͉͕͓̉ò̸̺̳̑ņ̷̬̪̙̪̥̜̣̅͑̆́̚͝ę̷̮͕͉̦͇͗́̎̌͗ ̴͇̍̑͐̆̀͗f̸͓̱̮̄ͅi̵̩̬͉͕̪͎̬͓͐̔͗̕n̵̡̢̖͚͍͍̞̠̊̆̀̄ǎ̶͖̖̠̻̮͉̫͆͐͜͠l̵̡̢̲̖̓͛̃̓̃̓̕ ̸̛͍̭̭̰͈̆̆̍̆̈́̾̍͜p̷̛̗̪̩̯̣̙͕̔̀̇̊̈́̈͜ụ̴̢̻̒̎s̶̢̼̖̬̤̝̯͗̒̕͜h̸̼̣̼̣̺̺̿̀̓̿͛̇͘͜͝.̴̧̬̥̠̥̞̥̽́͗͋̎͘
Ǫ̸̛̛̻̫̬͙̘̱͇͈͇̳̱͙͍̈̀͑̐̓̽͆̚͝͝n̵̬̳͑̃̐́͋̈́͆̐͋͑͛̈́́̚͝ͅȩ̶̨̢̠̩̮͙̝̤̭̈͗̌͆͆̔̇͠ ̵̛̞͍̋̀̒̈́̑́͊͋̽̽̕͠͝f̶̖͙̼̥̱̓̀͂͑̽̓̿̐͝͝i̴̢̨̢̠̜͓̲̞͈͔̜̣͙̰̥͛̄̄̈͛͆͂̈̽̄̓̕ņ̵̧̫̝͉̰͔̯̞̳͍̭̭̠̓́̑͐̿̂̃̓͂̑͜͝a̵̢̛̛̳̺̪͔̖͇̖̠͌̂̈̇́̊̉̄̊̓͝l̵̦͓̳̯̼͆̽͌̽̐͌̀̈́͝͝ ̵̳̼̒̍̀̀͌̋̎̔͑͘͜p̸͔̗͉͉̮̩̗͛̀͒̅͊͐́̕̕ư̶̢͕͕͚͂͛̕ͅs̵͕̲̥͝h̴̨̯͕̪͚̩̖̹̝̮̜̟̠͖̃̇͒̅̚͝ͅ,̴̧̨͎͈͈̞̼̮͑̌̇͐͜ ̸̗̙͈̹̳̮̝̣̦̣̩̣̂̃̃̔͝ă̷̡̛̩̻̙̱͍̓̓̀̽́̕͠n̶̛͔͈̘͕̻͕̼̯̘̹̰͙͒̆́̓́̽͝ḑ̸̨͎̘̼̩̣̫̰̝̜̳̼̒͊͆͐̊̓̅͛̑͐̈́ ̷͈̻̲̬̯͛̔y̶͚͆̾o̶̡̠̫͖̝͓̣͔͕̙̦͉̹̻̊̊͊͆͗̋̈́̂̾̈́̐́̂u̵̢̠̠̫͔͖͗͑̒͐̀̃̉̍̿̕ͅ ̸̧̜̝̟̟̣̣͗̎̍̃́͘͝w̷̢̨̖̼̰͖̍͜i̵̛̪̪͈͖̗͔̒́͂̽̌̏͑̇̓̑̀͘̕͝ͅl̴͍͓͉͉̠͎̱̾̔̐̎͐̇̾̓͛̒̀́̕l̶͚͔̺̯͕̥̈́̏͜͝ ̸̭̣̋b̴̢̨͎̣̥̬̗̯̤̮̰̂̇͐̀͂̈̄͗̊͋̓͘e̴͐͗̆͌̔͂́̅̂̋̽̅̎͌ͅ ̶̛̮̟̞̾͆̀̋̿̍ͅb̴͇̯͕̟̱̣̪͑̋̇͛͂̿͘͝ͅơ̴̖͙̘̥͙̘̮̜͖̮͇̳̟͍̤͊͑̎̀́̈́u̴̻̠̯͖̠̰̼͈̖̇͋̎̇͊̈̓̆̄̽̔͘͜͝n̵̨̡̜̳͎͈͇̝̲͍̾͌͋́͛́͘ď̴̢͔͎͉̾̎̍̉̀̈̾̾̀̕͠,̶̟͇͓͉̠̯̯̳̼͖̉̓́́̑̑͋̂̍ ̶̟̯͉͈̃͂́̐Ś̸̜̟̱̀̔͌h̴̢͌̃́͗͌̐̇̂̌̍̂̀͒͐͌à̸̛̹̠̣͑͑̈́̎̈̆̚̕d̷͚̳̳͈̥͍̬̃͜͜o̴̻̮̳͋̇̚͜ẁ̵̨̢̼̝̹͍͕̞̫̾̄̎̑̒̈́́̆̆͝ͅ ̵̢̧̰̝̦͚̗͋̑̎͑̍̉̓͆a̴̮̰̲̩͍̅̇̏͒́̉n̵̢̛̙̞̰̩̰͙͂̆͒̾͋͘d̶̡̦̟̼̈̇̀͂̽̓͗͘͠ ̴̡̡̡͕̣̭̥̠̭͍̠̬͌̂̐͊͌̃͑N̷̨̡̛͙̫̙̜̲̲̔̏̏̔̓͌̒̌̈͗͆͘͜͝ỉ̴̗̞̭͔͚̝͓͓̤͖͖ͅǵ̸̢̧̢͓͔̦̤͚͉̥͍͑̆̍́́͛̑̀̐͂͆̚͘͜͝h̴̠̯͎̱̗̍̓͝t̴̛̟̱̫̼͉̰͖̦̮̲͎̳̍̈̾̓̄̄͌͑̌̒̎͂͘ͅ.̵̥͚̳̯̩̘̻̪͔̲̖͇͕̦̈́́͌̓͒͐͂̚̕͠ ̶̤̰̰̤̐͗̉̉̉̈́̀̔͊̌͌̽̃͠
J̷u̸s̸t̶ ̷a̵ ̵l̶i̵t̶t̴l̵e̸,̴ ̵l̵i̸t̵t̷l̵e̴ ̸f̸u̸r̵t̴h̶e̷r̴.̴
The shadows sunk deep into his soul.
Snakes That Bind, Part One
I thought I might share this here! I’ve started to write out the story and I’m having a lot of fun with it.
It’s the story of how Wraith and Snakelyn became best friends / nonbinary bros! In a way.
Words: 1620
Wraith/Wren: Me Waylyn: @unluckiest-black-cat I also borrowed some characters for plot and angst purposes Wenzel ( @the-valiant-valkyrie ), Wayne ( @nightwonder7 ), Whyatt ( @aretmaw )
Tell us...
What do you desire?
A friend. Someone who will understand.
—
Loneliness... is crushing.
No, that wasn't quite right. It was a void. A void that consumed one from the inside out.
Ah, but I had a companion, didn't I? Back on Earth. Back when I was held down by petty little things.
By close-minded humans that simply couldn't—
Hm, this won't do.
“Kese.”
The shadows spring to life under my will, eager to fulfill my desire. I follow the trail of my soul, seeking out...
Yes. Return to me, Kese.
The soul is drawn away from the world a dimension a way, to my hands. I bind it to shadows, and the blackened mass takes form, giving a light hiss and slitting open shimmering yellow eyes.
A sharp toothed grin splits my face.
“Excellent.”
—
A young boy, in his late teens, perhaps, neared the dozing pig king, the twilight of dusk only exposing an undeniable shadow.
He stifled a grin as he expertly filched a handful of gold from the king's... rolls. Just how much did he have, anyways?
He stole into the shadows, avoiding the gaze of the nearby pigs. Giggling to himself, he slipped the glittering gold into his pockets.
Waylyn eyed the setting sun. He probably had about half an hour before nightfall - but he had his lantern, so he should be fine. He set back towards base along the conveniently present road.
Night fell, and Waylyn pulled out his lantern. The shadows seemed to be reaching for him again — no, no, that's his imagination.
But that hiss was definitely not his imagination. A shape slithered towards him out of the shadows, a solid mass of black, no bigger than his forearm, with emptiness where eyes should be. He's never seen anything like it - except for the shadow creatures, but it seemed different.
Waylyn tensed, gripping his lantern. It would be an effective weapon, if necessary.
The shadow snake, for that was what it was, approached no more. It simply watched him.
Apprehension shifted to caution, and that soon became curiosity. Waylyn tried to poke it with the end of his lantern, but it simply did some bendy snake acrobatics to dodge.
It flicked its tongue at him. Waylyn shifted a step closer. And another. He stuck his hand towards the snake. It slithered up his arm.
Waylyn jerked in surprise, but it continued to do nothing but stare, and he relaxed slightly.
It then lay its head on Waylyn's shoulder and closed its eyes.
While Waylyn had no clue what was happening, there was one thing he decided right at that moment.
“Ok, you're my pet now!”
—
The next morning, Waylyn was woken from his doze by a screech of alarm.
“Waylyn! What is that!?”
Waylyn groaned and cracked open his eyes to see Wenzel at the entrance to his tent, pointing a trembling finger at his neck.
Rather, the shadow snake draped across it.
“Mm... ‘s my new pet.”
Wenzel let out a noise of frustration and fear. “That... thing will kill us all! Or mess with our minds! Or,” Wenzel put his face in his hands. “That thing is bad news! You have to get rid of it!”
Sitting up straight, Waylyn glared at Wenzel. “If it wanted to kill us, we'd be dead. It hasn't done anything! There are plenty of harmless creatures here! Besides,” Waylyn rubbed a finger down the snake’s neck, “it's my pet now.”
“Urgh... What is going on over here?” Startled, Wenzel turned his head towards the newcomer. “Wayne! You have to convince him, he's going to destroy us all!”
“Wenzel, calm down. What's going on?” Wayne lifted the flap of the tent, still looking in Wenzel's direction before he turned to face Waylyn, and froze.
“It's my pet now! It hasn't done anything.” Cradling the snake closer to his body, he glared at Wayne.
Still with a frozen expression on his face, Wayne gave a stiff smile. “Isn't that, um. That's a shadow creature, isn't it?”
Waylyn huffed. “It's not like the rest, ok? It hasn't attacked me, or anyone, and you can all see it, can't you? And I don't thing all of us are losing our minds. It's not like the rest of them.”
It was at this point that Whyatt’s voice drifted in. “Why are you all crowding around Waylyn’s tent?”
Waylyn let out a quiet groan of frustration. Not again. Just as Wayne and Wenzel began explaining the situation, Waylyn slipped out from his tent’s back entrance. Hey, it doesn't hurt to be prepared.
Once he was a ways off, Waylyn lifted the snake to meet his eyes. “You wouldn't hurt any of them, would you?”
The snake flicked out its tongue.
Ah. It's so cool. And cute!
A growling stomach interrupted their moment. “Oh man, I'm hungry! I haven't eaten since I woke up.” A thought occurred to him, and he looked at the snake again. “Are you also hungry?”
—
It turns out that yes, the snake was very hungry. The moment it saw a bird or rabbit, it would shoot off from his arm and return within moments, one meal heavier.
It even caught a few rabbits for him! That's so cool. He ate them over a campfire.
“Are you growing bigger?” He squinted at the length of shadow. “It's hard to tell. Oh well.”
—
Eventually, Waylyn did go back to base. Waylyn glared at his friends suspiciously as he approached, still keeping the snake close to his chest.
“Waylyn,” Whyatt started.
“You can keep the snake.” Waylyn immediately perked up at Wayne's words, shifting into his signature grin, but, “As soon as it seems remotely dangerous, you have to get rid of it, ok?”
Waylyn gritted his teeth. “Fine,” he ground out, knowing that they were wrong about his new friend. They had to be, it was such a good friend to him today! And it tolerated the others, which was more than could be said for them.
He shook his head. He'll show them. Shifting his face into a grin once more, he approached the others. “Alright then, I'll have to introduce you! I'll start with Whyatt!”
Whyatt looked alarmed.
Waylyn rolled his eyes. “Come on, it's not dangerous! Say hi to, uh...” He blinked, looking at the snake. Did the eyes just flash gold? Something echoed in his mind.
“Kese.”
“O-oh. Hello, uh, Kese.” Whyatt wrung his hands, eyes skittering from the snake, to Waylyn, to something off to the side.
“Stop twitching! It's not going to bite. I think.”
The grin on Whyatt's face seemed wider, but no less tense. “You think? That's... reassuring.”
Waylyn shrugged, turning to Wayne with an expectant look. Wayne sighed, resigned, and gave a wave. “Hello, Kese.”
“We’ll work on that,” Waylyn shrugged, before turning to Wenzel.
“Nope nope nope I do not trust that thing. It's only here for as long as it's docile and nope! I am going to gather some logs.”
A sigh escaped Waylyn. It was worth a try. He idly wondered if Wren would have liked Kese. He hasn't seen them in weeks, and they've all accepted that Wren was probably permanently dead.
If you could really die in this world.
—
Things fell into routine. Waylyn would finish his chores in the morning, then go hunt with Kese at dusk to early night, before slipping back to camp and dozing a bit until morning.
Kese was definitely growing larger. It went from spanning one arm to both in a matter weeks. And Waylyn kept seeing flashes of gold in its eyes.
The others still seemed to be wary of Kese, but used to its presence.
But slowly, surely, Waylyn was growing distant to the others. He slipped out earlier, came back later. He avoided talking to them at all. Until he didn't come back all night, trudging back in the morning with shadows in his eyes.
The others noticed, and put more pressure on Waylyn to get rid of it.
“It's driving you insane!”
“Are you going to betray us? Betray me? It's my friend now, you just don't care about my feelings!”
Waylyn started coming back only once every few days.
One day, he returned to camp, exhausted. They did a lot a hunting today, and when was the last time he slept? He didn't know. It didn't matter.
He was out the moment he lay down in his tent.
—
Something niggled at the edge of his mind. Whispers. Quiet footfalls. A pressure on him, and then—
Hissing. His entire system suddenly surged with an odd, icy feeling, and he leapt forward, crashing into Wenzel just as a blade came down to behead his beloved snake.
Waylyn screeched with rage, shoving Wenzel away and into Wayne, making both topple to the ground.
He bent down to scoop up Kese, bleeding smoky shadow, but still alive.
“Waylyn, wait!” Whyatt's voice called out to him. It sounded absolutely wretched. But he didn't care, couldn't care, not after—
“You betrayed me! You all did! You tried to kill my friend!” Waylyn had whirled around to face Whyatt, just far enough that he could make out his face. Guilt. Worry. Waylyn hissed.
“N-no! We were trying to save you! Can't you see what it's doing to you?! We had to, you're losing your mind!”
“No!” Waylyn yelled into the night air, lit by the full moon. His breaths heaved. “No. You just tried to kill my only friend.”
Whyatt's face crumpled. “No, Waylyn, no, no, we're your friends, not that creature! Please! Please... come back...” He had fallen to his knees now.
Waylyn simply bared his teeth. “No.”
And he ran.
Snakes That Bind, Part Two
I’m the type to churn everything out when I have the inspiration. Before it fades, yes? :3c
Words: 975 Part One
Wraith/Wren: Me (though they don’t appear in this part) Waylyn: @unluckiest-black-cat Wenzel ( @the-valiant-valkyrie ), Wayne ( @nightwonder7 ), Whyatt ( @aretmaw )
Waylyn only stopped running once the glow of the full moon was washed away by the light of dawn. He fell to his knees, panting harshly.
“Kese... Kese... you’re my only friend...”
He shifted his grip on the snake, inspecting its wound. A large gash crossed its neck near the head, dripping a shadowy substance that vaporized into black mist moments of being exposed to the air. It hissed weakly.
“I need... I need to do something. What can- what can help you?” He racked his mind for ideas, shoving aside the dull ache in his head.
“Shadows... he’s a shadow! I can- I c-can get some fuel. That might help.” Waylyn laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “They’re nearby, I can feel them. I can just... kill a few! This should be simple enough.”
—
Maybe not so simple. He should have invested in more armor. And a better weapon. He should have taken one of the walking canes, everyone moved weirdly fast with them.
The splinters of his wooden armor dug into his side where the Terrorbeak’s attack pierced through. Crimson stained his clothes underneath.
He’d been killing those Crawling Horrors for a while, gathering the undulating fuel in his numerous pockets, before the Terrorbeak showed up. That was fine!
And then more showed up.
He was probably going to die. The world wobbled at the edge of his vision. His breath pounded in his ears, clashing with the whispers, the whispers he couldn’t understand—
Running away was probably the best course of action here. He sprinted away, towards the clearing he left his backpack and Kese at.
He looked over his shoulder. Everything wavered, and he stumbled for a moment, but he did seem to be gaining distance.
When finally got to his things, he could barely stand. He toppled over, catching his fall with his hands.
Waylyn shifted and pulled the nightmare fuel out of his pockets, his quivering hands dripping spots of darkness everywhere. “Th-this might help, friend.” He dropped the fuel in front of the snake before he couldn’t support himself anymore, and collapsed, eyelids drifting closed.
He saw a flash of gold and heard an aggressive hiss before darkness finally pulled him under.
—
When he came to, it was like being pulled out of a murky darkness, clinging to him as he rose to the surface.
The first thing he felt was the dull headache that never seemed to fade. Then, a dull ache in his side. He groaned and cracked open his eyes, looking down at his body.
What once was armor lay in pieces around him, stained with red and. Black? He lifted his bloodied shirt to check his wound. Dried blood was crusted around it, but more alarming, perhaps, was the black stain that seemed to fill in the wound.
Waylyn poked at at and it gave a painful twinge. Wait, where was-
Whispers echoed in his mind, unintelligible. He whipped his head around to see Kese staring at him, like some sentry.
“Kese?” It was more solid than Wayne had ever seen it. Rather than being translucent shadow like the other shadow creatures, now, it appeared to be solid black, sucking in the nearby light. Except for its eyes, which glowed an eerie yellow.
... w̸̝̟̻̍̄͐̽i̵̜̹̦̫͊̉̏̚l̸͉̽͒̈́l̷͈̥̙͓͇̈͐̀͂ ̸͍͙͌̉̌̄h̴͍̹̲͑̑̓̚͝e̴̬͙̙͇̠͂͆̔̐͘ą̶̮̻͆̆̕͘̕l̷̬̀ ̶̰̹͔͒̿̈́͠͝ẙ̵̩o̷̯̤̫̖̎̄ứ̶̫̻͋͑...
Waylyn blinked, clutching his head. “Mm...”
T̷̡͚͔̎̐̊̅ẖ̷̯̫̆e̷̲̰͎̟̼͊͊y̷̞͖̤͒͘͜͝ ̸̞̝̓w̵͙͗͊͌i̶̧̗͚̗͎̎͆͐l̷̨̲͈̾͋͋l̷̺̭̿̒̈́̕ ̶͔̬͖̉̇̽͑ñ̵͇͙̎͌̆͠o̷͚͇̎̅͘ẗ̸̻̪̖́̾͑̕ ̷͓̠͕̪͑́̽h̸̩̼͔̓̓u̴͕̫͎̺͆̅̔͜r̶̼̲̕ẗ̴̯́͒̀ ̴̧͇͇̈̑̈́͜y̷̟̳̌̕ơ̵̥̰̏̀̔͝u̵̗̼̔ ̶̛͚̝͇̃͂͐ẅ̴̗́̈̃͂̕͜h̴͎̄̏̅͑i̶̛̼͙͑̓̆l̵̯͙̑͛̌̑̿é̷̻̙͔̮͐̎͂ ̶̬̜͆́̃̐ͅỊ̷͚̺̂̄̄ ̷͉̹̭̆͒a̵̛̩̦͓͖͗̾̊m̶͎̈́̓ ̸̛̹͈̪͂̽̇͠h̸̗̔ę̴̪̖̣̰͋ŕ̷̫̱̳̐e̵̢̫̥̳̽̀.
“I... I don’t...”
Kese flicked out its tongue and slithered around Waylyn’s shoulders.
The boy’s wandering mind was interrupted by a sudden growling in his stomach.
“Oh, aha. Let’s find something to eat.”
—
His head pounded. What was sleep? Such an odd concept, aha, no, no, no all he needed was to eat and find shiny things. All he needed was his friend.
He saw the others again, occasionally. They called out to him, for him to wait. He and Kese both hissed at them.
Ý̷͕͔͝ơ̵͉͍ṷ̶͔̑ ̶̫̾͛ḏ̸̇̚ỏ̷̧̱ņ̷̗́̕'̷͉̭́t̷͚̠͒̒ ̶͈̋̌ñ̴̗e̸̬̍̽ȩ̵̺̿̏d̴̮̜́̃ ̴̣̭̕ẗ̵̗̜́̊h̶̞̎e̷͖͛m̴̮̈́̿,̴̬͐ ̴̘̈́W̵̲̔ͅą̸̥͘y̷̨̯̏l̵̼͋y̶̠̓̈n̶̼͑.̵̡͍̌͛
̸̹̔I̵̹̋ ̷̬͝c̵̤͆a̴̢͌n̵̦̅ ̷͍͑m̶̳͂a̷̤͌k̶̲̃é̶̬ ̷̛̫ÿ̸͔́õ̷̧u̴̝͑ ̶̕ͅs̷̙̑ẗ̶͍r̴̳͛o̴̮̔n̸̹̓g̶̘̋e̸̡͊r̵̰̕,̶͖̊ ̷̣̽b̶̪̑e̷̟̚ṱ̶͌ṱ̸͠ē̶̮r̴̝̾.̵̘̅ ̶͈̈́
̸I̸ ̸c̴a̸n̸ ̴m̸a̶k̸e̷ ̴u̶s̶ ̴s̷t̸r̴o̷n̶g̶e̴r̶.̶ ̴
He could hear Kese’s voice clearer and clearer every day. He could almost understand snippets of what it was saying.
Y̷o̴u̷'̶v̷e̸ ̵a̷l̷r̷e̷a̸d̶y̸ ̵a̸b̵s̸o̷r̴b̶e̸d̷ ̶s̴o̵m̷e̸ ̵o̴f̴ ̵t̸h̸e̷ ̷s̴h̷a̴d̷o̶w̷s̶.̸
̶I̴t̸'̶s̴ ̵s̸o̴ ̷e̸a̵s̴y̵.̴.̵.̶
̷T̵r̸u̷s̶t̴ ̴m̵e̶.̶ ̷I̷ ̷w̵o̸n̷'̷t̵ ̵b̷e̵t̸r̷a̸y̸ ̶y̸o̷u̶,̸ ̷n̶o̷t̶ ̷l̸i̵k̷e̷ ̶t̴h̴e̵y̸ ̴d̵i̵d̴.̷
Things came to a head when it became clear that everyone was actively looking for him. More than that, they were still trying to kill Kese.
Wayne tried to approach him from the front, talking to him in what he might have thought was a calming voice.
Waylyn turned around to leave, only to crash into Whyatt, who gripped him by the shoulders tightly, a wide-eyed look on his face.
“Sorry, Waylyn!” That was Wenzel’s voice. Something hit the back of his neck, dazing him but not knocking him out.
Then, darkness clouded his vision. Not that of unconsciousness. Shadows.
A yelp of pain cut through the haze. Hissing, yelling.
Blood before his eyes. Bodies, life fading from them. Ghosts lifting, vanishing as they are pulled away by their effigies.
I can make us powerful.
Together, we won’t need anything else.
Waylyn blinked, focusing on piercing yellow eyes.
Trust me.
“Who else would I trust?” He croaked.
Pain. Pain, pain pain there was nothing else. Red stains everywhere. He couldn’t see, or was that just the tears in his eyes? He couldn’t hear, or was that just the screaming in his ears? Where was- where was his arm? It wasn’t there. It was there and then it wasn’t where was it what was happening—
Black and red and piercing yellow. Open jaws, dripping. Shadows, reaching out to him. Twisting, changing, filling his veins with the ice of void.
Darkness, coalescing into an arm, a hand, fingers—
He passed out.
—
We are as one, friend.
Snakes That Bind, Part Four
The end.
Words: 1231 Part One | Two | Three
Wraith/Wren: Me Waylyn: @unluckiest-black-cat
W̶͖̻͉̒̏͗h̸̯̲̹̜͕̗͔͗͋̽͆ͅe̷̘̝͕̪͈̤͂̅̒͜ͅr̶̛̞͚̰̙̤̈́͑͌͜ḙ̸̡͔̜̩̙̈́͒͐ ̷̨̜̹̣̘͎̱͇̜̑̌͑̅̒̎̍a̴̮̲͗ṛ̴̝̳̖̯̩̳̤̻̐͗̿̆̍e̵̡̢̼̟͓̯͇̱͆̈͘͝͠͝ ̷̠͓͔̠̎̀̈́͑͌̅́͝͠t̸̹̠͎̅̆̚h̷̡̦̞̬̥̱̩̀̆̇͛̅͠ȩ̶̧̯̼̊̐͑̚y̸̢̢̧̖̟̯̫̳̋̾̈͒̈́͘?̸̧͖̝͕͐̒̉ ̸͓̞́͗C̷̜͖̲͔͉̼͚̾͒͌̈́̓̃̏̚͘͝ö̶̢̢̙͔̰̱̦̙̗̈́̈́̏̍̓̚͘͠͝m̴̢̙̜͖͂͂̋̈̆̚͝ͅę̶̫̫̺͈̱̄͊̂̒̆͋͑͛͝ ̷̧͓̱̲̦͇̲̝̈́̚ć̷̯̜̞͍́̓͌l̴͚͇̝͈͎͊͜o̷̠̦͈̼̫̻̅͜ş̷̯̲̲̈́̍̀ę̵̧̢̧̺͗̍͜ͅr̸̡̹̘̫͙̪͖̰̓͋́̈̅͐͘.̷̰̥͇̐͛̅̀̓̈́̕͠͝ ̴̛̗̩̫̯̠̲͈̹̠͚̍̈́̈́̾̈́̌̏͆C̷̣͋͋̿̈́͐̿͘͝͝o̴͎̓͌͆͋̾̄͗̀͌͝m̸̢̨͍̫̩̯̱̣̐ȩ̵͖͕̻̜̫̲͛̍͋͝ ̸͉̳͎̘͈̗͓̿͆͘t̶̠̝̄̄͆̅̀̍́̓̒͝ö̵̢̢̡͚̜̣̗́̽͑̂̔̽͘ ̴̙̟̿̇͑̂͂̊̎̕͠t̸̳͓̠̪͔̺̯̆͆͗͛̔̐̀̄̕h̷̨̤͉͚̼̓͗́́̚͘͠e̸̩̺̯̗̼͎͂̀́̈́́̽ ̵̧̨̜̮̫̻̗͚̕d̶̡̤̱̦̹͖̈́̇̓̾̉͋͗̿͘ã̶̧̘̺͕̲̝͈͍͖̂̌̏͝ͅŕ̷̨̬̤̘̱̯͇̤k̷̪̈̄̀̏̈́̇͛͋̍̈ǹ̵̩̯̖̥̦̭̭̫̑̈́e̷̝̜̘̼̩͓͎̅̆̓͊̐̏͘ͅṣ̶̛͙̗̗̤͕̓̔͐̈́̆͛͌̕͠s̶̨̱̖̯͖͉̘̳͊͛͛̀̏̀͋͛,̷̣̙̂̄̍̇̆̽͠͝ ̵̲̥̘͓̾̆͛̀̍͊̑̔͝͝w̴̫̻͂͛̂̏̌́͂̂̓̚ͅh̷̬̖̾͋͌͑͝ĕ̵͈̪͕̗̰̱̉͒͊̎̑̕͠r̷̨͔̹̰͓͚̣̤̓̔̽͐̕͝e̴̤͙̘̭̿͛͂͆͑͐̀̌̚̕ ̸̛̯̦̩̭̗̼͔̈́͆̎̽͋́̏͝͝w̶͉̩̰̞͉̄̈́́̈́̓̿͛̾̀ͅe̵̮͎̺̦̪̰͕̍͂̉̿̈́ͅ ̵̜̤̝̖̩̅͌͋̅̋̔̆̏̓̉c̴̼̹͎̱̮̱̬͛͆͋̀̍̄́͐̂̚ả̴̜͓̫̫̣̟̳̺̪̾̉͒͐͗̎́n̵̝̑̉̿̏̆̃̚͝ ̷̛͈̳̼̰́̃͂̉̓͒̎͜ķ̴̻̙͇͈͚͖̿̋̀͑͜͝í̵̦͝l̴̨͇̠̀͗͊͊̓́͐͜͝͠l̸̺͇͎̃̈́ ̵̡̨͇͗̌y̵̧̋̇̇̈́̿̆̋͝o̶͚̞̞̐͋̈́̄̚͝u̵̫͝.̷̬͔̭͇̞͂͜
What was that?
W—-! Oh, god, what’s happening? The Night hasn’t attacked us this fiercely in ages!
Screams, terror.
Hissing. Anger. But more than that, blood. More, more, m o r e Everywhere, spilling upon the ground. Staining. Again and again and again and again—
Waylyn?
A shadow standing before him. Blood on their face. An uncontrollable smile, uncontrollable laughter. Oh, oh , oh, it’s what you wanted. What I wanted. What we all wanted. In a way. In a way.
Reaching out to them, eyes a mirror of theirs. Come with me.
Our wish will be granted.
Waylyn blinked his eyes open. Wait, were they open before? His head pounded and he brought his right hand to his face.
“Ugh...”
He brought his hand down, staring at its black mass. “Kese... What happened?”
Gleeful whispers bounded across his mind, images, flashes. He clutched his head. “Ok, ok, that’s not happening.”
The visions abated, and he uncurled to look around. He was in the Palace. Wraith’s palace. But Wraith was nowhere to be seen.
He wandered the halls aimlessly, the cool marble and black carpets extending on into the haze of darkness.
He felt a pull—
He stood before a portal of flickering black flames, just like those Wraith liked to use. Only, it was framed by sleek, polished stone, a golden eye seeming to peer down at him from the top of the frame.
When did he get here? Where was he? He’s never been to this part of the palace.
Has he?
He used his shadowed arm to reach for the flames. They passed harmlessly around it, and Waylyn stepped forward.
The change was immediate. He could feel it with his soul. The air thrummed with power, clinging to him as he walked forward into the darkness.
It won’t hurt me. Because I am... He shook his head.
As soon as he stepped out of the circle of the portal’s light, a silvery liquid flowed through trenches of polished stone on a path leading into further darkness. It gave the room a soft, silvery glow.
Waylyn continued walking forward, the power growing thicker, heavier, until—
Wraith stood in the center of an clearing, eyes closed, arms held loosely at waist-level. Once the silver surrounded the edges of the area, Wraith opened their eyes and shifted them to Waylyn.
The thrumming stopped.
“Oh? Waylyn, you’re...?” Wraith blinked, and gave a smile that almost seemed melancholy. “Ah, you found me.”
They closed their eyes and vanished into flames. Instead of the flames disappearing as usual, however, they seemed to be sucked away by some source still in the darkness.
He could do nothing but follow, the silver trailing beside him.
A light in the distance grew closer and closer, before he finally stood before its origin. It seemed to come from above, illuminating a central subject.
A figure strapped to a throne of darkness, head bowed, hair bound in a ponytail trailing down their shoulders. Wrists and legs bound, trailing blood that has dried long, long ago.
A sharp intake of breath. “... Wren? Is that you?”
The figure twitched a moment, as if remembering how to move. They lifted their head, locking their gaze with Waylyn. Blue as he remembered them, yet— when the light shifted, they glinted gold.
“Wren is... no more. I am but a shadow. A ghost. A Wraith. But a Wraith with the power to do anything I wish.” Their gaze shifted to their bonds.
“I can’t bring myself to regret it. How can I, when they grant my heart’s deepest desires? How can I, when I, We can do the same for others. Even if it’s not what they expect. It’s what they wanted, isn’t it?” A soft sigh escapes them, and the close their eyes. “I think differently, out there. In my construct. Then, I am truly the master of shadows. Here, I am the remnants of a burdened past.
“With only myself as company.”
“No,” Waylyn blurts. Wren blinks, surprised. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Wren laughs weakly. “Well. Well, you’ve been here for a while now.”
“Wh-what?”
“You haven’t been quite yourself for months.” Wren tried to reach a hand out, bonds tightening and drawing fresh trails of blood. Did they even feel it anymore? “Sorry, Waylyn. I was close to you back then, and I wanted to be close again. You... you did, as well. A friend.”
Wren sinks, lowering their hand. “And that greater closeness could there be than the bond between the Lord of Shadows and the Monster of Night? Tying our souls together with bonds of darkness. ”
Waylyn’s breath echoed in his ears. He found himself walking closer, closer, until he lightly grabbed the hand that had drifted lower.
Wren looked at it like some strange animal. “Waylyn?”
He stared at their hands like he could burn a hole through them. Wren’s, black glove torn to shreds around the wrist, crusted with blood. His own, a smooth darkness. Kese, the connection between them.
Not like when he hunted, when everything became sharper.
He closed his eyes and grounded himself with a few breaths before looking Wren straight in the eye. “You were like an older sibling to me. More than friend. Someone to laugh with. Argue with. Agree and disagree. Someone to have your back.
“You were there for me then, and. And you’re still here. Different. Maybe. Things have changed. But it’s fine. I’m here.”
“My wish brought you here. Changed you.”
Waylyn squeezed their hand. “It was my wish, too.”
And Wren lightly squeezed back, leaning forward in the likeness of an embrace, in spite of their bound limbs.
“So be it.”
Everything snapped to darkness.
—
Every time he came to his senses, he would be wandering the palace. Sometimes, Wraith would be with them, and they would find someplace to sit and talk until darkness shuttered over his mind, again. Other times, the palace would be empty, and Waylyn would continue to wander or seek out the portal to talk with Wren.
Every time, he would feel a pull before emptiness descended. And he could recall flashes. Burning urges to kill any soul he could reach. Being everywhere, and nowhere. Striking from within, without. Moving in tandem with the snake bound so thoroughly that they might as well be a single being.
It all slipped away from him whenever he tried to grasp at it, though. It didn’t matter. He didn’t know how long...
Only Wraith and Kese mattered. They were all he needed.
(That was good, since they were all he had now. That and the flashes of blood and death and rage and glee and-)
Wraith seemed to look at him with a sort of softness around their razor-sharp presence, and sometimes a bit of sadness when it seemed he was gone for longer.
(And sometimes with a twisted grin of sharp, sharp teeth, cackling as the splatters of his victim dyed the night red.)
Tell me...
What do you desire?
You can wish for anything.
Anything your heart desires. But do you truly know what you want?
Of course. A friend of the soul. One whom I can understand. One who will understand me. One to remain side by side with, to the end of eternity.
—
Notes from me: To everyone that read this to the end, thank you! I hope you enjoyed it. Character interactions give me life and I live and breathe familial closeness. I also have a thing for blood and darkness, so. Yeah.
I wanted to explore Wraith’s origin and personality, and settled on a being that grants wishes in the best worst way. Your desires fulfilled, but at what cost? Just enough so that you won’t take it back.
My headcanon is that each portal and each throne room is a bit... customized. Also, there’s another “throne room” that can appear in the palace for show - that one’s for Wraith. But the true throne room will always be a place of the bound soul.