chronicleking - Tumblr blog

[chronicleking]

「 @universestreasures​ | Kisara」 issued a challenge:

Her wings and tail were in full view as Kisara gazed upon him, for she had no need to hide her true self before him when they were here. She pats the white fabric of her gown on her lap, an invitation for Seto to join her and relax in her lap. The dragoness could see something hidden in his radiant blue eyes, something that singled a deep concern. "Tell me what ails you, my dearest." (From Kisara, Nobles UwU.)

He doesn't relax, even as she comes into his full view. His shoulders remain squared and his gaze remains one carved from ice. A harsh expression to most who found themselves exposed to it, but to Kisara... she always managed to see past his frigid exterior-- Treating the glass surrounding his heart as if it were more akin to that of a window than the mirror he viewed it as.

--An opaque mirror which reflects that of the world around it, the beauty and misery of it all, and keeps it out. Or a crystalline window which allows the light to pass through it to combat the darkness sealed within.

Either way; the glass cracked before Kisara's silvery-toned voice.

It was a dangerous weapon. One that only the maiden could wield. One that could destroy him at any moment should she so choose.

He stops in his tracks the moment she spoke, as if he dares not to overshadow the tune with the echoing of footfalls. A few seconds pass before Seto responds in kind-- only after the lingering vibrations in the air settle completely.

❝ Shouldn't you know by now? I don't bring my business back into your bedroom. ❞

The words he speaks are cold in nature, but the voice that delivered them told a slightly different tale. To the untrained ear it was easy to miss, but for those close to him they knew it was Seto's way of acknowledging concerns without completely invalidating them through blunt rejection.

He just... rather not talk about it right now. Not when Kisara's inviting gesture drew him in so.

...It's not information he rather her be privy to either. Considering the weight of what's just been thrown upon him. But he can't just hope for her to drop the matter so easily. Had it been anyone else he would have had just told her to forget it and let him be.

❝ ...Those old geezers, ❞ Mentioning them at all should spell out his troubles. The elders have been nothing but troublesome since the moment Seto's memories burdened him. Not only do they cause him to struggle at every turn with his rise to power, now they're trying to use him as a bargaining chip! HIM! If they think they can do such a thing without retaliation on his side then they were sorely wrong. ❝ I'm going to change the way things are run around here, I swear it-- ❞

The coat hanging off his shoulders slips off with ease, the lustrous fabric flowing into rippled piles on the white tiled floors. It was if a waterfall had just run dry-- beautiful as it's last drop fell before then revealing all the uglied jagged dangers that lay beneath it's surface. Seto was much the same. All the bright whites of the surface of his world couldn't begin to bring light to the darkest parts of himself.

At least, That was what he once thought. That was until he had met Kisara, who's light threatened to obliterate him completely if he wasn't careful when basking in it.

When he lowers to his knees before her it's with great care despite how his body argued with him to simply accept her and trust the weight of it all to her; his troubles as well as himself. Instead he first places his hand atop her own, welcoming the warmth of her skin that came at a great contrast given how cold to the touch she appeared to be.

A beauty, carved of marble and ice.

How part of him wished to preserve her seemingly delicate nature, despite knowing very well how wrong that perception of her was. The other part of him knew better than anyone-- That she was not as fragile as this form would lead most to believe. But knowing that wasn't enough for Seto.

It didn't matter if he could believe in Kisara's power. It didn't matter if he could trust in her or Mokuba to protect themselves. With the way things were now none of that mattered. It was only a matter of time before something outside his control would happen again-- And with the recent announcement of his arrangement resounding inside his head and heart it was becoming clear. Now more than ever.

He couldn't sit around and wait any longer, he had to start pushing back against these ridiculous traditions. He wasn't going to remain a pawn on someone else's playing board forever. He was going to become a king-- The King of Kings of this land and do more than return it to it's former glory. He was going to usher in an entirely new age; one where Kisara could once again spread her wings outside the walls he had built around her. As his eye finally locks his gaze with her own his mumbling rant changes into something full of resolve.

❝ --I swear it. On my very life. ❞

It's only then that he seems to relax all at once. As if an incredible weight was finally withdrawn from his shoulders as he finally accepts Kisara's invitation to lower his head down onto her lap. But even this seemed more like a deep bow-- a sealing of a promise-- than anything. -

[chronicleking]

I physically cannot stop drawing them

[chronicleking]

.//tags

[chronicleking]

Test

Test

Test

Test / test / test / test / test Test / test / test / test / test

Test

Test