Pull Their Wings Off, One by One

silentlikethat's picture


They say you haunt the Ruins. A ghost with a physical body, a demon laced to mortality with a beating heart. Unable to leave from your cold throne. They whisper as they walk by, their annoying words like that of the flies where you sit. Buzzing in my ears, leaving marks as they land and bite my thoughts.
Demons. Are you so different, M'lord? They say you hold a trap, have left a opening for me to fall in. They say you smile like a crocodile, death in your teeth and curses rolling out as your breath. I see only a lonely demon. Must all demons be alone? Are they so different then us? I hear of deer whom have fallen from the heavens, some spit from the fires of hell, others who lived lives before this Forest.

I ask, are you really a danger?

Why do they fear something I cannot see? My friends fear for me when I'm near you. Since I ever sat near you, some come with young foolish pride int heir hearts, challenging you, when all you've done is sit. Who are they to assume they are the rightful deers to live here? What if they are in fact, the ones not in their right place? How are we to live together, if everyone is bearing antlers to one another? Can we not give chances fr once? Why must we chose between whom we sit, others fearing for us, when others beg for us to come near, desperate for some companionship and understanding.
So quick to judge, so slow to realize...

What am I to tell them when they ask me of you?



Scythe's picture

(I really did enjoy reading

(I really did enjoy reading this, and I am sorry that I took so long to say so. Thank you for taking the time to address Osias, too. I do not believe that anyone has ever written to him before, and so beautifully at that. You write really well, and you deserve far more credit than you have been given.)

The creature listened, age old ears taking in every word of her. After all, Osias was a creature that listened to the pleas of the world, however small or insignificant, however dangerous or demanding. He simply dealt with them accordingly.

The sight of the small red doe before him, however, was curious. It was rare for one so small to address him so openly. Osias cleared his throat, something rumbling deep within the chambers of his chest, before he turned his head to the heavens. His great red antlers cast a shadow over his company.

"Am I really a danger? No. There are those that fear what they do not understand, what they cannot grasp, get their hands around and subdue into something that is small and simple, yes. I remain here, waiting so often for questions that do not come. So often so many would rather rely upon rumors of demons and dealings with them." Osias' eyes fell upon Jettem, a flicker of light on the black onyx of them. "You have been wronged, my little doe. You see, rumors? Are nothing more than buzzing insects, yes. They fly on fabricated wings, carried further by words on the wind. You, too, have been harmed by rumors, haven't you?" He frowned thoughtfully behind that mask of his, crocodile tear teeth laced together endlessly. "I will not lie to you, Jettem. There are no traps, no pitfalls. I will listen to you, even when no one else does."

"What are you to tell them when they ask of me? Tell them of my name, of my pets, of my promises. Trust in me and no one can do you wrong." There was a clitter clatter of teeth upon teeth behind that mask so perfectly laced with a grin of its own. That smile would be whatever she needed it to be.