Chaos is God in a system of true disorder. And I seek to my title of God, I have no care for whoever crumples to nothing in my persuit to achieve such.
The catatonic idealisation of one's reflection is no longer beheld as solipsistic but self-respecting. Then what is the disparity between self-reverence and vain when you cannot pardon those around you? -Palace of Ulric labyrinths, Elvira Crest.
|Than-July 19, 7425| |Than Palace|
THE SCENT OF foliage lingered in the air in a warm armistice, trees gliding over the heads of the many insects and spurting plant lives as the daylight above the garden throbbed to life.
"Oh, I'm not sure this is such a good idea, my love," a man's voice spoke tenderly. He watched the woman sprawled across his lap with a plenitude of fondness, the curling way in which her brown hair sat like soft petals across her skin. "How can you trust them? It's my life we're talking about, my dear. Our future."
The woman below him shifted in his lap so that now she looked up at him, green dousing into the castles of Sevgi. "I trust them, Levion, I really do. Sometimes I...I'm afraid I trust them more than I trust myself."
"Esm-"
"Please, my honey," she cut him off, sitting up so that they were now face to face, so intimate that she could feel his shuddered exhale prematurely kiss her lips. "I owe them my life. And if it weren't for them, I would not be here with you right now, would I?"
His hands found the sides of her face and with a small peck, he let her face fall from the security of his palms as she laid back down, gazing at the chasm of wilderness surrounding them.
He could not argue with her there.
"Emse, my love," Levion started again, caressing the cheek that faced him. "Are you sure you want to go through with all of this?"
He could see an eyebrow quirk from his position above her. "I'm sure."
"Maybe we should reconsider, my love," he swallowed, watching only her as the garden around him blurred. He could only see her. His Esme. "Do you really want to throw away your life, Esme?"
At his words, she bolted up as if he had torched her, eyeing him with copiously insulted eyes. "Throw away my life?" There was a miniature strain to her voice as she spoke. "Is that what you call my love for you, Levion?" No, he wanted to say, never, but all he could retaliate was a spluttered mix of her name and the word please. "Me throwing away my life?"
