❪𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 ❫ ━ "On the occasion when the sun would set to sleep, and the moon light would sing to life, periwinkle lips sweetly brush along the jagged thorns of a rosebush. Unafraid of the crimson pooling between torn flesh, for offering...
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Chapter 1
A child weaned on poison
considers harm a comfort - Gillian Flynn
Heaving shivers racked violently through Regulus' muscles, his hands trembling as the frost in the air bit at the tips of his bloodless fingers. His tongue lead in his mouth. Regulus was always aware, even as a boy, that his fate was to die cold. He knew not how, a seers ability only went so far and it went against Lady's Magics word to foretell the specifics of one's own death. However it didn't go against such words to simply define it. He couldn't control what he'd dream after all, so yes Regulus Black knew he'd die freezing probably entirely forgotten, the latter only an honest astute guess.
Now— he was absolutely aware that any other person under this circumstance would at least try to prevent their own demise in some entirely pointless way. Nevertheless Regulus wasn't 'any other person' he was a Black. Nothing defined him not even logic was able to. The crimson of his blood surpassed anything and everything shackled to the bounds of this earth. He was of seers blood. He was the bearer of knowledge, he could foretell and understand concepts that the human mind should not be able to even perceive. He knew all. The past, the present, the future. Nothing was able to escape to his scrutiny.
So no, even dealt with the cards of what was to come to pass if Regulus did die cold and utterly devoid of all forms of human heat. He'd let Deaths cadaverous fingers grasp at the flesh of his arms as his blood turned to ice.
Call it giving up he did not care, say that he was leaving his family's house in ruins from the bottom upwards, tell him he was taking the cowards way out he couldn't care. The task he'd set out to complete today would have to be done, if he did not pave the path for the hero that bared emerald jewels and held lighting he knew Britains Wizarding World would decline and slowly diminish the consequences of Riddles foolish ideology's.
Do not doubt this, he had devoted all the hours of his day try to find an alternative but it all lead him back here. It lead him back to gagging down a potion that would have the head of a mighty house brung to their knees in rotten agony. Hallucinations sneering down at him, the cruelest words like knives to his his bleeding heart. It lead him back to jagged rocks digging into the curves of his waist and piercing into his spine all while he was dragged without mercy along the filth and wet of the caves floor.
Spindly hands belonging to that of corpses, burrowed into the indents of his ankles harshly tugging and pulling and tearing him down to the bottom of a lake, that sat in the belly of a cursed cave. It lead him to abosolute derlirum as he clawed and kicked the wretched beings that sort to sunder the bones of his body. Submerged wholly into frigid water, his lungs contracting around the pools of water he'd chocked down, the result of his body frantically attempted to gasp in the slightest taste of oxygen.
Begging for the mercy of Hecate, begging for the mercy of his families ancestors for they were no doubt spitting at him. Praying for the love of his maman one last time.
