Brought to his knees before the kingdom after ten years of hiding, Kyros believed that he would be sentenced to death for the murder of his pack. His sentence would mean the end of it all - his torment, his abuse, his turmoil.
But his destiny change...
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"Why did my soldiers find you washed up on the shore the day they captured you?"
The sky was sprayed in splotchy colors of gray. Rain dripped from the dark depths of the clouds painted in bruised shades, and the atmosphere was wrapped in a harsh, chilly wind. The kind of wind that mimics the stillness and coldness of death. The kind of wind that burns the skin.
Seagulls cried out among the thrashing of the waves that curled and lapsed against the rocky shores. Shores were embroidered with stones of all shapes and sizes. Shores that bore the tiny grains of sand which once were large rocks and boulders but had been worn down by the ticking of a clock and the waves which assaulted them.
One breath and Kyros felt like he had plummeted back into that day. He could still faintly hear the questioning voice of Asheria, but he was lost.
He opened his eyes.
Still, images from that day flooded into his vision.
How he had felt so exhausted. So hopeless. So worthless and worn down. He had been mentally and physically sick with guilt. He had been in pain. So much pain. None of which was physical.
And that day, like many times before, he had tried to be his judge, his jury, and his executioner.
The ocean had looked so far down when Kyros stared down the cliff he stood atop of. He could taste the sea salt on his tongue, or was that his tears? Perhaps it was both, he hadn't known for sure.
So he jumped.
So he had jumped and collided with the bitterly cold ocean waters below. The pain of the collision shattered his being. The water felt like the solid ground which gave way as he soared into the dark depths of the raging ocean.
"Kyros?"
He had always wanted to die at that point, but to look death in the face as his lungs constricted as he suffocated in the water had been terrifying and agonizing. His chest had felt like it was cramping and twisting. Burning and turning into withered ash.
But the ocean tossed him to the surface.
He shook his head and took a deep breath. His flashback had ceased. "I knew I was being tracked that day."
"You knew?"
"I didn't want to live anymore. The loathsomeness towards myself that I felt was deep."
Asheria couldn't fathom what it would've been like for Kyros. To be driven to the point of wishing for death. Fearing death was something that understandably came naturally to many, it was obvious because most people spent time running away from death, not chasing it.
They worked to prolong their life. Not end it.
Life itself was wired to survive. Nature echoed this testimony. Those that bore a heartbeat were equipped with bodily systems that tell them to fight or flee in the face of danger. Some have camouflaged feathers or fur, so that they may hide in their environments by means of hunting or evading. Beneath their skin, muscle covers their skeletal system to support the decision to fight or flee even further. Their bodily systems fuel their drive to reproduce and survive.
