Lost Potential

Bastien That old celestial circus With teeth and fingernails I'll carve a place, you'll see. "There is...?" Bastien asked, the hope in his voice palpable as he drank in the feeling of Safrin's affection once again, the feeling of her hands on his skin reminding him why he'd begun his church in the first place. She was radiant, beautiful...he was ready in that second to promise to her anything within his power and several things out of it that he would work out later. But then she confused him. Make it all stop...? Before he could question, object, she was gone. At first he thought she had done nothing at all, that this was some kind of strange trick. Then he noticed the shaking of his hands, the ache in his back. Slowly Bastien raised his arms and what he saw made him widen eyes that suddenly could not see as well. His hands were worn, wrinkled and attached to arms with veins and loose skin. Further inspection revealed a elderly body all over and when he looked in a pot of water by the shrine - not his face. God, no, not my face he thought, but it was too late. Desperate to hide and work a way around this he scattered away from the shrine, his now rickety legs carrying him slowly and unsteadily behind a pillar to poke at himself and investigate the curse.