chaele
worship like a dog
The pieces of funnel cake move in an idle rhythm from plate to mouth, each bite too little to satisfy the craving it inspires. The mask is tipped absently upward to accommodate, unveiling mangled lips in the shape of mild amusement. They falter faintly in response to his declared allegiance, lacking the habit of affectation. Chaele’s head tilts downward to get a better view of his expression, dark eyes meeting those soldierly blues.
“Because they answered you?” The Abandoned guesses, and not without a touch of genetic bitterness. Perhaps Chaele would have similar fealties, if they had been given such power as Deimos’s, but neither had they suffered from the same desperation and devotion that might have earned it. Hand pausing in its incessant feeding, it occurs to them that he had once confessed to gaining strength in the name of loved ones and their protection.
Chaele will claim to feel protective of the wilds themselves, of the wide open spaces that had escaped the tyranny of settlement and obligation. But they do not know what it is to truly defend, to know the faces of the weary and the diligent and swear to keep them from harm. They reach slowly for another fragment of the dwindling dessert, a failed attempt at nonchalance. “Do you owe them a debt?”
“Because they answered you?” The Abandoned guesses, and not without a touch of genetic bitterness. Perhaps Chaele would have similar fealties, if they had been given such power as Deimos’s, but neither had they suffered from the same desperation and devotion that might have earned it. Hand pausing in its incessant feeding, it occurs to them that he had once confessed to gaining strength in the name of loved ones and their protection.
Chaele will claim to feel protective of the wilds themselves, of the wide open spaces that had escaped the tyranny of settlement and obligation. But they do not know what it is to truly defend, to know the faces of the weary and the diligent and swear to keep them from harm. They reach slowly for another fragment of the dwindling dessert, a failed attempt at nonchalance. “Do you owe them a debt?”
at the shrine of my lies
