❝this tree was grown with rotted roots.❞
Nerluce is Darkest Shadow. He is that great and terrible entity, prophesied over a thousand years before, more like a hurricane than a man. His hair falls crooked, poorly cut by his family's blade. His finger...
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After what had, frankly, been a humiliating day, Aristide made his way to the stables.
The disciples there welcomed him with bows and proper greetings. Aristide nodded back in acknowledgment but did not slow his stride. One of the few things about being an Elder Priest that Aristide actually liked was that he now had the right to ignore people. Aristide had ignored people before, of course, but it had been considered rude.
Beneath his sleeves, Aristide's fingers curled. There was only one place in the whole world that he could go to when he needed an escape. One place he knew that no one would dare bother him. A place he'd been coming to for years.
Lilith stood as he entered her stall, coming over and sniffing him. Aristide ran a hand along her neck. A regular horse would have been much larger than Aristide, but Lilith was a Greater Mare and so even the act of stroking her was something Aristide almost had to stand on his toes in order to do.
Being around Lilith reminded Aristide of how small he was. He usually hated it but... in Lilith's stall, where no one dared come near given the infamously bitchy temperament of the Greater Mare, Aristide let himself feel small. He let himself feel so small and so insignificant and... it lifted a weight from his chest.
In Lilith's stall, Aristide didn't matter. Outside of Lilith's stall, he didn't matter either, but it was only inside the stall that Aristide would admit it to himself. Why would he matter? He lived in the same world as people like Chosen Light and Darkest Shadow. Wasn't everyone insignificant compared to them? There was no prophecy detailing the Angel of Death or the Wolf Woman. They were all just... dust.
It felt good.
Lilith lowered her head, wrapping it around Aristide's shoulder. It felt like a hug. It might've been one. The limits on Greater Horses' intelligence were largely unknown. It was possible that Lilith had seen people hug, had realized it was a gesture of comfort and had now sought to imitate it. Or she could just be looking for food in Aristide's robes.
Whichever it was, Aristide let Lilith wrap her head around his frame, and, gods, her head was half the size of Aristide's entire body, let himself be comforted by a horse. He comforted her in turn, petting her gently.
Lilith had only ever let two people ride her. The first of which was the Horse Prince of Tilica, Makai. He was her former owner. Aristide's fingers clenched in Lilith's mane this time. To own any creature was a vile act. Anytime someone implied that Aristide owned Lilith, he had them quickly corrected. Lilith belonged to herself. Aristide would never take that away from her. And when she outgrew the stables or him, Aristide would part with her.
Lilith had let Makai ride her out of fear and domination. Lilith let Aristide ride her out of understanding and trust. They were two creatures who understood one another instinctually. Aristide was certain that there was no one who understood him better than Lilith. A smile crept onto his lips as he laughed, muffled into Lilith's neck.
