12-04-2022, 10:16 PM
He watched them as their attentions shifted to the concern of Raffe’s pale face.
“You came to my home and accused me of manipulation, theft, and murder, only to claim you did not mean it,” he said to Cruz. Intention mattered little when such accusations were thrown about so carelessly, though somehow he doubted the capability for self-reflection. Words ought to matter more to someone who strode such lofty circles. Decadent pride and the folly of youth. Next time Cruz might so blithley end up offending the wrong person. A painful lesson to learn, probably. Or maybe it would be. Such decisions were the things of a careless moment, for Ekeziel.
After a moment he laughed a little. “Well okay, then. What a funny little apology.” A hand waved the whole thing away, but if he smiled it did not reach his eyes, and his expression remained sobre after. Benefit of the doubt was a poor inheritance.
Raffe protested, as he always did, even as time fell like grains of sand all around his head. He was sure the man could feel it slipping away. There was little Ezekiel appreciated more than the mantle of saviour, but usually the moment was only sweetest when all but the last flakes fell, so he let Raffe’s friends fawn. His lips flickered a smile, but it was Cruz he returned to.
“I’ll tell you why I think you came. Because you were curious. Excited, maybe. Everything you have has been handed to you, through no fault of your own – after all, who of us controls the manner of our birth? – and you wanted something that was yours alone.” He did not pause for affirmation or denial, perhaps because he did not care. Though he imagined it struck at something true, even if the man only reacted with another grim temper tantrum, or straight up dismissal. Ekeziel did not state it as an accusation, nor as a derogatory condemnation. The words were plain and simple. A truth as he saw it.
“But you took one look around you, and decided I have nothing to offer you. You burned the opportunity to dust.” Though he had not appeared to retrieve it from his pocket, the coin slipped bright between his fingers once more. Only this time, with a pull on the power, it hovered and twisted above his palm, and burned to ash.
“Go home, Cruz,” he said. “Go back to your suffocating life. And hope that next time opportunity knocks upon your door, you are not so quick to dismiss it.”
He would be back. If not, Ezekiel would ensure it.
“You came to my home and accused me of manipulation, theft, and murder, only to claim you did not mean it,” he said to Cruz. Intention mattered little when such accusations were thrown about so carelessly, though somehow he doubted the capability for self-reflection. Words ought to matter more to someone who strode such lofty circles. Decadent pride and the folly of youth. Next time Cruz might so blithley end up offending the wrong person. A painful lesson to learn, probably. Or maybe it would be. Such decisions were the things of a careless moment, for Ekeziel.
After a moment he laughed a little. “Well okay, then. What a funny little apology.” A hand waved the whole thing away, but if he smiled it did not reach his eyes, and his expression remained sobre after. Benefit of the doubt was a poor inheritance.
Raffe protested, as he always did, even as time fell like grains of sand all around his head. He was sure the man could feel it slipping away. There was little Ezekiel appreciated more than the mantle of saviour, but usually the moment was only sweetest when all but the last flakes fell, so he let Raffe’s friends fawn. His lips flickered a smile, but it was Cruz he returned to.
“I’ll tell you why I think you came. Because you were curious. Excited, maybe. Everything you have has been handed to you, through no fault of your own – after all, who of us controls the manner of our birth? – and you wanted something that was yours alone.” He did not pause for affirmation or denial, perhaps because he did not care. Though he imagined it struck at something true, even if the man only reacted with another grim temper tantrum, or straight up dismissal. Ekeziel did not state it as an accusation, nor as a derogatory condemnation. The words were plain and simple. A truth as he saw it.
“But you took one look around you, and decided I have nothing to offer you. You burned the opportunity to dust.” Though he had not appeared to retrieve it from his pocket, the coin slipped bright between his fingers once more. Only this time, with a pull on the power, it hovered and twisted above his palm, and burned to ash.
“Go home, Cruz,” he said. “Go back to your suffocating life. And hope that next time opportunity knocks upon your door, you are not so quick to dismiss it.”
He would be back. If not, Ezekiel would ensure it.
![[Image: zekesig2-1.jpg]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/12/zekesig2-1.jpg)