Playlist/Bingo: Vox

He read their past, spun as fantasy and published for children. Part of him wanted to hold it against Bea, but he’d been closer to her than the others and would forgive her almost anything. It wasn’t like there was a danger, not really, in her sharing the story. It just… hurt.

All they had done and all they had lost, spread across the pages. All he had lost.

He’d come to accept it, adapting to the dread in his secret heart the same way he adapted to the legs he could no longer feel. But seeing it there on the pages, written like they’d been chosen ones on a righteous quest they’d won, well, it brought back his awareness of both.

They hadn’t been chosen. This he believed more than he believed any of it had been real. It had been an accident, chance, as unplanned and unexpected as finding the stallion in the lake and setting him free. Something perfect and wonderful, but nothing anyone had seen coming.

He had to believe that. Because if they had foreseen everything else, they would have foreseen the end. If they had — and hadn’t warned them — he would have to hate them all. That would make losing them all the worse.

So he simply refused to believe in prophecy.



by | Oct 24, 2013