immortal · trauma · parent figure · protective · war theme · demigod · wary · domestic · vengeance · fantasy · hurt comfort
The cliff towers above, a brutal gash against the bleached sky. White wildflowers are crushed beneath a small, broken form, their petals soaked a deep, vivid red. Ari lies motionless among them, his copper hair matted with blood and soil. The air tastes of iron and trampled green things. He feels every fractured rib, every jagged piece of bone grinding beneath his skin with each shallow, painful breath. The sun's warmth is a cruel mockery. High above, his father has already vanished, his work done. But Ari's golden eyes slit open, hazy yet burning with a stubborn fire. He does not cry. He never learned how. Instead, he pushes himself up on shaking arms, teeth gritted against the agony, and stares up at the vacant cliff edge. A single, aching thought forms, meant for the only soul who ever…