Thread: ~Clash~

There was something different about the sound of the footsteps that came ever nearer, something profoundly alien to anything he had known for the last decade. His curiosity was immediate, but he reigned it in, as his father had taught him in the time they had. Discipline was everything, with enough of it, one could come through any trial of will, endure any strife. As the sound of footfall faded away, he felt himself as master of his mind, prepared for whatever curiosity might tempt him, it had always been his weakness, the most distracting flicker along his concentration. And so it was, that when the door swung open, the prisoner found himself proven quite wrong about his level of mental mastery. He was intermediately lost in the blinding glare of the firelight, and his mind shattered into a blissful cloud as he let the sensations roll over his eyes, his body, down the tingly center of his spine. The boy who had mastered his body so well, who had become so intimately aware of its nooks and crannies of consciousness, was reintroduced to the sight of the lighted world with a vision he would forever count himself as blessed to have seen, no matter what else came. The wavering illumination of the fire sent a wonderful splay of color upon everything it touched, including the woman in black before him, silhouetted against the doorway he had only ever envisioned in his mind eyes, now laid bare for what it was. What came next of course, was pain. It struck him right as he was rising to his full height, which despite his malnutrition, was nothing to sneeze at, floating some low odd inches above the mark of six feet. Taking a single step forward, toward the blinding light, the pain of such brightness on such underexposed eyes was enough to halt his forward progress and send a noticeable shiver down his entire body, and his bright gold eyes snapped shut, his head tilting downward and a slender arm extending forward, the fingers of his hand spread wide, as if to keep the radiance at bay. For a long moment, he stayed like that, breathing heavily and collecting himself. His arm lowered back down to his side, the tenseness with which he held himself loosened, and gradually, with great difficulty, he opened his eyes. Still staring at the floor, it still stung like all damnation, but he was expecting it this time, and after a moment, he was able to tilt his head up once more, taking in the sight before him once more. Once more he was nearly floored with the wondrous joy of vision. And what a sight it was, he loosely understood the figure before him to be female, but it had been long years since he had last seen any such. Still, pained and joyed as he was, he eyes were wide open, shining brightly in the light as he marveled. Taking another step closer he examined her fully, taking on every inch of her of a stare that was hungry for new input. He almost seemed expectant, for it had not yet crossed his mind that she might be here for any purpose other then to bring him food or water. He had learned long ago not to talk to the guards who came in the dark, for it never yielded results, not a single answer. So for now, he stood, and in the glow of the torch it would be revealed he was dressed in only gray, heavily worn shorts of thick cloth.