Andlátkyn; Vandr Sanses unin Alagaësia

What Makes a God

((There is.. triggering content ahead. Some illusions that some folk don't see for what they are. And later some things that are very much not illusions. Enjoy!))

He scrambled into his ceiling nest when he heard the bar over the door moving, going still and listening intently as the chamber was opened, multiple footsteps entering. He could hear sounds of disgust as humans filed into the room- his room. Too many to risk attacking.

Fresh shuddered as a deep, luxurious voice spoke with anger. "How did this happen."
He shook his skull to rid himself of the strange feelings the voice filled his mind with, another, far lesser one rose up, choking with the telltale sounds of nausea.
"His throat appears torn open, Your Majesty."

The growl that came next sent shivers down his spine, afraid to peek at the source.
"Clean this."
With that, footsteps quickly departed.
"But what of the-" "Quiet! It may wake!"
"What if it's watching us now?" Two remaining voices argued in undertone.

Fresh peered through the entrance of his nest, seeing a pair of humans nervously hefting up the corpse that was serving as his food, carrying it towards the door. He made a decision.
They were taking his food, so he would find more elsewhere. Clearly they didn't understand that he needed to eat.
Or maybe they did.

Either way, he soundlessly made his way to the door, it swinging shut before he could find a way out. He scowled at it, but no more. He didn't hear the bar slide back into place. They either didn't bother or intended to return shortly. He settled down to wait, ready to jump out of the gap between supporting strings, wiggling in anticipation.

He did not have to wait long, the door opening and spilling light into the dark room as the men returned, hands full of cleaning supplies and weapons belted to their sides. The swords didn't matter. As soon as they had cleared the space and stopped staring at the ceiling, he leapt outside, landing with a faint click of bone on stone and skittering out of sight, taking in the view of the hallway, erisdar decorating many alcoves as he ran.

The hall was shockingly beautiful, the ceiling high above and arched like a cathedral, strange solid doors lining the walls as he raced by. Fresh flicked his tongues, searching for hints of food while hiding in corners.

Tense, he finally decided to scrabble up the walls, hooking his digitigrade feet and secondary hands into the small loops of the latticework surrounding the fluted pillars, finding a ledge he could run upon, staring at the ground from up high.

Fresh made his way into another corridor via said ledge, taste-smelling the air for anything that would lead him to food, to meat. He'd found a particular liking for it, even though he preferred sweets. Something about it made him crave it with an insatiable hunger reminiscent of his time as a parasite. It was strange, but not overly unfamiliar.

The architecture changed as he walked, forcing him to crawl along the wall when the ledge disappeared, tracking down the delectable scent of food, particularly beef. He liked beef. It was probably his favorite meat. Cows were delicious.
It was such a shame they were such kind creatures as well.

Fresh kept scurrying along the wall, barely sparing a glance at the artwork that was the castle. It didn't feel worth anything. He was sure it was going to be destroyed soon regardless. After all, he had been imprisoned here. Error would know. Error would devastate this place. He was a god, and Fresh himself a godling. It was a death sentence to anger them- and oh were they angry. He hadn't forgotten the rumble he'd felt when first ripped from his sister. Surely Galbatorix knew he was doomed the second he had them kidnapped?

He clambered down an elegant pillar in a smaller wing of the castle and pounced on a door, hanging off the knob and kicking it open before sliding inside. There, he found a large, cold and dark room filled with hanging, skinned carcasses. The floor was uneven, sloping into drains that reeked of old blood.