In the court of the Horned King the revelries reach their height when he calls for his concubine. His mindless servants lead a young boy in chains--the hero Taran, almost totally broken by the King’s will of steel. The former hero Taran is dress in nothing save the dull, unearthly light the Horned King’s domain radiates everywhere, nowhere. The great majesty of all that is not-life looks upon his concubine with only two black fissures that reveal the icy pallor of intent. He suggests to the young boy that he puts on a show for his debauched guests. In a small waver of mutiny, Taran casts his saliva unto the visage of the Horned King. But this only ears the boy a terrible lashing across his back with those hollow fingers cut from the ices of a time before life. The immovable face of the empty skull pope moves his finger down, down, down the boy’s in a parody of affection. The king’s whisper comes as a blast of absolute zero when his fingers reach the source
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The black cauldron - Horned king/Taran.
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i like this idea...*brainstorms*
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