Future Rust and Future Dust
Chapter 3
The throne room of the Autumn Court was packed with guards blocking the main entrance. Beron Vanserra sat on a lacquered throne of oak that stretched into the floors and low ceiling. Male nobles from Autumn mingled with males from Valhallan. Deep laughter rang over the small orchestra that played a cache of monotonous tunes that had been played for No females were ever allowed in the throne room, making the place stink of body odor and liquor.
It was in this room that Eris Vanserra slipped on his mask of spoiled boredom and disdain and watched his father like a hawk.
As he had since he was no more than a boy, Eris stood to the right of his father, watching. The male never seemed to move as he sat on the Autumn Throne. He did not adjust himself in his seat, nor did he cross his legs or lean back. Beron’s hands didn’t even twitch. No, Eris watched for the movement in his father’s eye. That small spark of cruelty and deception that would flash quickly while his jaw was set into a hard line. Eris knew his father’s tells, and now he could see it in Beron’s eyes as the emissary from Valhallan presented a cache of weapons at his feet.
“Pure black steel, forged from stone found only in our volcanoes.” the brute of a male said, kicking his leather boot at the stone trunk. The blades on the axes and knives were indeed an oily shade of black. The steel reflected off the amber colored lights, muting the sharp edges. The blades looked dull to Eris. Tristian and Kaspar surely thought the same thing, as they snickered at the display on the farther end of the dais.
The Valhallan emissary raised a flaxen brow.
“Volcanic steel has truly been a gift for us.” the Emissary said, “I swear it is Cauldron forged. Tough in the rock face, but when you melt it, the metal becomes so flexible.” He picked up a small and curved knife, casually twirling it in his fingers. “One can make such incredible weapons.” He continued in a dreamy tone as he approached Kaspar on the bottom steps of the dais.
“Here, let me show you just how sharp.” the Emissary said. His hand snaked behind Kaspar with quickness, a sharp sound of air piercing Eris’ ears. Kaspar brought a hand up to his own ears, checking for blood.
“Do you see, now?” the Emissary said with a laugh as he held Kaspar’s elaborate auburn braid in his fist. “Such flexible and sharp metal to take someone by surprise. Cauldron forged, I tell you.” He bared his yellowed teeth in a smile from behind his trimmed and curled mustache. Kaspar gripped at the back of his head, fingers tracing the jagged remainder of his braid.
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This is for the people who didn’t party in their teens and twenties. For the people who didn’t have that “coming of age” movie experience with shenanigans and revelations. This is for the people who mostly keep to themselves. Who maybe prefer things to be quieter and gentler. This is for the people who don’t feel like they belong in a culture that values loud parties and flashing lights. I see you. And you are valid.
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It's honestly crazy that discussion around testosterone HRT skews so much towards the beginning stages of it (to the point that you have dozens of guys thinking their transition is "failed" if they don't pass by like a year in lol) and what the initial changes of the first couple of months to years look like, like the classic laundry list of those early basic changes like bottom growth, voice drop, etc, when IMO literally none of that compares remotely to the depth and intensity of the long term total masculinization you start to experience like 3-5+ years in.
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hair combs in the form of lily leaves in dewdrops. england, 1906
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that feeling you get when you see a popular post from pre-2013 tumblr and you go on their blog and see that op is still posting regularly......hotel california ass website genuinely
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