Rey
.
.
.
The entire room grew as cold as a cruel night, as silent as a grave. Rage, that hot burning anger was digging its claws deep in my chest, blinding my eyes and clouding my mind. I was no longer before the King, I was standing right in front of my father, and nothing made my rage burn as bright as when my father would deliberately push me into passivity.
I had to swallow my anger and avert my eyes away from the vague figure hidden beneath the the darkest swarming shadows. I could hear him lean back, his finger idly tapping against the black marble throne. I had always wondered what he looked like. Thanatos; the God of Death. Yet again, I was more concerned about the poor souls that caught a glimpse of his surely terrifying appearance before their final trip to the afterlife. He was a truly formidable being and I hated any resemblance I bore to him.
