March 2, 2015
Trophont sat in the dining room, cupping his face in his hands. A light breeze blew into the curtains, and a lock of his golden hair swayed in tandem. It was as if the night was calling him, daring him to let loose and give in to his passions. But he continued so be still, remembering how his people told him this day would come. Slowly, he unveiled his face and looked into the mirror, cocking his head slightly. His eyes had changed to a light violet, possessed by the elders. It was just a breeze. Nothing more, nothing less.