Through unfamiliar eyes
The world was blue. Well, somewhere between purple and blue. Possibly lilac.
He knew he’d thought this before but couldn’t quite remember when, just as he knew he’d once had power.
Not merely authority, but real power; the ability and facility to order men into war, and women into his chamber. And they’d both gone to their respective fates not willingly, but because he ordered them to.
His power had been acknowledged and accepted by all. Well, by all that counted. Those that hadn’t recognised and submitted to it had… regretted it. He was sure of it. He was. He just couldn’t recall how he’d made them regret it, how that had operated, nor when it had happened.
He felt himself move, but he had not wished to move.
This was… familiar, and he had a sudden impression of dread. And then, as the memory of the curse made its inevitable return, the full sum of the events of that day surrounded him, suffused his very essence until he could imagine nothing else.
He remembered the meeting with the emissaries of the alleged deity, their strange costumes, his contempt for them, their executions and the laughter as the feathers burned and shrivelled…
…and then nothing until the world was blue. Well, somewhere between purple and blue.
Was that yesterday or a thousand years ago? The memory was gone, as was his caring about it. Until the next time.
He was left with only one thought, slowly fading.
He should never have offended the god of owls, he decided for what he never knew was approximately the half a millionth time…