Serpentis Family/Erik Eyolf/Angry Chair
Angry Chair
Some nights ago...
Erik dismissed the two soldiers marching behind him. Nobody would be so stupid to attack him in Trinbar, his stronghold. He received reports of his own assassins. He was avenged and the policy of Westmoor changed with every good stab. Something made him happy, since he never ordered, asked or insinuated the retaliation. Nobody should disturb Sirion, that was the message; you will pay with your own blood. The Margrave lifted his eyes to the top of the hill where the Dragon's Nest was resting into the darkness.
Tribar, where the Silver Dragon sank his claws to defend Sirion and burn enemy lands with his breath of fire. A peaceful region lying over the hills, with fishermen and brewers, the best bread and the best beers. However, heavily militarized in its borders. Where the people saw him with admiration and regret. Now, a people almost scared under the rule of his gloomy heir. Erik opened the great doors of his old nest, letting the cold wind overrun the morbid air of abandon. A handful of scared employees crept into the shadows of the pillars, astonished with the moonshine on his armor. Beer, he said before walk to his old chair in his old hall. They served him as ghostly wraiths.
Sitting on an angry chair
Angry walls that steal the air
Stomach hurts and I don't care
What do I see across the way,
See myself molded in clay,
Stares at me, yeah I'm afraid,
Changing the shape of his face...
Alone, something almost impossible for someone with his duties, the Prime Minister of Sirion had time to contemplate his own thoughts. That relentless voice whispering in his ears, always asking for more. Changing like a hungry dragon. Pride, power, duties... carving out a spirit to please and to be pleased. Inciting powerful emotions and a constant urge to destroy and build over the ashes. He swallowed the beer with an insatiable thirst.
Candles red I have a pair
Shadows dancing everywhere
Burning on the angry chair
Little boy made a mistake,
Pink cloud has now turned to gray,
All that I want is to play,
Get on your knees, time to pray, boy!
Erik guffawed. In the blink of an eye the world had obeyed his will and his rise could not happen in a finest hour. An old rival had made a mistake and a new old ally decided to raise from his throne to fight once again. The world was dancing his song. More than ever he felt the power of Sirion in his veins, burning like living fire. But he was angry in his chair. The whole world was in his claws and he couldn't tear him apart. Erik roared and swallowed the beer with contempt, throwing the mug against the wall.
Something takes a part of me
Something lost and never seen
Everytime I start to believe
Something's raped and taken from me... from me
Life's gotta always be messing with me.
Feeling like I have no release.
So do I...
How many times have I felt diseased?
You wanna see the ligth?
Nothing in my life is free...
So... fight! Something on the...
Fight... somethings they fight!
The old dragon stood up and gripped the chair, lifting it with rage to smash it on the floor. He seized his sword to release his anger in furious blows. Kill them all! Sirion should be following this primordial law against worthless enemies. Enraged, the favorite of the goddesses offended them with his wrathful frustrations. Erik shouted to his sacred wives. He shouted to Sirion itself in his blind anger.
You and I were meant to be.
A cheap f*** for me to lay.
Something takes a part of me.
Feeling like a freak on a leash.
After release his fury, the Prime Minister took a deep breath and remained aware of everything surrounding him.
Erik Eyolf: "You'll never see me fall from grace..."
