Renaissance



They got up. They was covered with wounds. Those of betrayal and class snobbery had left the deepest traces. Bloody furrows on hir soul flayed to the bone. Even hir own family did not hesitate to stab him. Opportunism, jealousy, stupidity or pure wickedness... They should have died a thousand deaths at the hands of those who were supposed to be hir closest circle. But they was not dead. Today, while the moon was dark, while the healing was slow, they was aware of the black sun that was rising in hir inner being, they felt a new force coming up from the depths of hir unconscious, like the forgotten sea monster, destroying what they had been until then.

They now fully embraced hir non-binarity and the inner freedom it implied.

They drank the dragon's blood as a new and unholy force ran through hir veins. They changed hir name that night. A name that would henceforth be spoken in the shadows, for they knew, at that moment, that hir destiny was not to walk at high noon, but to work under the low light of dusk.

They stopped crying over the past and regretting what never was. They died to himself, came back to life and became fully an avatar of the Great Dragon.


Watercolor by Halima Witchcraft