Aeron sat on the throne, leaned forward slightly, his left leg crossed so that his ankle rested on his right knee and his right elbow on his left ankle, his face resting in the palm of his hand, looking as though he were pondering life's great mysteries. In truth, he was pondering something else entirely. He was growing a bit restless, eager for a change of pace, some adventure, perhaps. He'd ruled his world with his sister for hundreds of years and it could be quite tedious at times. Or maybe that wasn't it at all. Maybe it was what was inside of him that grew restless. He could feel it, the darkness, as if it were a living being writhing about inside of him, growing restless, trying so hard to break free, to take control of his mind and his body and then, perhaps, the world.<br/><br/>No one knew of the struggle he faced. Even his sister wasn't entirely privy to his secret. She knew that he, at times, struggled to control the magic he possessed, but beyond that she had no idea. Or if she did, it wasn't because he had told her, and she never mentioned it. He'd kept it at bay for hundreds of years without anyone knowing of his struggle, and he would continue to do so. Although, truth be told, this was becoming increasingly difficult. He could hear the darkness whispering inside of his mind, telling him to do things he knew he shouldn't, willing him to let go and give into madness. What if one day he did? What if he simply couldn't control it anymore? What if one day he could no longer distinguish the whispers from his own thoughts? What if the struggle drove him to madness?<br/><br/>It was a frustrating conundrum. Give in to darkness and madness or be driven to madness by a struggle to remain good.<span style="font-style: italic">What is the point of fighting the inevitable?</span>He shook his head, knowing these were not his thoughts, but the whispers of the darkness, bidding him to relinquish control. How long would it be before he could no longer control it? Before he could no longer say no? He didn't know the answer. All he knew was that he would fight it until there was nothing left, until every last piece of him was gone. He wouldn't last forever, of that he was certain.<span style="font-style: italic">What is the point of immortality if is it a life of misery? What is the point if after some point you are no longer really yourself?</span>He wondered, but once again, he didn't have an answer.<br/><br/>He envied his sister. She may have her struggles, but at least she didn't have to fight the darkness within herself. At least she didn't live every day knowing that one day she would lose that fight and become something no longer recognizable as human. At least she could look forward to eternity without these fears. Though, perhaps she had fears of her own. Fears that her brother would one day become a monster. He didn't know whether or not she feared this, but if she didn't, she should. He would not wish that fear on her, though. It was his burden to bear and he would bear it alone for as long as he could.<br/><br/>He sighed to himself and sat up straight, dropping his left leg to the ground and running his long fingers through his medium-length dark hair. After a moment he stood, deciding that he should probably eat something, given that it had been over twenty-four hours since he had eaten anything. Or perhaps he would forgo sustenance once more and go for a ride. That usually helped to calm him and clear his mind. He strode from the throne room, his long legs carrying him in the direction which held both the dining hall and the exit to the stables. He would decide on the way over which he would rather do. Or rather he would simply let his legs carry him to whichever his subconscious mind decided was best.