phoenix leos ; d4 cb

He resolved to leave years before he actually mustered the courage. Perhaps because some part of Nyx knew he would never really escape the love born of an iron fist. His father was an influential man, a hair's breadth from divinity as far as Phoenix was concerned. And he was a child, raised by the pity of the staff employed at his father's estate. Archer - the old groundskeeper - told him it was unbearable to hear a baby wailing in its crib for all those lonely hours.

Flames lick the soles of his feet as he tears out of the house. It's just before dawn, the skies of Nine bleed a grayish pink before the fog rolls in. He'd packed a backpack full of his sentiments and found it pathetically light, slung over his shoulder as he begins a single-minded trek toward the train station.

His stepmother - a kind woman who had come around long after Nyx needed such things - had once told him about the only woman his father had ever truly loved. He was a peacekeeper then, with a reckless streak he's since strung up in the gallows. She'd moved to Nine with him, for a time, but had left sixteen dawns ago. His stepmother couldn't be sure but she thinks she remembered the woman came from Four.

So that's where he's headed.

And truly, it's only a matter of time before his father finds him and strings him up in the gallows too. So he better make the most of this freedom, right?