Somnus  It was his birthday. The seventh day of spring… Yet Somnus felt terribly low. It could always be worse, but his heart was surprisingly heavy on a day that should mean a joyous occasion surrounded by beloved family and friends. Alas, here he was, another year older and secreted away in the citadel library with his fourth serving of Delumine grown coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Bitter, just like he was feeling at the moment. Oriens bless the patient page who had darted to and fro throughout the citadel to refill his coffee pot when it grew empty. A dusty tome rested innocently upon the ground before his folded legs where he lounged upon warm duvets and cushions with young Alba napping in a comfortable roost between his shoulders, and the Regent would alternate between scanning the letters written in elegant script, flipping a page, sipping at his coffee, or gazing longingly out the window. It wasn’t an ideal way to spend a birthday, but it served him just fine. He wasn’t in the mood for company anyway. Nightmares had awoken him, of fire and blood and heartache. Of his late-king’s reverent smile. It had been a very long time since he had dreamt of the Fall of Vallen. In a way, he had thought himself over it all, but clearly there were some things that the mind simply could not forget or bury. If only it had waited for another day to rear its ugly head, perhaps then it would not be so bad, but life had the uncanny ability to kick a man when he was down. Verdant eyes turned away from his book and once more to the window, watching as the colors of dawn chased away the suffocating dark of night. Perhaps a bit of fresh air would do him some good. As soon as the thought popped into his head, however, Somnus immediately drowned it with a sip of hot coffee. No. He was quite content here, thank you very much, hidden away from the world to selfishly celebrate his day of birth alone. It’s what he wanted… But was it what he would have wanted? Groaning, the tactician’s tired emerald gaze slid closed against the rising sunlight. “… When will you no longer haunt me?” He asked wretchedly to the empty library. No one would answer, the ghosts of the authors of every tome and novel silent. Alba, disturbed by her bond mate’s verbal inquiry, ruffled her feathers in agitation, one black eye slowly sliding open to regard the dunalino with a look of grumpy indignation. The nestling was growing tremendously from the day that he had found her within the blizzard, but they were still figuring one another out. If there was one thing that the barn owl loathed was being rudely awoken. She certainly loved her sleep. He sighed apologetically. “Apologies, Alba. Go back to sleep.” The nestling gave a ’chirrup’ and did just that, tucking her downy head down between her wings to continue her morning nap. Somnus, for his part, turned his gaze back to that of his book, let out a dreary sigh, and once more continued to read. The day would pass and life would continue, but for now, he simply had to endure and survive. |
Somnus is being an uncharacteristic grump on his birthday. Open to anyone who wants to put up with his grumpiness! :D
