[AW] This grand show is eternal

[Eik]

E I K
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You are born of drying concrete and car exhaust, the slow crawl of steel beasts over cracked and filthy roads. Is that why you strive for nobility, why you grasp for something beautiful in the dark, something different? All you want is everything you don't have. It is no small matter, the things you lack. It slowly drives you insane, a woodpecker in your skull-- brainpecker? We digress. And for every hole that is drilled, another fantasy rises up, another dark and whimsical thought. And your panic rises and falls and rises again, each time higher, more frightening. And--

And peace of mind is a fickle butterfly.

Fickle, he likes that word. He often feels fickle, mood changing on a whim, never for the better. He wonders when it started, this up and down. Was it always in him or has it risen like a slow tide, from birth to now? Or is it the shockwaves of the fire that took his life four years ago? Regardless, the ocean seems to balance him out, only leaving behind fatigue. Dull, flat, grey fatigue.

The salt air makes him feel like a different man, though he is too tired to be that man. But he doesn't think of the way he is feeling, not in words at least. Instead he's thinking of the ocean and the sand and the way time passes.  It feels good to share silence and space and he thinks this will be one of those moments he will revisit later, in his memories. (He once valued living in the moment- now it seems memories and daydreams are better places to live)

And when the silence crests, and breaks, and falls, that is good too. Everything is right here.

"I think..." He trails off, going over the map of Novus he's shaped in his mind, then shakes his head, not very fond of sharing conjectures. "We will have to find out." He offers a small smile, as though sharing something secret. "Where are you from?"

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@Asterion <3