[P] the future is what we make it

[Somnus]

I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love

It took a considerable amount of time for his chambers within the Citadel to be cleaned and fit to live in once more. Somnus had been tedious about everything, careful and meticulous in only the way a blind man could, hyper focused and in a way, terribly obsessive. A few bold individuals had poked their heads in to inquire if he needed assistance, but with a patient smile and a shake of the head, he denied them every time yet thanked them for their offer. This was his duty alone to undertake.

His bedding had been entirely replaced, his desk organized so that he knew exactly where everything was (quills on the left in a jar, ink pot on the left, stack of parchments and scrolls to the right, those of highest importance in the middle of his workspace), his books placed upon the shelves assorted by alphabetical order, his personal altar to Oriens tidy and magnificent just beneath the open balustrade of his chambers. The hanger that held his cloak was fixed near the door, just within reach so he would never forget it whenever he stepped out…

Which, embarrassingly, was not very often, save for his somewhat frequent trips to the Library.

Quite honestly the Library was his only place of visiting, but mostly because he enjoyed the solitude and the quiet. The halls of leaves and limbs felt like home, and the aspect of ‘home’ was in short supply.

It was there that Somnus found himself that evening, lost in a great stack of tomes. Alba roosted nearby atop of a tall bookshelf, watching as the dunalino flipped through the open book on the worktable page by page, his useless eyes scanning every word as though he could truly see what was written. Perhaps, by Oriens’ grace, he could. The barn owl had never actually asked, but she knew that Oriens had favored Somnus even before his ascension to Dawn King of Delumine.

Pausing in his reading, a thoughtful frown upon his greyed lips, Somnus mulled over what he had read. “... It is an interesting tradition, surely, but I do wonder if the new Sovereign will be willing to incorporate it back into our yearly festival schedule.” Maybe, once the verdict had been made, the tactician could approach them with the offer. Surely Oriens would enjoy having a festival to worship and appreciate his name once more, right?

… Although the patron of Delumine was a humble God, and Somnus could not imagine his good friend wishing to make a big deal about that. His frown deepened, the milky-green of his useless eyes troubled. “... Perhaps I shall ask him the next time we sit for tea. I would loathe to be so bold as to assume he would enjoy such frivolous activities.”

So focused on his own inner contemplations, Somnus was unaware that he and Alba had company. The barn owl, however, slowly rotated her head so that she could better see their sudden visitor; a pale lady she did not know, but there was something about the way she carried herself that caused Alba to not worry.

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tag: @Arah

[Arah]

Arah

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Empty. Bare. The perspective was difficult to alter. Rebuilding brought the familiar weight into her stomach. The room was musky, not even her own scent had covered the old one in the cold stone room. There was unused bedding in the corner, just below a small window. On the other side of the window was a desk, both her history book and lantern sat atop it. There were odd carvings on the wood, as if whoever had this room before her could not wait to get some thoughts out of their head. A tiny room. Though a new unproven scholar could hardly expect the lodgings of a king. As she turned a grubby mirror reflected the truth back at her. The walks under the sun and better food had returned the shine to her coat, health returned to her soft round features. Tremendous ivory locks tumbled to the ground, freshly washed and sweet smelling. Even her antlers were in a reasonable condition...

It was strange and wholly unfamiliar. Turning from the mirror she kept the image of herself in her own mind. This version was more preferable to be sure. Grown. Matured. 

With a sniff she swept from the room, locking the image of the stranger inside, trapped in the grimy mirror. As the door shut behind her she glanced down the corridor for her bonded. Wynter had left for a hunting trip and not yet returned. Instead of heading out of the court she moved towards the trees, heading deeper into the land. Following the unfamiliar route towards the halls of knowledge. It would be her first time visiting the library, directions given last night by a passing guard. Excitement hurried her steps, energy rolled off her skin. It swirled around her, infecting any that she past in the corridor. Movements smoother than water, as always thanks to her steady foundations, lead her to the hallowed halls. 

It was unlike any library she had visited. Nestled within the trees so much knowledge had been gathered and stored. Keeping the weather at bay the branches overhead locked together. Protectively cradling the gifts in the craved wooden shelves, like a womb carried an unborn babe, the selves were full of life. Awe filled her entire being and the doe embraced it. Allowing the warmth to spread through her limbs, her eyes still were consumed with taking in all the details. Like a moth drawn to flame, she drew into the library. The light of the lanterns played whimsically with the colours on her coat. 

There was mostly silence, just the odd rustle of a page being flipped.  

Entering between the shelves, her golden orbs adjusting quickly to the light, she began to read the titles on the spines of the tomes. Some where clearly old, cracked, bent, stained and smelling musky. Others were newer, though she didn’t think for a moment crafted by any less of a brilliant mind. 
Though she could have happily roamed the shelves, simply gazing at the books, the desire to learn more about her home was what had driven her here in the first instance. Following the books she slowly found tomes more related to the subject. Though she wanted to narrow up the information down to her new home in particular. The dawn court, not just the lands at large. 

A voice rolled warmth over her skin. It called her in, curiosity about meeting a fellow scholar drawing her in. A mention of tea drew an unwarranted smile to her delicately painted chops. Spying the reading stag between the shelves she inspected the light golden coat of the soul. A gentle reminder of the sunset, the warmer colours appeared at the high points of his coat, melting to white points around his ankles. Two powerful large wings nestled at his side, impressive and beautiful. When he shifted the doe saw the singular horn. The depths of his emerald eyes stunned her slightly. New and yet oddly familiar. 

A coy smile still tugged at the corner of her lips when she noted the sharp eyes watching her. Nestled comfortably between knowledge, the small protecter had trained her gaze upon the doe. Allowing a breath, a moment of stillness, she finally emerged from between the stacks. "I must confess to enjoying the odd traditional frivolous activity." Musically her tones spread through the space, not loud enough to carry too far but certainly loud enough to capture his attention. As she stepped closer her golden orbs noted the milky aspect to his gaze. Though he was reading, assumption was made that he could see her. 

Straightening she watched. A doe waiting to see if she had encountered predator. There was a calmness to his stance and being, encouraging her to not fear him. Though she was ever cautious around all strangers. Still with the smile tugging at the corners of her lips she dipped her crowned head. "Pardon my interruption, do you have a moment to provide me with some assistance?" Clearly he was a well read scholar and she could only assume that he was quite familiar with the works presented on the shelves. Though she loathed to interrupt another’s studies, if he did have a moment she hoped to find a guide within him. Showing her where the information she sought was located. 

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LET US SPEND OUR DAYS WITH RECKLESS ABANDON.

@Somnus | credits