There is love in his friend's voice as he speaks of Florentine. It is not the hungry love of a new lover, nor the tired love of an old one. It is deep and wise, even in its uncertainties. It floats on down the river and even when the current knocks it over, love turns upright again, always keeps its face to the sun. In his captivation Eik feels the way he has not felt in many years. It brings him back to the great oak tree, curled up on the ground as Mor told the children, in that deep and ancient voice as though it was the tree that spoke through her, told the children the stories that blew all the doors in Eik wide open, stretched his mind as easy as blinking her eyes. He always had the feeling she was speaking to him and him alone; perhaps that was a gift of her that made her such a great storyteller. Or perhaps she was knowingly planting seeds in him, pushing him down the river,
letting him
let go.
Like Mor, Asterion has the skill that rouses in Eik two more questions for every answer he gets. Shamelessly greedy, Eik leans in, captivated, pushing away thoughts of war and the day Mor's blood seeped into the earth.
(how dark it was! The darkest blood he's ever seen, dark and heavy with knowing. What else died with her, he often wonders)
"and I worry for her- but I don't think I need to." Eik nods gently, thoughtfully musing over the twilight queen's description. He asks no more questions. It is nice to have a little mystery, sometimes, and honestly he assumes that they will meet at some point. He has yet to realize that people die suddenly, violently here, too. Everything here is still safe and clean and superficial. Soon enough he will see the people's capacity for bloodshed, but not yet. For now he can think and rethink Asterion's words and enjoy the company of a friend- and together they can search for whatever it is they're looking for. Whatever shapeless nameless things their hearts crave.
Together they are very old children. And like a child he is strangely not aware of time passing. Time, the great inescapable force in his life, is simply discarded for the moment.
"It is a lot of silence and solitude," Eik admits, thinking of all the time he's spent wandering. His lifestyle is far more boring than Asterion would believe, and yet... how to describe the way he feels, sometimes, completely alone- and yet not at all. Not with the sky above and the ground below and the singing of the wind, and the scramble of lizard feet or the flutter of the sparrow's wings. He does not know if it is worth the effort to try to explain the feeling he gets sometimes... Anyway it must different, for those who are really alive at all times. How to describe to them what it is like to be living in a dream all your life, only to be struck randomly with a surge of life- life! Electric, musical. To be always separate from the world- and then suddenly thrust into it, achingly aware of the synchronicity to which everything pulses, the beautiful crystalline harmony of it all-
and then, always, to have it all wrenched away again.
That is the feeling he's always after, that feeling emphasized by grand, open spaces and solitude. The beautiful things he sees and the characters he meets along the way are just pleasant bi-products. And they do make nice stories.
He shakes the dreams from his head gently, turning thoughtfully to his friend. "The adventure is more boring and ugly than the stories... But better." What else is there to say? "Certainly travel is part of your responsibility now? Visiting other courts and... doing other things outside?" As he hears himself speak he can't help but grin suddenly at how coltish he sounds. Oh he is generally well spoken (the less you speak the easier it is) but sometimes his words come out in an ungraceful tumble.
Things take a serious turn as Eik escapes into his guilt. A bump then, shoulder to shoulder, draws him back. The gesture, and the words that follow, mean everything to Eik. It is a rare sensation for him, to not feel alone. He offers a small, grateful smile to the bay. A silent thank you, and that is all.
Around them the court is alive with soft conversation and laughter and color. "But I don't think this is my favorite part," Asterion says."Oh?" Curiosity. "What would your favorite part be?"
Talk turns again to the future, and Eik only gives a shruglike bob of his head. "I will see you there some day." He knows this is true, or perhaps he just believes it. "I would advise against a summertime visit."
@Asterion and one for you <3
Time makes fools of us all
