[P] Dew in the Valley

[Eik]

Never trust the story teller.

Later, Eik might marvel at how such a simple, scarred stallion could come to stand as an equal among the eleven others in the sacred clearing. But for now, he has forgotten how out of place he should feel, he has forgotten his past and his body entirely, and he has become a vessel for the strength of his court.

The three wildly different representatives move together as one body. Together they are the heart of Solterra, and he is so unbearably proud to stand next to these two fierce women. They are a force of nature, and beside them he too feels like something more than just a man.  

Into the grove they march, and with each step a sense of dread sinks deeper and deeper in his stomach. He reveals nothing of the nail-biting anxiety that threatens to break his stride and ruin the beautiful illusion of grace and strength. If Bexley Briar feels him subtly quivering beside her, he is grateful she makes no mention of it. It gets a little better once they enter and he sees a few familiar faces. Asterion, in particular, he looks at with the strength of a warm handshake, a silent affirmation of the bond between them.

Eik struggles to keep from fidgeting as representatives fill the space and the air thickens with heat and anticipation. One ear is pinned to the door in expectation of its closing, and the other is directed toward the statue before them. He looks at the floating rocks (nice trick) and does not say anything at all. He simply works to hide his dread behind a mask of impassivity, drawing strength from the resplendent women beside him.

It takes all his strength to continue standing tall and proud instead of stepping away into the background. The gods never seemed to care much for Eik, and with time the feeling became mutual. He sees no reason why this day should be any different.

Only trust the story.

<3