He doesn't have much time to himself these days. Tension runs high in the capital and in response Eik has turned his attention inward, to Solterra instead of the other courts.
(still-- his thoughts are often drifting far above and far away, where a golden eagle circles lazily on warm updrafts. Even when surrounded by four walls, even when engaged in conversation or reading or writing... there is always a part of him that is reserved for Somewhere Else, a part of him always ready to imagine he can feel the wind in his feathers and the sun on his broad back.)
Time has passed in a whirl, as it tends to do when one is exceedingly busy. Searching for the lost, dealing with the bodies, planning the allocation of food (water, for once, not a concern!) and just generally... talking to a lot of people, keeping hopes up, providing support where he can. It is exhausting for someone so fond of silence and open space, but it is deeply rewarding. At the same time, it gives him the uncomfortable feeling of resigning to a fate he had not even seen coming. The emissary once walked the streets with hardly anyone recognizing his face-- he does not know if he will ever have that luxury again.
And so the days bleed into another and the sleep deprivation compounds. His body suffers, too, at war with this newly discovered and highly temperamental magic. It will blaze to life, filling his head with the (unwanted) stream-of-conscious thoughts of anyone nearby, then sputter out leaving him sweating and exhausted and not so confident in his sanity.
In the chaos of the past few weeks, Eik has managed to create a small routine- it helps to keep him grounded even when the days are speeding by. He comes to the rampart at sunrise every morning. It is with such regularity that the morning watch has unofficially become his-- the yearlings normally on duty are granted a few more hours of precious warmth and sleep. He watches the landscape first with a critical eye, looking for changes in the slowly melting snowfall and perpetually hoping to see the flush of green life among the dramatic swathes of white and red-orange. Toward the end of his watch, he has fallen under the spell of the desert's beauty and simply stands there at peace. He has come to love watching the morning colors race across the sand dunes, each day different from the last. It is the one moment in the whole day that feels like it is his. (Even his sleep is interrupted by his magic throwing him in the dreams and nightmares of others.)
Eik does not stir when he hears hooves on the stone behind him. @
"Looks like good weather today," he says quietly, never quite adept at small talk even after all the practice of late. His eyes remain on the landscape before them, on the eagle floating above the horizon in large, lazy circles. He thinks if he tries hard enough he might be able to join it, in mind, if only briefly. But for now he settles for imagining what it might be thinking.
I have let myself go where the dust
E I K
Has the color of nothing
art by Footybandit
@Adelita ahhh goodness he's so bad at small talk -shakes head-
(also tagged sera for the reference because it seemed like something she'd do <3) this thread is open to anyone now!
Time makes fools of us all
