A S T E R I O N
in sunshine and in shadow*
He watches her face as she ties the blossom into his mane, and breathes in the soft-sweet scent of it, and thinks of the other gifts has has been given - a sand-dollar, a feather, the ghost of a kiss on his cheek. Oh, he wonders, will these be all I have left of my friends, one day?
But he does not weep anymore.
Instead Asterion smiles, warm and true despite the tears that sharpen his vision into something clearer and more delicate. Novus has taught him again and again to doubt all things - the honesty of a lover, the honor of serving a court, the gods themselves - but he does not doubt her, nor that she will return to him again.
With or without a flower-nymph.
“Be safe, little sister,” he says, but she is already gone.
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