I P O M O E A
”I’ve been caught,” she tells him, and his name is gentle on her lips when she turns her eyes to look at him. He can’t help the similar smile that blossoms like a rose across his face - happiness had always been contagious, when it came to Ipomoea. He couldn’t help but smile when others smiled, laugh when others laughed, dance when others danced.
He was beginning to learn that anger, too, was an emotion he could soak up and reflect as easily as any other. But oh, how much nicer it was to be happy and at peace!
Too few of the world had that, these days.
“I would love that,” he tells the red woman, and he means each word he says. “Your city is marvelous, as soon as I think I’ve seen it all it shows me something new.” He’s walked the streets of Denocte under three different Sovereigns now, at very different times of the Court’s history - it was a second home to him, a place that always made him feel as if he were waking up from a long slumber. But there was something in the lightness of her voice and the shine of her golden eyes that promised adventure, that promised to show him places of the city he had never seen before. It piqued at his wanderlust soul.
So when she asks him why he’s here, his heart sings with laughter.
“Adventure.”
And maybe a bit of a hunt, as well. For gods, for relics, for monsters.
“This island makes me feel like a boy again,” he tells her, and there’s a sly sort of smile hiding at the corners of his lips. “Like all the world is just one great treasure hunt, and all we have to do is fight the dragon to find it.” Now he knows better - dragons didn’t always look like dragons, and sometimes dragons were more friend than foe - but still, the island has a way of singing sweetness into his ears.
The tigress falls behind them, and he settles into step beside Moira. For a moment all he hears is the gentle crash of the sea, their muted footsteps on the beach, and the sighing of the wind through the nearby trees. He knew the quiet would not last for long - it never did, here in this strange and exciting world - but he found comfort in the lull.
“And what of you? Does the island tell you similar fairy tales?”
He was beginning to learn that anger, too, was an emotion he could soak up and reflect as easily as any other. But oh, how much nicer it was to be happy and at peace!
Too few of the world had that, these days.
“I would love that,” he tells the red woman, and he means each word he says. “Your city is marvelous, as soon as I think I’ve seen it all it shows me something new.” He’s walked the streets of Denocte under three different Sovereigns now, at very different times of the Court’s history - it was a second home to him, a place that always made him feel as if he were waking up from a long slumber. But there was something in the lightness of her voice and the shine of her golden eyes that promised adventure, that promised to show him places of the city he had never seen before. It piqued at his wanderlust soul.
So when she asks him why he’s here, his heart sings with laughter.
“Adventure.”
And maybe a bit of a hunt, as well. For gods, for relics, for monsters.
“This island makes me feel like a boy again,” he tells her, and there’s a sly sort of smile hiding at the corners of his lips. “Like all the world is just one great treasure hunt, and all we have to do is fight the dragon to find it.” Now he knows better - dragons didn’t always look like dragons, and sometimes dragons were more friend than foe - but still, the island has a way of singing sweetness into his ears.
The tigress falls behind them, and he settles into step beside Moira. For a moment all he hears is the gentle crash of the sea, their muted footsteps on the beach, and the sighing of the wind through the nearby trees. He knew the quiet would not last for long - it never did, here in this strange and exciting world - but he found comfort in the lull.
“And what of you? Does the island tell you similar fairy tales?”
