aion
the woods are lovely, dark and deep
but I have promises to keep.
but I have promises to keep.
Through it all, Aion had listened silently.
New, fresher faces had made themselves heard, and he had turned into the ghost he once claimed himself to be, settling at the back of the crowd as they came forward. Like dogs, he thought to himself, listening to them all critically. Who howls the loudest?
He had lost his taste for politics - and leadership - long ago.
Kings and queens, princes and princess, all claiming dominion over this island.
He should want to fly away, should want to return home to Eros. There was nothing here on this island for him; Aion was not young and adventurous, and he had never claimed to be a hero. No, he would let the more daring hearts explore, let the younger souls unravel whatever secrets the god of time had left here for them.
He turns to go, his pale wings brightening and flaring - but he can’t bring himself to leave. His eyes search the horizon for home even as his ears tilt backwards to listen. For a moment he’s caught in his own indecision, equal parts the rabbit and the wolf.
As the sunlight spills across his back and his wings fill themselves with light, inviting him to take to the air, he hesitates. And then, slowly, he tucks his wings back to his sides, forcing the sunlight out of them. They turn pale and ghostly, shimmering insubstantially at his sides.
And then he turns, back to the island, back to the group that is beginning to disperse. He can hear the Dusk King talking and planning as all kings do. And something inside of him shifts.
“I’m a doctor from Delumine,” he says softly, and it’s moreso to remind himself than to inform anyone else. “I’ll stay here.” In case anyone is hurt, he tells himself, but also in case I can do something good. Here on the beach, here on a foreign land besides a strange statue with an unknown meaning.
He did not expect the island to reveal anything to him, did not expect it to open his frozen heart to something new and exciting. But still, there was a small piece of hope that cried out lonesomely, holding out for exactly that.
Random Events | "speaks" | notes: ///
