There are too many names he knows here, in the long stretch of the market that has been overtaken by memorials. Maxence. Reichenbach. Isorath. Asterion. Florentine.
Asterion. Asterion. Asterion. Not dead, not for certain, but– gone, anyway. Gone without question, and that was all that mattered to those left behind. Gone and there was a fuzzy shape now always at the edge of Eik’s vision. Lodged in his chest was a stupid, brutal hope that his friend was there, always there just out of sight, but whenever he turned his head to look there was– nothing.
Of course there was nothing.
It was a nothing peopled with regret, uncertainty, wonder…. and mostly just more regret. He did not remember their last conversation as well as he remembered their first– how was that? what was wrong with him? why didn’t he say the things he should have said? were there signs he missed, red flags he should have noticed?
Eik doesn’t stand at the altar. He doesn’t care for candles and offerings, doesn’t believe anyone’s on the other side grateful for these sentimentalities. He’s walking down the lane of those who were lost, running over his thoughts like a blade the whetstone. He’s following the sound of a bell, but he doesn’t realize it yet. It makes him think of Eshek and godliness, but he doesn’t realize it yet either.
The bell draws closer, or the other way around,
The boy (everyone begins to look like a boy, when you get to Eik’s age– gods, time was wearing him down) the boy reminds him of Asterion. Something about the dusky brown of his skin and the way he looks at the stars, really looks at them even as the crowd flows past like water. “Hey,” Eik calls, voice rougher than expected. Tight with grief. He clears his throat. “You okay?”
- - -
There is no better way to know us
E I K
than as two wolves, come separately to a wood
Asterion. Asterion. Asterion. Not dead, not for certain, but– gone, anyway. Gone without question, and that was all that mattered to those left behind. Gone and there was a fuzzy shape now always at the edge of Eik’s vision. Lodged in his chest was a stupid, brutal hope that his friend was there, always there just out of sight, but whenever he turned his head to look there was– nothing.
Of course there was nothing.
It was a nothing peopled with regret, uncertainty, wonder…. and mostly just more regret. He did not remember their last conversation as well as he remembered their first– how was that? what was wrong with him? why didn’t he say the things he should have said? were there signs he missed, red flags he should have noticed?
Eik doesn’t stand at the altar. He doesn’t care for candles and offerings, doesn’t believe anyone’s on the other side grateful for these sentimentalities. He’s walking down the lane of those who were lost, running over his thoughts like a blade the whetstone. He’s following the sound of a bell, but he doesn’t realize it yet. It makes him think of Eshek and godliness, but he doesn’t realize it yet either.
The bell draws closer, or the other way around,
The boy (everyone begins to look like a boy, when you get to Eik’s age– gods, time was wearing him down) the boy reminds him of Asterion. Something about the dusky brown of his skin and the way he looks at the stars, really looks at them even as the crowd flows past like water. “Hey,” Eik calls, voice rougher than expected. Tight with grief. He clears his throat. “You okay?”
- - -
There is no better way to know us
E I K
than as two wolves, come separately to a wood
@Sirius <3
Time makes fools of us all
