I THINK YOU WILL CATCH YOURSELF ON FIRE BEFORE YOU REALISE THAT EVEN YOU CANNOT CONQUER THE SUN. REBELLION LOOKS WELL ON YOU; LIKE A RED COAT OR THE GILT GOLD BURNISH OF YOUTH.
He had come to watch the End of Something.
Orestes does not know what the End entailes.
How could he? So entrapped in Solterra, in the desert, and even somewhere beyond in the sea—
He had had no time for island ventures.
How was he to know what this Something was?
Now, standing on the beach there were many things he does not know, watching the collapse, watching the finality of magic that has decayed. The game is up!
Orestes’s eyes follow the distant shadows of birds as they abandon the dense, dark canopy—but many of them appear to turn to glitter or sand at the height of their escape, just as their wingbeats become confident and assured in their survival. There is something crudely wild about it; something that looks like a god’s laughter would, if gods laughed in some distant kingdom and that laughter had a shape.
Oh, and weren’t they laughing?
Weren’t they laughing?
He turns away before he can ever know that there is a red mare running, running, running.
He turns away before he can ever know the End—
He turns away before she swims ashore,
dripping wet,
singing to the sea.
After all, somewhere far from this twisted magic there is an End to a story he was once a part of, but no longer knows to read. And for him, his heart is calm and swelled with sentiments for a city beneath a burning sun that needs him to save it. If he had waited—what if he had waited—
Orestes does not know.
He does not even think to ask what if, and as he turns from the beach and the pandemonium, he begins to hum some mild tune from a life he is forgetting. All the while the sea shudders against the shore and the island sinks and the strange creatures dissolve to sand and brine. He hums as a chestnut mare breaches the waves with a mouth full of shark’s teeth and keens out a sharp and poignant song somewhere he cannot see, because he is already past the beach, he is already returning to the desert—
But that is when he pauses. It is when he hears a song he once knew but cannot remember the words to. It is when he hears a sound so poignant, so aching, that he feels as if perhaps he had known the answer to it, once. He feels a chill go through his body despite the sun overhead. The sea is out of sight, but this does not keep him from glancing over his shoulder toward the direction of the magic island and the shore. There is so much dying magic in the air he feels, for a moment, as if he too is dying again—his jaw slackens and a desperate part of his heart wants to keen back, but he breathes in
and
and
and
the only sound that escapes him is a sigh.
Orestes turns away. It is all he can do.
He walks back to Solterra and that cry
echos
echos
echos
inside him.
STAFF EDIT***
@orestes has rolled a 1! They have been awarded +2 exp.
