That look on his face, I've seen it before on my father's. It was a strange combination of joy and pain that I had witnessed so many times I felt it begin to take root inside of me, like so many other seeds that had been planted by my parents, or strangers, or nature. I embraced all these seeds, all these different versions of myself, but I had a keen sense that this one bittersweet feeling would outgrow the rest.
It struck a chord in me that just felt right.
From that familiar look on the golden man's face, I suspected he knew a lot about love, and life in general, but he didn't want to tell me about it. I frowned, suspecting he thought I was too young or foolish to understand. Or maybe his knowledge was full of secrets he didn't think I could keep. I made up my mind to prove him wrong. The next time we met I would be older, and wiser, and the best secret-keeper in all the world, and he would feel so foolish for not confiding in me. But he at least offered me a piece of his heart, and accepted mine with a promise to keep it safe. A promise! I was not positive it was one he could keep, but I treasured it dearly nonetheless.
A promise is a grave thing (one of many. Adults found my gravity funny, for some reason, and I appreciated that the sun king took me seriously.) and I nodded my head sagely. “Okay.” was all I said, but it was full of gratitude and reverence.
His laughter reminded me of the ocean. When we were younger, our parents would sometimes take us to the shoreline in the evenings and the sea's song would lull us to sleep. That's what I thought of when he laughted; my smile in response was instinctive and maybe a little sad. I wanted him to always be laughing, but I did not think that was possible. Kings and queens were not allowed to remain happy. As if to prove my point, he grew serious and thoughtful. The air was heavy with the things he did not say. I could almost feel them in my lungs when I inhaled, all those unsaid words.
"But why?" I asked, because I knew if you wanted something, you had to ask for it. You weren't guaranteed an answer, but you at least had to try. Why had the desert chosen him?
How could I get the desert to choose me?
I probably asked the question too soon. If I had just been a little more patient, I would have seen for myself. First he began to glow, then the air began to warm and things were drawn to him. I watched with wide eyes my sand dollar (when had it become mine?) twist in the air and circle the stallion like something afraid and in love. "Oh." I said softly. My mane drifted toward him like we were underwater. He hurt to look at but I couldn't look away.
When the magic suddenly stopped, the king was burned into my vision. White-green-red-blue, the sun in the shape of a man. "Cool."
Then, the shape burned into my eyes said "I would rather be able to talk to the world."
It only took me a second to think about it. I grinned proudly at his words, too polite to agree and too proud to disagree. As incredible as his magic was, I wouldn't want it. I loved my magic. Even when the walls had nasty stories to tell, or the rugs tripped me in their eagerness to be heard, I loved my magic. Every bad dream and sleepless night and scraped, bruised, bloody knee, all of them a hundred times over, they were worth it. I would give everything to pour myself into the world and let it pour over me-- my body, mind, soul. I would give everything except my family.
At that thought I wavered, uncertain in the twilight. Home was behind me. Family was behind me. I slowly picked up the sand dollar and pressed it to my neck. It whispered excitedly of the king's warmth, of his gravity, and I smiled. ("I flew, like a bird, I flew!
--and then I fell")
"I should be getting home." I looked at him uncertainly. It didn't feel like an ending, but it was. At least, it was for the moment-- something told me this was just the start of our story. (Maybe that something was as simple as hope.) I figured if there ever was a time for introductions, it was then. Of course, I already knew his name. Orestes. The king carved of sunlight. News constantly streamed south on the quiet wings of huge desert birds, and although I was not interested in gossip, it was impossible to avoid at court. I knew before we even met that his eyes were blue, his skin not just golden but gilded. I had no idea about the other things though, the ones I found most captivating.
The ocean sighed as the tide receded, and it made me think of the sound of his laughter. "My name is Aspara." I still hadn't learned the nuances of farewells, so our conversation ended with a simple: "Bye bye."
I walked away with the sand dollar pressed against my neck, wondering when and where our paths would cross next. Furfur, who had been watching carefully from the bluff, jogged to side with a long, wary look behind his shoulders at the sun king. Judging. If he had any opinions on the man, he did not share them, and we walked in companionable silence into the darkening night.
@Orestes this thread was such a delight, thank you so much <3
