We'll leave this empty room, into the air we'll climb
She nestled atop his back, clung to it. He could feel the fear in her bodice when she clambered atop his back. Aeranas did not dare move until he was sure she was secure, he would not lose her to the sea. No matter how dear a friend the sea was, she would not take something from him that he did not give her. His heart shattered when he felt her body begin to tremble with sobs. He understood. The ghost did not stop his movements until they were both back upon the shore until they were both cold and numb with exhaustion. Aeranas felt her slide off of his back when they reached the firm ground. The stranger stumbled unsteadily, he reached out to instinctively steady her. The bird made of storms righted herself, but she was shaken. Her wings drooped at her sides, and she appeared forlorn. Tired. The expression was carved into her face, but she was breathing and walking. Relief flooded through Aerie, long enough for him to forget that his fur was freezing, as were the creases of the scarf that was securely fastened around his nape. The ghost peered down at her when she craned her neck to peer up at his shivering form. Words of thanks rushed from her mouth, they too were sad. Aeranas still found himself worried about her.
There was something unusual about the encounter, about her half-hearted fight with the winter sea. The ghost grew suspicious of her actions, or rather inactions. These thoughts were kept quiet, they could be pulled from his vast pools of memory. The ghost tried hard not to forget. Seawater slipped from her maw when she apologized, and he again instinctively reached out with his muzzle to brush it away. Doting. Aeranas was attentive, he wanted to reassure her that she was no burden to him. He was relieved that he was there to help her. The storyteller was at a loss for words, momentarily, his jaw felt as frozen as the rocks bound with ice. He shivered violently in the breeze, the sea was not ready to forgive him yet. Aeranas moved towards her, he seemed to keep himself in between her and the sea. As if the sea would rise up in retribution for his good deed. To reclaim her prey. The bird made of storms introduced herself as Ismene. Still, the ghost could not speak, he could only haunt her trail back towards her satchel. Ismene settled more and more as the time dragged on, he was still riding the adrenaline he had used to weather the cold maw of the sea. His face ached from the cold, and yet he persisted. He pried his lips apart, they had frozen shut when he emerged from the sea. She thanked him again, but he didn't want her to thank him.
Yet, he understood. "You are no burden, I do not need an apology. I would leap into the sea again without a second thought for you. I am relieved that you are okay... Ismene, are you okay?" Aerie could not keep the gnawing question from his mind any longer. He worried for her still, and his worries would not rest until he asked. The wonder he often found in life, that inspired his poetry, was absent. It was replaced with concern. Ismene peered up at him, she studied him. He could feel it. The ghost did not try to vanish before her eyes, no, he wanted to embrace this stranger to convey how relieved he was. Aeranas moved again, toward her to embrace her if she would not pull away. They could find shelter after. "Please be careful, you are a precious treasure, Ismene. You are the bird made of storms, the one who is daring but not invincible." He whispered to her gently, but they came out in sobs. Aeranas could not help it, his emotions caught up with him. He was not numb, and he ached to crawl back into the safety of that numbness.
Aeranas pulled back and peered down at Ismene. His tears began to subside, and he cast a glance away from his new companion. "I'm Aerie. We should get out of the cold. This way." He offered her, with a nod of his head. The maw of a cavern still hung slack from the cliff above. He had stopped inside the caves along the shore when the snow had gotten bad between Delumine and Terrastella.
There was something unusual about the encounter, about her half-hearted fight with the winter sea. The ghost grew suspicious of her actions, or rather inactions. These thoughts were kept quiet, they could be pulled from his vast pools of memory. The ghost tried hard not to forget. Seawater slipped from her maw when she apologized, and he again instinctively reached out with his muzzle to brush it away. Doting. Aeranas was attentive, he wanted to reassure her that she was no burden to him. He was relieved that he was there to help her. The storyteller was at a loss for words, momentarily, his jaw felt as frozen as the rocks bound with ice. He shivered violently in the breeze, the sea was not ready to forgive him yet. Aeranas moved towards her, he seemed to keep himself in between her and the sea. As if the sea would rise up in retribution for his good deed. To reclaim her prey. The bird made of storms introduced herself as Ismene. Still, the ghost could not speak, he could only haunt her trail back towards her satchel. Ismene settled more and more as the time dragged on, he was still riding the adrenaline he had used to weather the cold maw of the sea. His face ached from the cold, and yet he persisted. He pried his lips apart, they had frozen shut when he emerged from the sea. She thanked him again, but he didn't want her to thank him.
Yet, he understood. "You are no burden, I do not need an apology. I would leap into the sea again without a second thought for you. I am relieved that you are okay... Ismene, are you okay?" Aerie could not keep the gnawing question from his mind any longer. He worried for her still, and his worries would not rest until he asked. The wonder he often found in life, that inspired his poetry, was absent. It was replaced with concern. Ismene peered up at him, she studied him. He could feel it. The ghost did not try to vanish before her eyes, no, he wanted to embrace this stranger to convey how relieved he was. Aeranas moved again, toward her to embrace her if she would not pull away. They could find shelter after. "Please be careful, you are a precious treasure, Ismene. You are the bird made of storms, the one who is daring but not invincible." He whispered to her gently, but they came out in sobs. Aeranas could not help it, his emotions caught up with him. He was not numb, and he ached to crawl back into the safety of that numbness.
Aeranas pulled back and peered down at Ismene. His tears began to subside, and he cast a glance away from his new companion. "I'm Aerie. We should get out of the cold. This way." He offered her, with a nod of his head. The maw of a cavern still hung slack from the cliff above. He had stopped inside the caves along the shore when the snow had gotten bad between Delumine and Terrastella.
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