even after they have been stepped on
There was moonlight streaming in through the windows when he woke.
For a while he lay there, chest heaving, heart stuttering like a dying thing, watching the way the curtains drifted sideways in the breeze. A shiver went down his spine, cold sweat darkening his coat. He could hear a loon wailing, somewhere in the darkness beyond his rooms; and then only silence. His heart was thud, thud, thudding, achingly long, counting out the long seconds that passed.
There was no partner calling out the second half of its tune, no echoing cry to let them know they were not alone.
He rose on shaky legs, and it seemed to him that it took an eternity to cross the small expanse of his room. Leaning against the cool frame, he lifted his head to the sky where a full moon stared back at him, unblinking, unyielding, its light drowning out that of the stars. Its light seemed weaker here, somehow; and distantly he wondered if Caligo had given preference to Denocte, to light their city streets at night.
Ipomoea was drawing the glass pane closed when the loon cried again. The agony in its voice reverberated throughout him, his heart clenching in time with its rise and fall. It seemed, for a moment, as he leaned out the window and stared at the shadows lingering between the trees - that the call was meant for him.
He brushed the thought off quickly, snapping the window shut with a resolved thud.
And yet…
His bed no longer felt quite so warm, and he lay there endlessly staring towards the window, ears straining to hear the muted call still echoing through the night.
As sleep continued to evade him he rose again and lit a lantern, its flame casting feeble light around the room. Shivering from the cold sweat still beading along his skin, his heart still palpitating wildly, he began to walk.
The rest of the castle was quiet, as if spellbound. As the sovereign strode down the halls there was no one stepping in his path to stop him, no one calling his name from behind him, no one to see, or hear, or care, or bear witness -
Dew wet his hooves when he stepped outside, wishing for a half-second that he had thought to bring a robe with him. The midnight breeze was cool against his skin, whisking away the last of his night sweats as he paced the courtyard, slipping down hidden pathways in the garden. Flowers opened as he passed, lifting their sleepy petals in welcome, before bowing their heads to slumber once more as he continued past.
Perhaps if he had been paying attention to the tangled pathways, or had he perhaps been looking for something tangible, he might have thought it odd then to find himself on a trail he did not recognize, leading from the courtyard. As it was, he only pressed on eagerly as the roots grew more wild and overgrown, weeds sprouting up along the unused path. The trees leaned in around, branches scratching together overhead, casting long shadows across his back. And the loon called again, low and furtive, before-
The path opened up around a small pond, its surface glassy and still, unbroken.
He drew forward slowly, staring down at his and the moon’s reflection in silence. And his heart continued to thud, thud, thud inside of him, each beat loud, and painful, and as melancholic as the night bird’s song, drowning out the quiet of the clearing around him.
@Mesnyi
"Speaking."
