azrael
It pleased him to see the girl relaxing now, her heart beating more quietly as warmth returned to her face. While he couldn’t claim to know what plagued her, he knew enough to assess her fear, and to wonder. No one was without their demons.
Azrael’s upbringing had been one which would be foreign by most standards. While Elena was born into a warm and loving family, Azrael’s rearing was wholly as one of the Tribe. He had a mother, of course – a father too… but when a shed-star was born, the child was raised in a communal manner. He had never known his mother, only that she was one of the Tribe, and that the Tribe cared for their own.
Still, there were happy times in his youth. He’d learned to read the stars, to listen to the whisper of the wind, to follow the cards, to worship the midnight moon. Then, the stars had blinked out one by one – as it had been foretold – and the People had come to this place, where they could watch the heavens once more. Here, the Stars were flung to the wind. Some stayed, some went. Some sold their stardust trinkets or whispered fortunes in silken tents. But all continued to delight in the night.
“There is great power in the darkness, it’s true… but you need not shy from the night. For only in the darkness can you see the stars.”
The scent of her is different now, with the fear subsiding. Now, he catches a lingering air of healing herbs and summer rain. His unusual turquoise eyes find hers of sky blue, holding for a moment before he turns away, back to his stars once more. “They say the People are descended from the stars themselves,” he offers easily, clearly not finding the question a silly one. “but I know my mother’s blood ran red, just as her mother’s before.” It was a beautifully poetic thing to wonder though, for he would have quite enjoyed being a star.
“And you, Elena… you are not from this place.” It was clear she was a creature born for the golden light of day – a contrast he would not fault her for. “The stardust suits you though… more than you know.” It was as close to flattery as the peculiar stallion could offer, never fitting well into social convention.
He stepped away from her, taking one step toward the mountains, then a second. “Come with me,” he offered matter-of-factly, an easy smile resting on his lips. While the question in his voice could be alarming coming from a stranger, there is a warmth to the way he watches her – protective and gentle. “Let me show you my Dark – you’ll see there’s nothing to fear of it.”
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