azrael
The island. Azrael does not remember coming here, but perhaps it’s just as well. As he stands in this place of shadow and stardust, he wonders what it all means. It was a world that even in his dreamscape, Azrael could not have imagined existed. And if this were a magic, it was a beautiful one that he never wanted to end. If he could, the astral creature would stay forever in the cloak of midnight and the cover of stardust. For without wings, he could never reach the stars this close – close enough to caress and dance among them. Close enough to want for more.
If the monk is brusque with him, Azrael does not notice (or simply does not let it bother him). His gaze rests on the moon-shaped mark on Tenebrae's shoulder, not fully knowing it’s meaning, but expecting it to be some allegiance to Caligo. Perhaps this is why he feels drawn toward the stranger. Perhaps this is what makes them brothers, even if the term is one usually reserved for endearment. After all, the People were cut from Caligo’s cloth, just as the Order was avowed to protect it. They were simply two sides to the same coin.
“Tempus…” of course, it was a name he’d heard before – spoken by the elders around the fire – in the same way the future had been foretold. As a child, he’d heard the tales – of the shunned sister who had birthed the night – who had given rise to the Stars themselves. “But why?” He questioned. “Why now?” For surely there was a reason for the island to rise from the sea. Surely there was a reason that it changed so, never making up its mind, conflicted and lost.
He rose, gathering his dreamcatcher staff and pacing at the edge of the water. “Would it not be all of our first time here, if in fact the magic is ever evolving? I cannot say whether I have been to this place before, or even how I got here now.” His question is an incredulous murmur, as if he forgot that the second male even stood beside him, too lost in his own thoughts at the possibility. In truth, he remembered only the festival, the quiet whispers with Elena, the thief in the night… Azrael could only assume it was the dream that took him here, to the place of his deepest desire and love. Here, without even the wind to steal away the touch of stardust, he felt most at peace.
“What was this place, before?” His curiosity is piqued now as he watches the pale stranger, wondering if he could peel away the shroud of mystery surrounding Tempus’ creation. The island had to have more secrets than it told. It had to have a reason to emerge, after being lost for so long –
And if he had to guess, the ‘why’ could have far-reaching implications for them all.
@Tenebrae
