in sunshine and in shadow
When the figure steps in front of him, he almost steps away as smoothly, almost fades back into the night, leaving the dream-light from the colored windows behind. But then his attention falls to her, and he realizes that she is a child, and a unicorn, and her blue eyes are fastened on him with unmistakable intensity.
Every unicorn Asterion has known still holds a particular piece of his heart - Calliope, the lioness who challenged him to wake from his idle dreaming and become something more. Thana, feral and strange, who measured him with every glance. And Isra, storyteller-queen, who could remake the world with a thought and would not shy from the need to, and yet in whose heart bloomed kindness and mercy. It only takes him one look at this one and already he’s determined not to disappoint her.
Still, her question surprises him. It even draws his smile just a little wider, but before he can reply, daylight falls across them both.
The bay stallion turns at once, head high and dark eyes cautious; he keeps his magic close enough to beckon with a thought. The sight of the lion does little to make him let it go, even as he drinks in the wonder of it, and the way it adds a filagree of gold to the arch and a sunset’s intensity to its light. But it is the man his gaze follows through his approach, walking with the same dignity and gravity as the lion, and the man’s soft greeting to the girl that convinces Asterion to let the grip on his magic go.
Now his curiosity is awake; he wants to know of both these strangers, and watch the tattoos that glow and fade and change like cinders. Certainly his sorrow has receded, a tide drawn back to wait for another moon, but he has not forgotten the girl’s question. Not even when he wrinkles his nose at being called sir. “Not if the lady says you aren’t,” he answers with a smile, and then it is dark again. He is grateful for that cover of darkness, the privacy and soft beauty of it, even if he will never forget how it looked in the light.
At last he looks back to the unicorn.
“Aspara,” he says, trying the name out, and it rolls like soft waves on his tongue. It feels like a name he already knows the weight of, and it makes him forget to be self-conscious in front of these strangers. “To your question - there are some kinds of happiness that are heavier than sorrow. And sometimes sadness, especially an old sadness, can be covered by joy, or by beauty. Even if you still feel the memory of it.” He nods toward the arch, half-smiling now, wondering how much more eloquently Eik would put it. Sometimes it had felt like a game between them, finding the words to put to their feelings to give them the truest form - though if it was then Eik had always won, and in the end the words hadn’t been necessary, anyway.
“But I’ve never been good at feeling only one thing at a time,” he finishes, and the curve of his mouth turns wry as he looks between them both. “Well met, both of you. My name is Asterion.”
@Aspara @Orestes
Every unicorn Asterion has known still holds a particular piece of his heart - Calliope, the lioness who challenged him to wake from his idle dreaming and become something more. Thana, feral and strange, who measured him with every glance. And Isra, storyteller-queen, who could remake the world with a thought and would not shy from the need to, and yet in whose heart bloomed kindness and mercy. It only takes him one look at this one and already he’s determined not to disappoint her.
Still, her question surprises him. It even draws his smile just a little wider, but before he can reply, daylight falls across them both.
The bay stallion turns at once, head high and dark eyes cautious; he keeps his magic close enough to beckon with a thought. The sight of the lion does little to make him let it go, even as he drinks in the wonder of it, and the way it adds a filagree of gold to the arch and a sunset’s intensity to its light. But it is the man his gaze follows through his approach, walking with the same dignity and gravity as the lion, and the man’s soft greeting to the girl that convinces Asterion to let the grip on his magic go.
Now his curiosity is awake; he wants to know of both these strangers, and watch the tattoos that glow and fade and change like cinders. Certainly his sorrow has receded, a tide drawn back to wait for another moon, but he has not forgotten the girl’s question. Not even when he wrinkles his nose at being called sir. “Not if the lady says you aren’t,” he answers with a smile, and then it is dark again. He is grateful for that cover of darkness, the privacy and soft beauty of it, even if he will never forget how it looked in the light.
At last he looks back to the unicorn.
“Aspara,” he says, trying the name out, and it rolls like soft waves on his tongue. It feels like a name he already knows the weight of, and it makes him forget to be self-conscious in front of these strangers. “To your question - there are some kinds of happiness that are heavier than sorrow. And sometimes sadness, especially an old sadness, can be covered by joy, or by beauty. Even if you still feel the memory of it.” He nods toward the arch, half-smiling now, wondering how much more eloquently Eik would put it. Sometimes it had felt like a game between them, finding the words to put to their feelings to give them the truest form - though if it was then Eik had always won, and in the end the words hadn’t been necessary, anyway.
“But I’ve never been good at feeling only one thing at a time,” he finishes, and the curve of his mouth turns wry as he looks between them both. “Well met, both of you. My name is Asterion.”
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