"Very well," growled the North Wind, and at once sent a cold, howling blast against the Traveler. With the first gust of wind the ends of the cloak whipped about the Traveler's body. But he immediately wrapped it closely around him, and the harder the Wind blew, the tighter he held it to him. The North Wind tore angrily at the cloak, but all his efforts were in vain.
Aspara is a small blessing when she says, that doesn’t surprise me. But good. My father would be very upset otherwise. It reminds Orestes, inexplicably, of his one and only encounter with Isra when she had said, the father of my children will always love the desert.
That had seemed like a lifetime ago when he, still naive and fresh from the sea, had sought to save what did not need saving. He remembers Isra’s black rage from that night—before he had learned to love Solterra, and give it his everything—and now Orestes almost understands it. Then Asterion says:
I went to meet my father—but everything I loved was here. That day on the island… before my sister’s magic failed… I was so happy, but there was still so much to be done. I never would have left on purpose.
Ariel has made a circle around them all before returning to Orestes’s side to lay, majestic and leonine, at the Sovereign’s hooves. Asterion’s words are heavy and sad and they strike within Orestes something familiar. I never would have left on purpose, he repeats in his own mind.
That is the crux of it, isn’t it? Orestes never would have left on purpose, either. It’s only by chance he arrived at Novus at all—or if not chance, then Fate. But now the Sun King cannot remember what it is he has left, or the many lives he has lived before this one, and when he tries a great emptiness opens up within him like a cavern of who he used to be yawning, yawning, yawning. Orestes opens his mouth to say something, but there is nothing to say. Asterion’s struggle is at once utterly relatable and completely distant. Orestes wonders, to himself, what those people he had abandoned—what people? who had they been—what they had thought, of his leaving. Had they felt betrayed?
And does he even have a right for his anger, his discomfort, for the way Asterion’s words strike too close to home, or against a flint prepared to strike to embers? He comments, then, on Marisol. Orestes’s brows pinch in a gesture that is almost imperceivable. “Strength can be its own kind of weakness.” It is all he will say. Belonging to something, Orestes thinks, only means one must carve pieces of themselves out to satisfy it. Is that not what he told the girl beside him now? We give pieces of ourselves away to what we love. Orestes feels heavy and he wonders if Asterion leaves him feeling so raw, so weighted, because the man is wearing Orestes's crown of thorns. He relates on a deep level with leaving. The difference had been... well, the difference had been that Orestes had never returned. He swallows, and glances away.
Orestes is relieved when Aspara draws them away from such somber topics, and Orestes glances at her with affectionate gratitude. The Sovereign manages to look properly chastised and leaves Asterion to answer the more serious questions. “M’lady, I have no excuse. It is simply difficult to get away from the Court, you see, but I will be sure it doesn’t happen again.” He winks in a playful gesture, before adding, a bit more seriously: “And of course Solterra is always open to you, Aspara. Just ask for me. Ariel would be glad to be your guide.” The Sun Lion glances at Orestes and then the girl, before reclining into a more comfortable position.
“Speech” || @
Then the Sun began to shine
At first his beams
were gentle, and in
the pleasant warmth
after the bitter cold
of the North Wind,
the Traveler
unfastened his cloak
At first his beams
were gentle, and in
the pleasant warmth
after the bitter cold
of the North Wind,
the Traveler
unfastened his cloak
