She does not know of the secrets that her parents whisper to one another in the night when she is asleep. She has no reason to suspect they would ever be dishonest with her. When she asks about the stars and why they shine, they tell her, when she asks about the fish in the ocean and how they can breathe beneath its surface, they tell her. Maybe if she asked about the one she calls her father, and the blind monk that sits in Denocte, maybe they would tell her.
But maybe not.
Elli skips ahead of the starry stallion, that she has called her father since she can remember, lemur on her shoulders, always hanging on tight to the little who can never stay still. She stops only when a particular flower catches her blue eyes. She finds she likes the blues and the greens, to match her dad’s glowing skin that was more comforting and more beautiful than any night light could possibly ever be. Jack holds his own flower, a white tulip, placing it behind his ear, less for his amusement and more for Elli’s.
As she places a flower in the basket he carries, she stops and looks up at him with blue eyes when he says her name. Those same eyes turn to the great eagle that stands out before them. “It must be working,” she says under her breath. She has only been alive a short time, but in the time she has, Elli has known mostly peace, and love, and joy, and tranquility. He walks away and she stares at the space he left, blinking once, twice.
A grin spreads across her face as she adds a final two flowers to the basket, as if daring him to say no. She giggles because of all the things her father has said to her, ‘no’ was hardly one for her vocabulary. “Yes, lets make something for mom, but you have to help me,” she says brightly. “She likes presents from you almost as much as she likes you, I think,” she says. She had never heard her parents say ‘I love you,’ despite the way they told her such things, but she understands little about the world right now, and even less in complicated relationships and matters of the heart.
They stop by the dancers, and Elliana watches the sway of their bodies as they frolic in flower petals and laughter. Why would she need to dance when she is already a ballerina in every step she takes? She finds a place to the side of the long rows of flowers and takes the basket from her father. “Dad,” she starts, taking the tulips and tying two together by the stems, having a flower to Jack for him to replace the one that has now since fallen off. “How did you and mom, meet?”
@Azrael <3
