I
sorath would of likened the experience to having stepped foot within a lair of a Dragon, to those who were not familiar with such simple pleasures he'd had the luxury of being birthed too. Out of depth, adrift in starlit waters without the shore in sight, hoping that a figure composed of moonbeams and stardust would show them the way. Asterion is not the first, and he certainly will not be last, who come into these hallowed halls beguiled and hesitant. A musical note escaped the ethereal man when Asterion finally stepped in, a pleased and pleasant hum low in his throat. Momentarily, his attention moved toward the tea pot and the engraved cups beside it. The day he had planned is clearly delayed, if not pushed out of the books all together. Not unpleasant, of course, it's an interesting turn of events. It's his duty, if anything else, to educate those who wished to indulge in their wants and whims. "Sit, I insist. It will be far more comfortable for you, and my neck." Again, gilded talons twitched from where they curled around his breast, gesturing to the pillows, smirk still delicately placed upon his sharp features.
Ah, now that was a truth best left undiscovered until the sun dipped low on the horizon, with the last wisps on incense exhaled into the air. To be discovered by those bold and brave.
There is beauty in simplicity, and just a careful dab of something more. The kirin has a fine eye for such things, whose gods have spun them not with divine purpose, but to be divinity made real. Made simple, comprehensible. The ones that can part the veil and dwell among the rest.
If you'd have me.
The sound of tea being poured halted momentarily, as the Sage considered the weight of those words. Dangerous words. But here they are simple, straight forward. Innocent. There are no hidden meanings, and they are certainly not two lovers between a full moon. "Of course, why wouldn't I?" The tea is resumed, and he fussed over it with the same care he would if handling porcelain. Yet, his gaze remained on the honey brows, a flicker of mischief burning in their jeweled facets. "We'll have you reading like a Sage in no time." It was interesting how fate spun her threads, Isorath has flown too close to the sun and been beloved by it, crowned in it's ethereal flames.
Then each time he'd fallen back to earth a burning star. Many could not blame him if he chose to stand beneath the brilliance of the throne, rather than find himself curled upon it, for now. For now, he bends his neck and flutters his startling white lashes at the behest of others, but only those he found worthy.
@Asterion
