[AW] This grand show is eternal

[Asterion]

Asterion in sunshine and in shadow* It is a strange thing, Asterion’s momentary heaviness, because he has never felt it before. Always his thoughts have followed along with his feet, drifting lightly ever onward – or perhaps it was the other way around. Either way Novus is the first place he has ever felt grounded, and if he were more insightful (which is to say, more like his father) he might have considered why that is, and what it meant. Instead there is only his question, its true source as inscrutable to him as tomorrows weather, and his companion’s answer. The bay finds himself nodding along with the stallion, his small star bobbing like a bright distant ship on the sea. Feelings are what he’s been following his whole life, though his experiences at Novus are beginning to give him the nagging suspicion that one of those feelings is his own selfishness. His large dark eyes are all serious as they reflect the ocean, which in turn reflects the sunrise. “I have,” he answers, but it’s careful as he tries to parse out the particulars of it. In seeming contradiction to his nodding, he gives his head a shake, his dark hair thick and curly with salt and damp. “I mean, I’ve always felt like there’s something ahead of me, waiting – that I’ll know it when I find it. But it doesn’t seem to stay in one place. It’s always…tugging.” He doesn’t say that it might be easier, if it were centered somewhere; neither does he let his thoughts continue, because then he might think that the feeling is from himself, and not some adventure waiting for him. A Meant For, a Rightness – that is what he pursues. He is far more fearful of anchors than he is of any wind. The next question is an easier one, and the corners of his dark lips turn up. This time, when he shakes his head, it’s with a lightness that suggests laughter, and the dreamer’s gleam is back in his eye. “No current I know could bring me back,” he says, and if there is a shadow of sorrow it is only for his mother. “It was magic that brought me here.” He says magic with a boyish reverence, and does nothing to disguise his curiosity when his gaze darts again to the grey’s. Now, in the light going from rose to gold to whatever hue meant daylight, he could see a scattering of scars across his companion. It is a map that only sharpens his curiosity; there is little that Asterion loves better than heroes and knights, and he has no scars of his own. “What of you?” he asks, and all the haze of bad memories is swept under by the next murmuring wave. “Is it that feeling that brought you? Or…” he falters, not wanting to ask if it was an accident, coming here (that seemed to suggest poor direction, or lack of awareness). “When I came here, I knew I was leaving Ravos, but I didn’t know this is where I would arrive. Did you know where you were headed, when you left?”   @Eik <3 thank you! it's always good to see them. I hope you had a good one, too! excuse the novel - alarmingly this is me trying to cut the post short xD