Holy water cannot help you now ►
The boy of sea and stars cannot fathom the lives of those he should come to encounter, certainly not the life of the sable-skinned man before his very eyes. How could he? His head ran only to the glittering, wet horizon where the sky melted like glossy paint into the enormity of the ocean, and his thoughts were stained by hues of gold, of green, of blue: all the colours of the shoreline. But beyond that - there was only imagination, and fantasy; his hands had, once, grasped for a handful of reality on a cool autumnal eve, venturing beyond the border Ama had drawn, only to find himself stopping short in the face of fear and uncertainty. Ossian had turned for home, never looking back. Now, however, there was no choice: beyond that border he had been forced to creep; colourless tears honouring the death of his mother, and into night's embrace he had sailed. A lonely ship in the dark.
Alone, no more.
The stranger introduces himself as Asterion, and to Ossian the name seems to hang in the brine-licked air like a spell cast from soft, stygian lips. What magic there must be in the world. And as the pair glide forward, lead by the older man, they move with an ease that sings of the oceanborne: their hooves silent against the sand and the bitter eastern wind singing in their ears; oh, Ossian knows this song, this dark soporific lullaby. As the cliffs loomed close overhead the boy heaved an abyssal sigh, as though it were the first time he had truly breathed in days - he could not help the relief that washed over him as he slipped into the murky darkness behind Asterion. Second to water, Ossian was never more at home than under the colossal weight of damp, mossy rock. At last, peace. The echo of droplets splashing from roof to floor sound from deeper within the cave, and catch Ossian's attention momentarily, before it is turned back quickly to Asterion's voice. A slow shake of his elegant angular head, spiderleg eyelashes sweeping across a highset cheekbone.
"I knew nothing of any world beyond the bay, only stories my mother told me. After..." he paused, his jaw clenching and his brilliant orange eyes clouding, "I had to leave, you see." Another sigh, sadder this time. It never occurred to him that, perhaps, he should not trust this man - that a stranger could easily turn innocence into terror - and so, he leaned closer, his voice all but a whisper. Trusting, trusting. "I do not want to be alone, Asterion"
@asterion this took an age !!!
Alone, no more.
The stranger introduces himself as Asterion, and to Ossian the name seems to hang in the brine-licked air like a spell cast from soft, stygian lips. What magic there must be in the world. And as the pair glide forward, lead by the older man, they move with an ease that sings of the oceanborne: their hooves silent against the sand and the bitter eastern wind singing in their ears; oh, Ossian knows this song, this dark soporific lullaby. As the cliffs loomed close overhead the boy heaved an abyssal sigh, as though it were the first time he had truly breathed in days - he could not help the relief that washed over him as he slipped into the murky darkness behind Asterion. Second to water, Ossian was never more at home than under the colossal weight of damp, mossy rock. At last, peace. The echo of droplets splashing from roof to floor sound from deeper within the cave, and catch Ossian's attention momentarily, before it is turned back quickly to Asterion's voice. A slow shake of his elegant angular head, spiderleg eyelashes sweeping across a highset cheekbone.
"I knew nothing of any world beyond the bay, only stories my mother told me. After..." he paused, his jaw clenching and his brilliant orange eyes clouding, "I had to leave, you see." Another sigh, sadder this time. It never occurred to him that, perhaps, he should not trust this man - that a stranger could easily turn innocence into terror - and so, he leaned closer, his voice all but a whisper. Trusting, trusting. "I do not want to be alone, Asterion"
@asterion this took an age !!!
