[AW] Skymail, pt. 2

[Asterion]

Asterion in sunshine and in shadow*   He is not sleeping when the messenger comes to his door; dreams have evaded him of late, and Asterion has never rested in the castle the way he once did, bedding down beneath the willows or in the open fields. A letter, they tell him, borne by a barn owl, and already the bay is walking with them to the courtyard. He knows who the letter is from; though he has never met her himself, Cirrus has told him of Alba from her own brief time in the Dawn capitol. When he sees the bird he greets her with a nicker, and takes the letter with his heart in his throat. As he reads it falls and falls, a sinking stone; somehow, in his foolishness and hope, he had thought the worst was over for all those suffering in Novus. He does not look up until he is finished. “Bring me Atreus,” he says, soft but firm (he is not as unused to the tone of command as he once was) “and Israel and Theodosia, if they are able.” Before the sound of the messenger’s hooves has faded, Asterion is bent over a piece of parchment, writing in a tight and slanting scrawl. He has come a long way since those scant lessons with Isorath, but his words still fall far short of the grace of Isra’s, or the broad chivalry of Somnus’. King Somnus, the Fair-Hearted, I am sending our Champion of Healing, a man well-tested and found true in these last few weeks. He needs only to gather his materials, and then should not be far behind your Alba, once she has had what rest she needs. With him may come a few others, bearing salve for burns and seeds from our storehouses for replanting what has been lost. Please, make use of them however and for however long you will. The only payment I hope for is to someday meet your son, well and whole. In the meantime my thoughts are with you, and I hope the gods are as well. May we speak again soon, and then of good news — Asterion When he is finished - and there are only a few ink-blots marking the page - he looks to the owl, the pale moon of her face, the liquid eyes dark as a starless night. “When you are rested, and fed,” he says, “I will give you this. Thank you, Alba - I’m sure you would rather not be so far from him.” Even so, he is sure that the owl, like Cirrus, is glad to do whatever she can for the man she shares a bond with. By this time the others have arrived, and he looks to them in the warm dawn light. The birds are only just beginning to sing, and the stones of the castle gleam like pearls, and Asterion is proud and sorry for all the things his people have been through. “King Somnus’s son is sick, and I would have you go,” he says, his dark eyes on Atreus. He tells him what symptoms the letter mentioned, his voice only loud enough for those he gathered to hear. “I know you are weary, and I know our own court is only just beginning to recover, but we must help as best we can.” Now his eyes turn toward the others, to the Halcyon cadet and Israfel. “I don’t think the journey will be dangerous, but these are strange times. If you can, if you would, accompany Atreus to Delumine. We will send with you salves and seeds and other things they may need.” “As soon as you are able, go, and the winds be with you.” Absent is the name of their goddess, the mention of any of the deities; Asterion would not invoke them, not when he still isn’t sure whose purpose they serve. Thank you, thank you, thank you, his gaze says to them each. @Somnus @Atreus @Theodosia @Israfel (tagging the last two only if you're interested!)