05-28-2018, 09:45 AM
Belgaer
She is, undoubtedly, Tephran. The glisten of her eyes as they rested upon the scenery that surrounded them filled him with envy. Gentle eyes find his winged figure staring and he blushes as he pulls his gaze away. Her thoughtful smile is not lost on him, however, and he finds himself mirroring her expression. Admittedly, the sooty mare was not what he’d imagined when he’d dreamt upon those who dwelt in the shadow of the volcano. He was almost ashamed to admit to himself the wanderings of his boyish mind, even more so to realize that he still held onto those long-ago daydreams. Watching him through his peripherals, however, he could not help but be drawn to the soft lines of her face. Like him, he guessed she was geared more towards diplomacy than brutality – her eyes were too kind and welcoming to belong to a warrior. A far cry from the warrior people he’d once imagined to reside within the borders of Tephra.
The feathers upon his back blew absently as the heat laden wind brushed along the length of him. The ground beneath his hooves almost seemed to rumble as the force of the mountain moved just beneath the earth’s crust. Constantly shifting, ever changing he imagined the fearlessness required to trust that the lava would not steal away the land completely. Absently, Belgaer stepped closer to his new companion, intent on hearing her words as she spoke.
“I always though that the people here were the strongest in all of Beqanna,” he admitted as a means to answer her question. Vague though it is, it’s the only response that felt appropriate.
He listens raptly, enjoying the soft lilting of her voice as she spoke. Gentleness refined by fire. The glow of the lava basks her dark coat in it’s beautiful glow and, for a moment, he imagined how she might look bathed in blue. Something buried deep within him stirred and, for a moment, he feels a warmth that had been absent from his life for a great while. Startled he forces his feelings away and makes a study of her words as they fall past the soft velvet of her lips. It was almost too easy to forget the face he had originally hoped to find hidden amongst the half- burn land. Josie.
“I should have,” he agrees distractedly, his smile remains despite the seriousness of his thoughts. “It truly is the most beautiful sight I have ever beheld.”
It is easy to agree with her. Her easy manner begged him to accept her offer of a tour, even though he had numerous duties to attend to. Distractedly he catches himself glancing back towards his island home. The time to return home would soon be upon him and a familiar heaviness returned upon his back. He exhaled.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he adverted his gaze. “I would love to, but I’m afraid my return home is overdue.”
Approval was heavy on his tongue as his desire to stay caught him off guard. The depths of her eyes pulled him in and it startled him to realize how easy it would be to submit to their power – to stay there, far away from the loyalty he had for his father. And, yet, he hardly knew her. Perhaps that was the appeal. His name was nothing but a name, detached from weight that it carried. He was not a prince in her presence and it was freeing to feel like himself, even if for a moment.
“My name is Belgaer,” he offered to her graciously. “It truly was a pleasure to have met you here…” His voice trailed off as he realized that he did not know her name, but he desired to.
The feathers upon his back blew absently as the heat laden wind brushed along the length of him. The ground beneath his hooves almost seemed to rumble as the force of the mountain moved just beneath the earth’s crust. Constantly shifting, ever changing he imagined the fearlessness required to trust that the lava would not steal away the land completely. Absently, Belgaer stepped closer to his new companion, intent on hearing her words as she spoke.
“I always though that the people here were the strongest in all of Beqanna,” he admitted as a means to answer her question. Vague though it is, it’s the only response that felt appropriate.
He listens raptly, enjoying the soft lilting of her voice as she spoke. Gentleness refined by fire. The glow of the lava basks her dark coat in it’s beautiful glow and, for a moment, he imagined how she might look bathed in blue. Something buried deep within him stirred and, for a moment, he feels a warmth that had been absent from his life for a great while. Startled he forces his feelings away and makes a study of her words as they fall past the soft velvet of her lips. It was almost too easy to forget the face he had originally hoped to find hidden amongst the half- burn land. Josie.
“I should have,” he agrees distractedly, his smile remains despite the seriousness of his thoughts. “It truly is the most beautiful sight I have ever beheld.”
It is easy to agree with her. Her easy manner begged him to accept her offer of a tour, even though he had numerous duties to attend to. Distractedly he catches himself glancing back towards his island home. The time to return home would soon be upon him and a familiar heaviness returned upon his back. He exhaled.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he adverted his gaze. “I would love to, but I’m afraid my return home is overdue.”
Approval was heavy on his tongue as his desire to stay caught him off guard. The depths of her eyes pulled him in and it startled him to realize how easy it would be to submit to their power – to stay there, far away from the loyalty he had for his father. And, yet, he hardly knew her. Perhaps that was the appeal. His name was nothing but a name, detached from weight that it carried. He was not a prince in her presence and it was freeing to feel like himself, even if for a moment.
“My name is Belgaer,” he offered to her graciously. “It truly was a pleasure to have met you here…” His voice trailed off as he realized that he did not know her name, but he desired to.
The Prodigal Son