love is my religion. i could die for that.
The rest of the world passes Aegean by—bloodshed and love and hate—and he barely feels the ripples of it. Sure, he can see the smoke that billows out of Tephra (at this point, everyone can, he thinks), and he hears the whispers of a war. He hears of the prisoner turned magician turned Queen who refused to bend any longer; of the justice and injustice spilled from her hands, the grey world she immersed herself in. He hears of Loess and their rambunctious, mischievous way of stirring the pot, keeping the world on edge.
He hears of the stories and finds them fascinating, but they leave no imprint.
So much of his life has left no imprint.
It is why he feels little sadness when he leaves Silver Cove. His mothers have long since moved on, and he does not feel them in his dreams any longer. Silver Cove was never his home (has he had a home?) and it does not pain him to pick up the roots when they have not yet clung to the earth.
Instead, he makes his way toward Hyaline.
He finds his way there as the young woman gets up and begins speaking. Perhaps she sees some of his mothers in him or some of his older brother, but he just watches quietly, his handsome face drawn up in soft feminine lines and harsh masculine planes. His purple eyes remain steady and quiet and the light around him pulses lightly, casting a milky glow on the floor around him. When she finishes talking, he just angles his head, a corner of an ivory velvet lip pulling upward into a dreamy smile.
“A noble cause and a worthy calling.” He casts his glance to the other stallion near him before bringing his attention back to the mare. “I would very much like to be part of it, if you would have me.”
He pauses for a second before he laughs softly under his breath.
“Oh, my name is Aegean.”
i could die for you.