There are pieces of him that want to explore more. Pieces of him that want to continue moving beyond the borders that he has so clearly defined in the youth of his life. He has heard so many stories of the common lands and kingdoms. Of the smoking ice in the north, of the wild cliffs of Nerine, of the tide pools of Ischia. They all swirl around in his youthful head—leaving him aching for the kind of world that spreads so wide.
But he does not do it.
He stays close to Tephra and finds solace in his dreams every night. Finds that he takes comfort in the way that his own thoughts keep him company when his sister is not there. When his fathers are away.
Today though, it is not enough.
Today, he wakes and turns his amethyst gaze to the horizon where it lingers. He feels something stir in his gut that feels like courage and he holds onto it tight. Holds onto it enough that he finally peels away from the volcanic land and move toward the places that lay beyond. The places that he dreams of.
His heart thrums in his chest with every step. Pounding as he steps across the rivers and streams and the air becomes drier, the ground harder. He moves through the place where two forests blend—the redwoods of Taiga and the hickory of Sylva—before he comes to Loess. This place is vast and he finds that he feels vulnerable, soft and glowing, against the backdrop of its wide open plains. He moves quickly.
It blends again into a new forest and he catches his breath. Stands there with his nerves on fire, his heart fit to explode in his chest. His eyes widen slightly as he tucks his nose into his chest. His travels had taken him most of the day and he knew that night was falling. Perhaps he had not thought this completely through, he thinks, as he realizes that he would likely need to spend the night here before returning.
The thought exhilarates him in the same breath that it terrifies him.
