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11-02-2013, 12:54 PM
Where are you from, Kostya?
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I followed the faint smell of salt west from Thistle Meadow as though I had made the journey a hundred times before, head low and gait almost mechanically smooth in timeless migratory fashion. This was not new to me; blocking out an entire new world rich with people to meet and strange things to see, however, probably was. When next I looked up, it was upon a wide stretch of golden sand with the uninterrupted blue of ocean beyond.
It wasn’t home – not even close – but there is something about the sea that welcomes you all the same.
Perhaps I was a bit homesick after meeting Ranjiri, but I’d never belonged on the lost islands any more than I’d belonged in the foothills of Delphi or the jungles of Ferraden. Curious might have been a better word, then. What had become of Nascha and Naira, of Dante, and all those others that had wandered out of our lives as easily as they had wandered in? What had become of our parents? Had they surrendered to the ocean’s icy embrace like their fathers before them?
I supposed they hadn’t; some people say you would feel that sort of thing, or whatever. I didn’t feel any more like an orphan now than I had on the night of my birth.
Wandering this new beach, I find my thoughts drifting toward the not quite so distant past: toward angels and demons and the rotted out skeletons of vanquished civilizations. I had never fancied Nocturne as a place to settle. It was a place to catch our breath, to rest travel-weary hooves, and then I knew we would leave just as we had.
I had not expected us to leave again with company, or with baggage.
But that’s life, isn’t it?
I followed the faint smell of salt west from Thistle Meadow as though I had made the journey a hundred times before, head low and gait almost mechanically smooth in timeless migratory fashion. This was not new to me; blocking out an entire new world rich with people to meet and strange things to see, however, probably was. When next I looked up, it was upon a wide stretch of golden sand with the uninterrupted blue of ocean beyond.
It wasn’t home – not even close – but there is something about the sea that welcomes you all the same.
Perhaps I was a bit homesick after meeting Ranjiri, but I’d never belonged on the lost islands any more than I’d belonged in the foothills of Delphi or the jungles of Ferraden. Curious might have been a better word, then. What had become of Nascha and Naira, of Dante, and all those others that had wandered out of our lives as easily as they had wandered in? What had become of our parents? Had they surrendered to the ocean’s icy embrace like their fathers before them?
I supposed they hadn’t; some people say you would feel that sort of thing, or whatever. I didn’t feel any more like an orphan now than I had on the night of my birth.
Wandering this new beach, I find my thoughts drifting toward the not quite so distant past: toward angels and demons and the rotted out skeletons of vanquished civilizations. I had never fancied Nocturne as a place to settle. It was a place to catch our breath, to rest travel-weary hooves, and then I knew we would leave just as we had.
I had not expected us to leave again with company, or with baggage.
But that’s life, isn’t it?
