| She finds the quiet comfortable, the movement of their bodies enough to keep them close. Occasionally a voice escapes, soft-spoken words shared between the pair. The girl tells briefly where they are, when they have crossed from Meadow to the edge of the Heart. She explains in soft tones of their time underground, whispers that once the world lived beneath the flames- cryptic comments without elaboration, soft affirmation of the truth of her life. Mostly, she is happy to walk alongside him, the light of her necklace embracing them both. Sidelong glances are stolen at times, dark eyes examining for betrayal of thoughts. Sometimes she wonders what he might think of her, if he thinks her a liar, a phantom, a child. When thoughts start to threaten the peace of the moment, her brother is quick to distract and derail.
They walk by the river, following its trail, and her breath rises heavy in the quickly chilled air. She is cold now, she realizes, colder than even her bright sparks could cure; she wishes that soon the sun might rise, but does not tell her companion so, unwilling to invite his disdain of the day. Her brother has long since climbed onto her back, using the tangle of tail as a ladder; he lies there, unmoving, drowsing through the night, only stirring to wakefulness when they stop near the mouth of the sea. Before them stretches the path to the Veins, and above, high above, the Island drops shadows on all who wander beneath. Cold light of lava scars black, broken stone- "The Gods live in the veins." She turns to her friend, black gaze on his face. "But lately, I think, they are found on the island... Her voice trails away as she returns to the hovering dish in the sky, wondering whether they will answer or not- wondering if She will answer or not. Trepidation rises in the girl's narrow breast; would it not have been better if they'd sought out the Earth?
Don't be afraid, her black brother purrs, shifting to lick at the bony bronze withers. She frowns - I am not! - and proves it with another step, a long stride upon the narrow trail outlined by sea and fire and strength. How many times has she traveled this path? So many, she thinks, though the most recent memories are upsetting and strong. Her body remembers each dip and each step, recalls where to lift and where to step aside; she hopes Caneo will not struggle with the landbridge, that his footing is sure as they wind up the hill.
It is only when they reach the clouds who wait to lift them into the sky that she stops again, turning to survey the boy, a foolish smile bright on her face. "We have to fly," she tells him, breathless, black eyes vibrant in the pre-dawn light. This, she knows, is her favorite part, and she is suddenly eager to share it with him, though part of her doubts he will love it as she. Striped hooves step dainty onto a cloud, a shiver running through her as it takes solid form; she waits for him, impatient, before willing herself to fly.
Up and into the frigid air; the trip is too short, and concludes too soon, for the copper child to fully deflate. She grins at the boy, awaiting his judgment, wondering what he'll make of the edge of the world. Beyond them, Helovia stretches into forever, a dense field of forests, the glow of the Throat, and snow covered peaks which encroach on the land as winter begins to sink in hungry claws. Jealousy bites her as she wishes she could fly, envy again of a pegasus' wings; how marvelous, how perfect, to see the world from above! For a moment she forgets their purpose in this place, so brightly alight is she with the delight of ascent. Slashed face is broken into dizzying smile; she bumps against Caneo, playful and glad, waiting for him to direct them on adventures in the sky.
THE FIREDANCER
for it was I who walked among the falling stars, and did not burn | |
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