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S A O I R S E
The boy’s ears pressed forwards, his eyes track the flame that dances across the golden body. Eyes lost in the God’s gaze, as the topic of Kaos unravels unabated. Saoirse is not familiar with their Sultana. Important perhaps, though just as faceless as the strangers that stretched throughout the Throat – no emotional ties other than the ones that knitted his soul to the land itself.
Instead of worry over the adult’s departure, she has been sent with a task that is given in confidence. And the boy is reminded by the Sun God’s certainty, his plans, his suggestions, as though there is no other way to think otherwise. Holding his breath, he lets out the air from his lungs in reprieve. Quietly, slowly, until he can breathe in fresh air and absorb the comfort that he has placed in his deity.
Briefly, he offers his gaze up to the black titan of the sands. There he spots Vezér, the girl with the dagger and strange, webbed markings.
‘Does that make her a princess then?’ He wonders. But the boy’s thoughts quickly scramble back to Volterra, recognizing that the Sun God awarded those with due diligence.
He finds himself being drawn back to the God on command. He lives and breathes in his words, hoping, praying they will fill him with its necessary courage. The boy wants to be like their mighty warriors, he wants to learn - learn as much as I can.
Could he press the nightmares back, and save his soft and malleable soul for the herd? He began to think he could, that he would because he found love for his home. And he would not let it rot and suffer willingly like his absent mother.
But of course words did nothing. They were meaningless without action, however pure they began – he was living it. The boy only sets his belief in the Sun God. And with a giddy, hopeful twist in his soul he joined the Mother of Companions, and the Indomitable in patriotic worship.
