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For the first hour, he had run.
Breaths became labored, though every gasping shudder of his lungs was fiercely ignored. Alabaster hind legs drove him forth faster and harder than he had ever run before. Arabian lines from his mother brought him stamina that he had never tested, from his father strength of body that thrust him forth at speeds even he, a coltish and mischievous soul, would consider reckless and dangerous. It had been quite a while since sweat had drenched cinnamon and blood coat into a dark mahogany, since foam had flecked and accumulated on his flanks and the arch of his neck and shoulders. Once he had finally realized he could run no more he had stopped, knees shaking so badly he feared he would collapse. From that point he had walked, numb. Letting the sweat cool uncomfortably on his skin. He wished to hurt himself more than the soreness he was sure to experience, but his heart was already torn in pieces. What worse pain could there be?
He had to leave. Leave the Basin. Already he had drenched himself in every body of water he could find, had rubbed his bodice along sweetly scented flowers, grasses, trees. Anything to rid the scent of Phaedra from his skin- a process that hurt him, but one that he knew was necessary. Leaving the Basin was even worse. He still hoped, deep in his heart, that Mauja would return. And Faelene, the sister he loved so dearly. Would she be targeted, pressed for information, simply because they were close? It would kill him to have to leave her, the first soul to ever extend guidance and love to him in Helovia. He loved her as much as he loved Phaedra, though in completely different ways. Heart sank further when he thought of someone he had not even considered until that moment. Zikar-Sin. Tolio had, upon their first meeting, merely thought the stallion was adorable and quirky. But somehow he had grown, unnoticed, in his heart. Whether the man returned his surprising affections or not was unknown, but it only added to the agony that was weighing in on him. Would he never even have the chance to see it take off? To wonder if they could ever see each other again?
Frigid lands greeted him as he waited in the Steppe. The lands he had lived in for so long with Faelene and Mauja. Harsh winds tugged at crimson locks, tainted only by a stripe of white. Throat was clogged but he tilted crown heavenward anyways and sang out for his sister. He needed her, not only for her stability but to tell her that she would no longer be able to offer it to him. He would not be leaving immediately, no. He would trust only Faelene with this information, though he regretted dragging her into it already. Tolio had to make it so that when he did leave, he disappeared. Without a trace. He could not risk his brethren following him or tracking him down. It seemed that with every encounter, one tear slipped down his cheek. This one was shed and whipped away by the violent winds. Tolio was grateful for them, for they kept him alert and would shield the ensuing conversation from prying eyes and ears.
I’m signing my contract, come help me seal it in blood.
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Kissing You Goodbye For Tomorrow's Departure | Faelene
