when I pretend everything is what I want it to be

I look exactly like what you had always wanted to see

Solid ground is finally beneath his feet once more. Gone are the sensations of floating, hovering upon an edge, not quite lost to the influence of gravity nor tethered to the earth below. Roland had peered far too many times over the fringes of Caela Insula and questioned the gaping distance between its foundations and the shrouded land that sprawled beneath its core. Now he could dig his hooves into soil and sand without fear of slipping through, carving too deep into the planet’s flesh. Devout as he was, the Thief held no confidence in the practice of magic, and whatever wizardry had suspended the island in the sky was beyond his comprehension.

He might have liked to stay longer, if the idea of abandoning his home for so long had not filled him with unease. Autumn was present upon every frosted breeze, ingrained in the brittle sound of falling leaves, the flight paths of birds, slicing through the cold morning air like an arrowhead as they journeyed southwards. Occasionally Roland wished he could follow them, escape the ice and snow he knew lay in wait just around the corner, desert the threat of frostbite and blizzards; but he would survive this Frostfall, just as he had the last.

There had been a number of troubling matters on his mind as of late. In an attempt to sort through his thoughts, he had decided to take the long route home, but in doing so he had never expected to stumble- quite literally- upon the answer to one of his most unsettling concerns.

It had been a while, but there was no mistaking the ragged, sterling hide of the creature standing before him, or the electric blue of its inquisitive gaze. The boy had never strayed far from Roland’s mind. He had kept an eye out for him in the Basin, hoping to find him healing, strengthening, carving out a space for himself amidst all the rock and ice. When the seasons had changed and there had still been no sign of him amongst the Basin’s desolate halls, the Thief had begun to lose hope; feared that Caneo might have strayed beyond their borders like Sia, lost to the darkness and the labyrinthine corridors of the snowy north, and that all his greatest efforts to recover the wayward had slipped away from him like handfuls of ash.

Despite the initial pang of concern, the urge to demand where the boy had been, and why he’d hidden himself away all this time where Roland could not find him, he smiled. It seemed apparent that no harm had come to Caneo, and the relief at knowing he was alive and well drowned out the confusion at having been left behind without a farewell. The Thief did not catch the silver’s question murmured to the salty air, but the curiousity was evident enough in the tense lines of his frame. With an amused smirk, Roland looked out to the stormy sea and watched the waves roll in across the gray beach. “Have you never seen the ocean?”

It was a vast and perplexing expanse, lurking on the edges of their land. The curve of the horizon was visible in the distance, cutting across the dark underbelly of the clouds until it slipped out of view behind the far-flung cliffs, stretching ever onward. Roland wondered where it led. He had heard stories during the war, told by their allies from the north who lived upon towering spires of rock that rose from the ocean. They had spoken of the salty winds and the voice of the sea, how the seabirds clung like insects to the uneven cliffs of their home and gathered oyster shells and fish fins for their nests.

“Did you forget to say goodbye?” Roland questioned then, abandoning the unnecessary niceties to approach the heart of the matter instead. There was an air of chastising to his voice, beneath the teasing, but the fond glance he slanted towards the boy only spoke of forgiveness. He knew all too well that herd life took some getting used to. Even after all these years, he is struck from time to time by the impulse to leave it behind, sever ties with what friends he has made and return to a life without responsibility, no longer reduced to the role of being another well oiled part in the machines of commerce and industry. If that was not the life Caneo wanted for himself, then the Thief would understand.