A lover not a fighter on the frontline with a poem
trying to write yourself a rifle, maybe sharpen up a song
to fight the tanks and drones of you being alone
It had been nearly three years since he'd arrived in the threshold of Helovia. Three years. And he'd done nothing useful. In fact, he's probably done more harm than good since he arrived and that just wasn't like him. He'd harmed Alysanne, not on purpose, but he had done so. They'd had a child together and now? He's just as absent in Naerys' life as he had been in Nathanael and Barakiel's lives. Despite all of that, however, he can't entirely regret everything he's ever done. He can't bring himself to regret coming to Helovia or, for that matter, meeting December. The grey mare heated his blood and breathed life into his dead and useless veins. She'd given him purpose and set his soul on fire. Just her mere existence makes him want to be better, to do something good. He's tired of waiting around. Tired of his talents being wasted away because he's the stranger or because he isn't good enough to heal the wounds of his king.
Tall and lean, he shifts abruptly into an easy lope before spreading his massive wings and thrusting them downward to propel himself into the sky. Eliana followed suit, leaping from a nearby tree. The two gain altitude then after a brief circle around the Hidden Falls, they head west and slightly south towards the coast. 'Not north?' Eliana's confused but surprised voice in his mind nearly startles him which only served to amuse the zephyr. "Not today, Ellie. No need." he answers her out loud, chuckling softly to himself. They both knew why because they both knew where December was, and she wasn't north. They fly strong, sturdy; soaring on air currents every chance they get until their muscles burn from the effort and the sandy shores of the coast become visible below. Circling out over the ocean, they turn back to the east before they swoop down for a gentle and rather graceful landing. A landing that transitioned easily into a lope. Eliana, however, aimed herself to land upon his shoulders - her claws gently biting into his flesh.
Tucking his white wings against his sides, he slows himself to a steady walk as he enters the trees once more. It isn't long before the beautiful structure is within sight. He'd been here before. Here, in the ancient rotunda, were some of his fondest memories. Eliana had hatched beneath the colored glass of the rotunda's roof and he'd actually helped some strangers here. Perhaps that was why he'd returned. Every ounce of him hoped that maybe there'd be someone new near this beautiful structure that needed help that he could provide.
As the pair moved closer, they saw - rather delightedly - that the Rotunda wasn't empty today. Picking his way carefully through the underbrush, he slipped into the clearing surrounding the ancient structure. His blue gaze locked onto the stranger, though he quickly realized he'd seen this stallion before. For the life of him, though, he couldn't remember his name. 'Not injured.' Eliana pointed out, not even trying to hide her disappointment. Miykael snorted at her, a gentle warning. Helping strangers wasn't the only thing that mattered. Being social mattered, too - even if he had a hard time remembering that himself. "Hello." he said, returning his attention to the stallion - only now noticing the white dragon upon his back. He stops a respectful distance away before allowing his gaze to wander once more to the ancient Rotunda. "Beautiful, isn't it?" he continues, smiling softly. "I'm Miykael, a healer, and this is Eliana. I beg your pardon but... have we met before?" he asks, his blue gaze narrowing slightly with curiosity. The man just seemed so familiar but he just couldn't quite place it.
Miykael
At war with love |
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![[Image: mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png]](http://orig02.deviantart.net/51ca/f/2015/290/e/5/mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png)
