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02-04-2016, 11:47 AM
I do not often return to the Halycon Flats, but each time I do I am always confronted with something. Usually the sheer weight of memory, of the hurt brought upon me here by the massive crocodile god, is all I find. That is enough, enough pain and enough torment to make me turn and leave. But on this day, with the sun bright and the air characterized by a particular lightness, I find something else.
From the near distance comes a call that intrigues me with its miniature boom. I am not sure why or how, but it draws me closer, pulls me in. Why would I turn from its uniqueness, why would I not investigate its source? Suddenly the idea of doing anything but finding the owner of the voice feels foolish.
And I would not want to be foolish. A small snort escapes my nostrils, my lips gum at each other, and I begin the slow walk towards the sound. The ground here is soft, the water a temptation of release from the aches I carry without the emotional pain of the Riptide Isles. But I do not venture beyond the beach, do not bring myself further than the small, twittering creature on the ground.
He is entirely unfamiliar, unique in a way that I do not understand. My eyes, golden droplets, widen and watch as the creature summons a colorful orb to dance upon, and gestures emphatically towards the stand at his back.
This little thing, this miniature myth, has called me to step right up. Though the two eggs are right before me, I fail to register their importance. I'm doing as I'm told, I'm stepping right up. But to what? What, what, in the world?
No Prior Refusals.
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