Atlas

Atlas had always dared to dream about one sanctuary or another, but never imagined he’d find their physical form in the shape of the Aurora Basin Time Mender. If Atlas had desired some far-off kingdom or mythical fantasy, he would have been forever disillusioned, forever in search of something that would never truly exist. Yet, there he stood, face to face with what he considered to be his own Elysium. If he wasn’t allowed his doubts, then he wouldn’t be considered human. Though, his doubts felt more like shadows as he watched Lena regain some small part of herself that he’d yet been able to experience. Her smile was true and bright, her softness a growing blossom, and the furrows around her eyes had vanished. It was a delightful change of pace despite Atlas’ own brooding regret.

For a moment, the stallion wished that he hadn’t allowed his seams to be stretched to allow the darkness in, but it made him more level somehow, more sane. That former sense of wonder had passed almost entirely now and, in its place, a familiar longing returned. If he made promises to Lena, would he be able to keep them? Would he fight the urge to run when things got hard? If Atlas had ever wanted to be anything at all, he wanted to be reliable…. trustworthy. However, he couldn’t exactly admit those fears to Lena— not now. Everything she knew was vague and fleeting, just ideas and concepts that really couldn’t stick one way or another. Besides, if he confessed to his crimes, he imagined Lena would have to return to the dungeon she’d built herself… even if he wanted so badly to believe they weren’t there.

As the man thought, his mind trying to wrap around the Mender’s question about his ambitions, he slowly chewed on the inside of his cheek. It rolled around and around while he remained close enough to touch her skin and the scarring along her back. He wondered if she could sense his nervous tension at this proximity or if he’d been able to manage it effectively enough to elude her. “I can’t say that I’ve ever wanted to be anything really. I’ve tried my hand at a couple of things though—I was an apprentice crafter for the Basin at one time you know,” he informed her with a glib smile. “It didn’t exactly work out.”

Atlas recalled the faces he’d met in his time in the North. Ashamin had been something of a friend to him, though never quite fully. In fact, he’d had many friends that were just so in name, but never in action. Perhaps that was why he found it so enchanting that Lena (of all creatures) had seen something in him that others chose to ignore. Beneath the façade and the blunt humor, he was just a boy seeking praise and guidance… even if those secrets would always be hidden away from those looking to unlock them. “What about you? Are you everything you’ve ever wanted to be Lena?” he questioned with a more serious quip. Was she spending her time with the kind of company that would allow her to bloom? Was Atlas the kind of man that deserved someone like her?

It wasn’t until she assured him that his apologies were unwarranted that Atlas understood the retelling of the mare’s past. It was more educational than it was inviting—just facts and stories that she would allow him to interpret, but never truly explain. In a way, Atlas could tell that her confessions were censored to a point, but otherwise quite honest. Someone had taken her heart before (or maybe a great many someone’s’, as the stallion couldn’t be completely sure) and if Atlas ever found them again, they would be able to fill in the missing pieces of Lena’s life. That was the kind of friendship Atlas wanted for himself…  “Maybe I do and maybe I don’t,” he mused toward her soothing.

She shuddered then, her slender shoulders trembling just beneath his lips as he moved to back away. If space was what she needed to overcome his closeness, then Atlas was willing to oblige, even if it appeared that Lena was facing her own battle inwardly to allow him such a favor. As she began to explain how she’d come by the burn marks, the man simply listened, enraptured. She’d done it all in order to protect her herd— to protect someone other than herself. It was honorable and selfless… something Atlas had come to expect of the Mender. “That may be true, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing,” he replied evenly. Couldn’t the Gods tell that Lena was more than capable of bearing her burdens without suffering for them too? He’d never pledged himself to religious beliefs over the years and the Mender’s tale certainly didn’t compel him to now… Atlas assumed it was just another difference between the two of them that would crop up the more they got to know one another.

Of course those differences also served to be a wide rift that could only widen as more truths were exposed.