Week 1 - Awkward First Steps
"This is from Morrigan."
Rhian's hand reaches forward and presses into his firmly. There is a sudden feeling of warmth in the small space between their palms, as if there's something alive between their hands, something very small, but already so very precious. And then, reaching through his skin and all the way through his body, there is a very faint beat... As if a tiny heart is beating between their hands, clinging to life with all its strength.
"This child is different from the ones by her side," she comments calmly when she pulls her hand away, letting Ether look over the object. Lying in the center of his palm, is a small egg. Almost completely black, it pulses with warm green light that makes it feel that much more alive. "It was cared for and bred for four thousand years. Always keep it by your side. As long as you care for it, it will hatch into something far more useful than any weapon."
"...Four thousand years," he echoes quietly as he peers down at the egg. A moment passes, and then he curls his fingers around the tiny creature, concealing its light from the world, "Alright... I shall keep it safe. Anything else?"
"Yes, actually. I have a message for you. It is..." She goes silent for a second, breathes in deeply in what looks like an attempt to show her words' importance... And then Ether smiles brightly as her serious demeanor crumbles for the sake of reaching into her robe and pulling out a piece of paper. "...Here it is," she continues through the smile of her own, "It is from Ladon. He wanted me to tell you that your first target lies far, yet very close, behind the curtain of monochrome rain, the land painted red with honor, the quest of a lonely fairy queen, the riddle of a man who challenges life and the road under the endless sky that no longer knows man. You will know you reached your destination when you reach the spiral staircase."
"...Ladon." Ether grins wider, a spark of nostalgia appearing in his eyes. "He still speaks in riddles. Old age must be doing a trick on his senses."
"It must be, but... He sure has a knack for making it sound romantic, no? I like listening to his advice. He makes it sound like poetry."
"True enough."
For a moment, their conversation falls silent and both grin at each other, as if happy that they found something to agree on. It lasts for mere seconds, this kind of warm and peaceful understanding, and then Ether cants his head a little forward and peers toward her, his smile brimming with confidence.
"...Rhian?"
"Yes, Ether?"
"I didn't lie earlier. It may have sounded like empty bragging, but I'll surely save you this time. No matter what it takes."
Her eyes slant a little as her smile turns wider, an expression of someone who heard exactly what she wanted to.
"I know, Ether. I know that no matter what is said, in the long run, you'll pull through. Because you are the... No. Because you're Ether."
For a minute, they simply stand like that, smiling at each other from the distance of stretched out hand, peaceful and happy like there's nothing wrong with the world. They don't lose these smiles even as her figure begins slowly falling apart into tiny particles of light, each one of them getting picked up by the wind and carried away into the bright sky. He doesn't lose the smile even as the final particle rises into the sky and disappear, leaving him behind with only a memory of this meeting and a tiny warm object in his hand.
"...Yeah," he says without tearing his gaze away from the place where she just was, "because I'm finally myself."
A single tear rises in his eye, but he doesn't let it fall. Instead, he raises his hand and brushes it away with his finger. Tonight, even the pain of parting won't make him cry. Not when he finally figured out something like this.
He is running. He is always running somewhere, although he's often not sure where. Several weeks ago, he thought he was trying to find his home. Back then, he had little idea about what that word means. Now, that meaning rings in his heart louder than ever.
His feet strike out the first few notes on the stone walkway and then build up a solid rhythm as he begins running, away from the lonely street and toward the horizon, where he is sure he'll find what he's looking for. With each step, his movements become more frequent, more confident, as if every step makes this beginning of a journey easier for him.
This is how it always seems to begin.
Rhian's hand reaches forward and presses into his firmly. There is a sudden feeling of warmth in the small space between their palms, as if there's something alive between their hands, something very small, but already so very precious. And then, reaching through his skin and all the way through his body, there is a very faint beat... As if a tiny heart is beating between their hands, clinging to life with all its strength.
"This child is different from the ones by her side," she comments calmly when she pulls her hand away, letting Ether look over the object. Lying in the center of his palm, is a small egg. Almost completely black, it pulses with warm green light that makes it feel that much more alive. "It was cared for and bred for four thousand years. Always keep it by your side. As long as you care for it, it will hatch into something far more useful than any weapon."
"...Four thousand years," he echoes quietly as he peers down at the egg. A moment passes, and then he curls his fingers around the tiny creature, concealing its light from the world, "Alright... I shall keep it safe. Anything else?"
"Yes, actually. I have a message for you. It is..." She goes silent for a second, breathes in deeply in what looks like an attempt to show her words' importance... And then Ether smiles brightly as her serious demeanor crumbles for the sake of reaching into her robe and pulling out a piece of paper. "...Here it is," she continues through the smile of her own, "It is from Ladon. He wanted me to tell you that your first target lies far, yet very close, behind the curtain of monochrome rain, the land painted red with honor, the quest of a lonely fairy queen, the riddle of a man who challenges life and the road under the endless sky that no longer knows man. You will know you reached your destination when you reach the spiral staircase."
"...Ladon." Ether grins wider, a spark of nostalgia appearing in his eyes. "He still speaks in riddles. Old age must be doing a trick on his senses."
"It must be, but... He sure has a knack for making it sound romantic, no? I like listening to his advice. He makes it sound like poetry."
"True enough."
For a moment, their conversation falls silent and both grin at each other, as if happy that they found something to agree on. It lasts for mere seconds, this kind of warm and peaceful understanding, and then Ether cants his head a little forward and peers toward her, his smile brimming with confidence.
"...Rhian?"
"Yes, Ether?"
"I didn't lie earlier. It may have sounded like empty bragging, but I'll surely save you this time. No matter what it takes."
Her eyes slant a little as her smile turns wider, an expression of someone who heard exactly what she wanted to.
"I know, Ether. I know that no matter what is said, in the long run, you'll pull through. Because you are the... No. Because you're Ether."
For a minute, they simply stand like that, smiling at each other from the distance of stretched out hand, peaceful and happy like there's nothing wrong with the world. They don't lose these smiles even as her figure begins slowly falling apart into tiny particles of light, each one of them getting picked up by the wind and carried away into the bright sky. He doesn't lose the smile even as the final particle rises into the sky and disappear, leaving him behind with only a memory of this meeting and a tiny warm object in his hand.
"...Yeah," he says without tearing his gaze away from the place where she just was, "because I'm finally myself."
A single tear rises in his eye, but he doesn't let it fall. Instead, he raises his hand and brushes it away with his finger. Tonight, even the pain of parting won't make him cry. Not when he finally figured out something like this.
He is running. He is always running somewhere, although he's often not sure where. Several weeks ago, he thought he was trying to find his home. Back then, he had little idea about what that word means. Now, that meaning rings in his heart louder than ever.
His feet strike out the first few notes on the stone walkway and then build up a solid rhythm as he begins running, away from the lonely street and toward the horizon, where he is sure he'll find what he's looking for. With each step, his movements become more frequent, more confident, as if every step makes this beginning of a journey easier for him.
This is how it always seems to begin.