by Caelum on April 14th, 2010, 9:41 pm
Mollified by Lillis' reassurances of her own well-being, the unlikely pair proceeded on their journey to Zeltiva, city of scholars and shipwrighting. There Caelum hoped to unbury further secrets and lost knowledge regarding cosmic healing. He felt rather like a fool flailing a windmills, and a deeper part of him recognized that he was indeed just that. His skills in healing were limited, he found, though there was a haze of memory loitering especially in the moonlight of greater depths of ability that he felt must sleep now in his hands, in his mind. Surgeon's hands, they were, to look at them, and so he aimed to make them so in truth. If he wanted to heal the heavens, he had to start with healing the more corporal subjects of the universe. This, of course, did not mean he was not actively researching towards his more divine goals.
The days slipped by, blessed by gentle weather and abundant game. When Lillis was feeling up to it, they would race across open patches of land, eating the wind and trying not to hope too hard that it would wash the worst pieces of them away. By night, they would strike camp at convenient or merely picturesque locations, splitting chores and sharing meals. They failed to achieve a high level of conversation, their words typically limited to necessity; but they were neither empty or unkind for it. Each had a great deal on their mind, and each had a great deal they, perhaps, feared to unburden from their minds and onto the other's with weighty words.
It was five days since the nap in the sun-dappled woods and the moon had risen more than an hour previous. A small clearing was snuggled up between a copse of sycamore trees and the bright music of a little stream flush with trout. He had set up the tent and as Lillis set about building up the fire, he gathered up his fishing gear to walk down to the stream and settle in.
It was peaceful, he thought, a stolen piece of it to settle his soul into a state capable of wading, again and always, through his reams of research tonight. He slept very little, usually, due to his unflagging drive. Obsession, he privately acknowledged, but did not care.