by Oluse on January 26th, 2013, 9:24 am
Oluse resided in a distant place, not complex, but distant from the rest of the world, and the storm had only pushed him farther into this obscure domain of lapsing time spent with little thought, broken only by unfamiliar waves of pubescent emotions.
He cared for the girl, and yet could not state how, even with his voice in tact. She embodied a bitter past, a forbidden past, yet changed in a way which confused him to perceive. Her body had grown, though not much, yet had felt some call to escape their sanctuary of birth which Oluse could not fathom. Unlike her he hungered for Denval, yet still he feared it. He wished to think fondly on his sisters and parents, but all that he could remember thinking as he looked toward that brilliant flash of light was Adarin. Fear incarnate.
Oluse's accessible eyes sunk into a shaded darkness, with drop of short eyelashes and shift of head to stare into Alea's work below, deliberately expending as little time deciphering her words as possible.
He wondered to himself often why she never spoke of his departure, he suspected that she never knew of the impending exile which threatened his young existence, and with that came hope that his parents remained ignorant as well. Still, fear consistently dominated these thoughts, and somewhere he felt he knew the truth, that they had simply been to ashamed to share their only son's misdeeds with the rest of their kinsmen.
"Yes." The word came drawn out, a near stutter, but ceased there as if the thought itself fell into the cracks between them. Cracks unperceivable but plaguing the whole of Avanthal due entirely to Ivak's wake. Perhaps, this is where Alea's voice had hidden, in the gaps left by unnatural passions. The thought was utterly too profound for the boy, as he struggled to breath the musky temperate air, and conjure from nowhere the words that may sway Alea's mind.
Oluse did know what Alea pondered, for perhaps the first time since their relationship had begun. It was what any good Denvali child would. Virates demanded so. He did not speak clever words with a nimble tongue, however, instead he tried his mightiest to ignore the insight, and found it easy to obscure the thought within the fog of his unorganized mind.
He had received a promise, from something larger than him, something older than him. Possibly even older than Denval itself. When he thought of his duties to Virates his heart sank, and his stomach churned as that vision of cool stone and rolling green wavered weakly within his mind. How much hope he had been filled with that dreadful night, to the brim in fact, as the world melted around him, as if his purpose rested suspended stagnantly in the ice in the unseen placed within himself, and finally something to the south had shaken loose. Freed themselves through those tiny invisible cracks. Called to him, to a duty that only he could perform. Something frightening and awesome. Something special.
His eyes shifted for a flash of a moment to the compass on her neck, and a dull ache swam through the base of his head, moving with a current of morose detachment down his spine to pool within his gut. This only made him feel it more, that urge.
He silently reminded himself in a tone of half hearted certainty that the urge was not cowardice. A coward denies duty, but he considered the commands of those urges to discate the opposite: bravery. He had been called.
Called by a force older than Denval itself.
It was bravery to go, words he tossed lifelessly around his skull as his eyes found themselves to Alea's youthful and delicate face. She was hurt, but he could not see this, all he saw was the anger which never tarried far from her visage.
His mouth opened, wanting to derail the swell of fury that would come, but as always there was nothing to say. No words flowed between his lips to make the world as he wished. Instead a haunting silence filled the stabled around them both.