24th day of Spring, 511 AV Having returned to his tent on the northern edges of Mura after meeting with the Charoda, Cilaes slept most of the afternoon, waking up in time to make himself a small meal before the sunset. He never missed the sunset, or the sunrise for that matter. Though the Ethaefal didn’t revel in Syna’s bright light, he welcomed the moments she spent close to this lord. Sitting in the soothing glow of the sunlight it was sometimes possible to feel the warmth of the lovers joy spread out of the land as they were reunited. He had taken the time to make sure his bowls were clean and his fire safely smothered well before the Sun Goddess brushed against the horizon. No distractions. It was a warm evening and Cilaes had shed his shirt after supper. Letting Syna’s last warm rays brush against his tanned skin he sat before his tent, the small scars on his chest shimmered slightly in the soft light. The man’s back was straight and his head held high, but the pose lacked any sense of rigidness. His heavy shoulders hung loose, and his arms flowed smoothly, limply, to where his hands rested on crossed knees. Abdominal muscles relaxed his stomach undulated with each controlled breath that filled his chest. His left side, the westerly facing side felt the last few rays of sunlight as she fell below the trees of Mura. Fluid oranges swirled around the pink underbellies of the clouds in the sunset, the last bright colors bursting through the thin black silhouettes of the trees. Eventually the warm colors of Syna faded as a brilliant ceiling of deep cyan arched gracefully over the island. This color belonged to neither deity, and shone with its own glory, a bright, smooth and clear beauty. But it too faded, slipping west over the spires of trees and cottages as Leth strode into the sky for his nightly duties. Cilaes meditated with his eyes open, letting the embrace of the two gods fill his vision as they moved across the sky. But his eyes were unfocused and his breath steady and slow. He tried not to think in this transitioning time. It was a time to celebrate the joy his master felt, and to appreciate the goddess who shared the ecstasy with him. From his periphery the Ethaefal could see the silvery edges of the moon creeping over the island. The warm brown eyes were the first thing to change as moonlight brushed against his body. Blue soaked into the irises, leaving them a dark indigo. Leth’s cool touch soon spread to the rest of Cilaes’s body, bringing about the familiar sensations of the transformation. His skin tingled as Syna’s bronze stain leeched away, leaving him pale and nearly reflective in the moonlight. Scars large and small wriggled and melted into the new skin, which quickly sucked up the dark ink of his windmarks. Beneath the surface the Ethaefal’s muscles squirmed about, rearranging themselves to fit a new body that was slightly taller and more lean than the large Drykas man. Above the shoulders more changes took place. His eyes had changed, and the old marks of injury on his temple and chin dissolved. Cilaes’s hair began to grey, until it was the dark, soft color of heavy clouds, tinted with blue. From his scalp horns sprouted and spiraling their way up through the roots. They were white as pearls and six inches long, looking like twisted cones that tilted back slightly over his head. With a final deep breath the electric feeling faded from his body and Cilaes stood up, putting his shirt and jerkin back on, straightening the fabric with gentle, guiding tugs. He glanced up at the moon, nearly full, his eyes full of longing as they rested on his master’s face. Good evening my lord. I thank you for the light you will lend us tonight. With a soft sigh the Ethaefal walked briskly to the bridge where he had me the Charoda this morning. Leth’s reflection was huge and silver on the surface of the lake, nearly as perfect as the image of him that hung in the sky. Cilaes stood watching the unbroken water, waiting for Quelen patiently. |