Day 33, Winter of 511 AV
Nightfall
The Patchwork Port
Nightfall
The Patchwork Port
It was a cool winter night, and the darkness of the sky was alleviated only by the dim lights of Leth's Orb above, accompanied by the little flickering sparks of the mundane torches that lined up along the port. Eridanus had no idea why he was here, drawn from his resting place with a sort of strange vigor to watch the moon against the backdrop of crashing waves.
It was as if there was some call from the moon, an instinctive hunger that beckoned him forth. It was insufficient for him to appreciate the pale light just from his abode, no he needed to see it all against the never-stopping bustle of Laviku's domain, to see it all against Morwen's chill, to see it all without the artificial clamor of human-made buildings.
The ethaefal hummed a short piece, a random improvisation of Vani melody against a melancholy series of chords, an expression of his desire to see his god once more, just so he could as a simple why? as to his fate and predicament. Does a father not notice when his child has been torn away from him?
It was as if there was some call from the moon, an instinctive hunger that beckoned him forth. It was insufficient for him to appreciate the pale light just from his abode, no he needed to see it all against the never-stopping bustle of Laviku's domain, to see it all against Morwen's chill, to see it all without the artificial clamor of human-made buildings.
The ethaefal hummed a short piece, a random improvisation of Vani melody against a melancholy series of chords, an expression of his desire to see his god once more, just so he could as a simple why? as to his fate and predicament. Does a father not notice when his child has been torn away from him?