today, it's quiet. rather, it's peaceful, and atlas has learned to cherish that. from the beginning, his story with qistina had been full of adventure- and full of danger. full of love and heartache and a history that he knew deep in his soul. after all, the girl with the pale hair and the red eyes that he had met all those years ago had turned out to be a goddess reborn. she had been ethereal, and back then he was certain that such ethereal things would never be in reach of humans.
as it turned out, he wasn't quite human, was he?
he took it differently than she- the knowledge of his divinity. there was a part of him that wished to deny it, because he had loved being a human hero. he'd been proud of all that he had accomplished ⎛ although there were still things that brought him shame; it was so clear now- looking back at his life in the kingdom. but he was a starry-eyed youth and had been blinded by dreams of glory ⎠ and surely it had been by human hands. he had never wished to be a form of divine intervention- not until that day.
qistina's footsteps are familiar ⎛ of course they are ⎠ - he looks up and smiles, because for all the things she's done, he knows she loves him- not as a goddess would love a worshipper and not in the way two divine consorts loved, but as a human. ⎛ if only he could make others understand that this was the proof that she was human- ⎠
❝ have i kept you waiting? ❞ sometimes, he loses track of time. it's easy to do that when it has no true hold on him. it's been so long since he felt time like humans felt it- ❝ if so, not too long, i hope- but it is quite lovely today. sit with me so we can listen to the birds songs. ❞
