#starled

          The very same gentle voice.                          Kindly meant words which lingered in the air.                                           For more than a painful eon.

                            Why did she always came to find him,                             oblivious and yet so thoughtful,                             solely to leave him behind?

Transparent shades of vivid hues danced in front of his eyes, so very distant and yet so far. Delightful souls touched almost so faintly, almost by coincidence, and yet he recognized their tale in their shades. Tales of friends, of lovers united in the raging storm of the Underworld; scarcely recognizable by the eye. And yet he could see – could feel, listen to their whispers from their very Star. It felt so easy, so very natural to him by now not gaze upon them, seeing through them as if they were merely of transparent glass. There was no focus needed, no manipulation of his own aether to endow himself such blessed ability. As he was gifted like no other.

                      What could he possibly learn what he not already knew?                    Sung by the deceased who shone so brightly upon the sky?                                  Even if it meant to accompany…her.

Promethea had found him laying on his back in the grass in the park once again, perchance his most favorite place in Amaurot. Not quite an extravagant hiding place, he had to admit, albeit most of their brethren did not bother to search for him anyway. And yet his eyes, hidden beneath his unique mask, never met hers, seeking so much more in the sky – not daring to face her. There was no cowl to keep his untamed white wisps of hair contained which merely made his indifferent appearance far more unsettling. But Hades never cared much of what their kin thought of him – or his affinity to the Underworld for that matter. Albeit, he was quite intrigued, as she happened to offer such an opportunity to him, and not Hythlodaeus. Though, in truth, he understood full well her reasoning. Their brethren depended on his friend, needed him here in Amaurot whilst he was shunned.

Such kind soul. The truest blessing of their kin. Seeking to aid those who struggled, who might learn from their knowledge and kindness. Alas Hades did not. Many found pleasure in sheer endless debates or in overtrumping themselves and their friends with their newest creations; yet he was not like any of them. Not even once in his immortal life had he wished to be elsewhere, seeing their very Star with his own eyes. His mind, full of images, hazardous concepts and ideals, was already all he needed. Nonetheless she made him reconsider his own resolve, each time more she raised the same unspoken question. Yet naught ever changed.

His answer would remain the same, for the next eons to come. And he knew what would follow. She would leave, as she always did – disappearing like the souls who returned to the life stream, only leaving rumors and whispers of her appearance in the farthest corner of their very Star behind. Mayhap he would listen to them, estimating her return centuries later; feeling the weight of his very own soul heavily inside his chest. One vacuum which could not be filled – not by friendly words of his friend nor the many shades who always surrounded and talked to him.

Nonetheless he understood the nature of her very soul – one bright shade of such unique color that there was no other in existence. One sight he never grew tired; and also the very reason why he could not gaze at her now. If he solely lifted one plain finger, he could have felt her warmth radiating from her; feel the vibrancy coming from the very core of her entire being.

                   ❝You knew the answer ere you entered the park.                       And yet you came.❞

Hades lifted one hand to wave dismissively – intending to send her away. Alas he had little hope she would indeed leave, knowing her all too well. It merely made her departure more complicated, tormenting even. 

Lips were pressed tightly, silently mourning the scenery bestowed upon him by the sky above - one he had learned understood so very well over the past centuries. It was almost as if the Underworld itself wept for him. Torching his very core, setting it ablaze next to her radiance. Their nature did not match in the slightest; and still he could not deny that he loved her. And thus he would remain in Amaurot, attending to his own duties whilst she wandered. Spun tales. Inspired their kin.

Azem, unpredictable and so very curious by nature, was the sole individual he had learned to read to one certain extend, almost feeling – as if one faint connection between their very existence truly existed – when she was close to return to Amaurot once again. Wild and untamed, so very similar to him, she would only return after seeing new miracles, new surprises and after making new acquaintances. It was what made her very being so different to most of their kin – the drive and impulse to see so much more than her own imagination, to see and experience all by herself. And perchance such brightness of her mind, the very difference to his own who never left their proud city, had made him fall for her over the many centuries.  Oh, most certainly he would have left his unrequited feelings at that; being so very content of solely being a friend to her – one she visited so regularly and whom she also asked for counsel. And nonetheless, despite having lived a much longer life than most of their kin, the very moments with her were still the finest to his memory – those moments when she simply shared in his melancholy and laid down with him in the fresh grass of the park to gaze upon the firmament. Moments of silence, of quiet – unlike the many loud voices of the common citizens who truly enjoyed to elaborate and state their minds. He was none of them; and when he felt the faint glow and warmth of her very soul so close to his own, he had always believed to remain on this very spot for the rest of all eternity.

Perchance Hythlodaeus words held more truth into them as he had presumed for long; finding out that Azem had truly considered him trustworthy enough to grant him access to her own private home in secret, albeit she had never voiced such direct permission. And just mayhap he should have listened to their mutual friend far sooner, who had long suggested for him to lay bare what his soul seemed to see in hers. And now he did, full intending to propose to his beloved if she indeed felt the very same. In the very beginning he had been quite against such mischievous approach, yet when the day of her return drawn nearer his mind had long begun to race, to consider the many possibilities. And the very result of his long brooding had been to show the very beauty he saw in everything – in the smallest things he loved, in the many things he had begun to love because of her. In the incomparable beauty of her soul, and hers alone.

Nay, he believed to know what her heart desired after the countless of hours spending with her; and the least he wanted was to imprison her like one of the many creatures they conjured with their magics. She was a free spirit, like the wind and the rain, a true force of nature – and he wished to treat her so, with all of the love he could harbor for her very existence. The only true way for him to reveal what he had buried for so long, deep within his very core, was to show her such deep understanding of herself; to make her smile, to make her laugh. To see beauty in all, also in him. And thus the very plan was quickly and yet so very carefully constructed.

Only for once would he not wait for her on their usual destined spot; only for once would he not greet her with fine spells awaiting to be seen solely by her. Instead, so he had planned, he left the purest bouquet of her most beloved flowers, leaving hints of his true whereabouts in entire Amaurot for her to see the city and the people he so very cherished. An own adventure midst their own kin, with friendly faces – with witty conversations.

Hades patiently waited in her private chambers for her return, beginning to conjure imagines, sceneries of absolute and pristine gorgeousness – one flower prettier than the other, each winged creature brighter, more vivid and so seemingly alive than the previous one. There was only limited time, of course, but he would not stop to use his creation magic until she set foot into her own apartment – and saw him. Midst the vast field of flowers and creatures to greet her.

And she did arrive, eventually – the strains of her long travel still so very apparent on her silhouette.

The darkened cowl slowly glided down his smooth facial features, coming to rest on his broad shoulders to reveal the much shorter wisps of snow-white hair beneath it –no longer being the untamed and wild mane he used to so openly wear and show despite their communal robes. One which had always made him to be quite different to the other Amaurotians, not solely due to his rather eccentric reputation. Yet now the hair perfectly framed the grey mask hiding his upper face, with its wisps ending around the very same height of his barely visible nostrils. Despite such certainly surprising revelation of his sudden change of his own appearance – one he had not changed in eons -- Hades’ expression remained indescribable as ever, his lips tightly pressed to a thin line.

Ever so slowly, almost as if he intended for a dramatic pause, he lifted his cloaked arm to place all of his slender fingertips on his mask – the only true belonging which was truly his alone. The aether so easily flowed through his veins to the very tips touching the singular creation, giving the unspoken permission to reveal what was lying underneath. Soft and light as a feather, despite its material looking so heavy to the eye, he felt the mask, his second skin, lifting from his cheeks, attaching itself to his palm. His eyes still laid upon her – the sole sun and light of his very existence, one brilliant soul shining so very brightly whenever she was as close to him – whilst he removed the very hand still covering what common eyes would never be allowed to see.

Golden eyes, glistening like gold and honey betwixt the river of the many hues and movements in their reflection – two mirrors to the underworld itself. One seemingly perfect nose for his face and very distinctive pair of eyebrows which were usually never visible beneath the mask he bore for all eternity. He was well aware how outrageous his very actions would be in the eyes of many – to so very nonchalantly and unbiddenly remove what concealed their true selves – lest they forgot of their humble existence in service of their very brethren and their Star – more so in front of one of the Convocation of Fourteen. Yet it was  h e r, the one his soul had longed for, that he did not fear any consequences.

And despite their eternal lives as stewards of their very Star, he had long awaited this particular moment – had even waited for so much longer than most of his kin would have. Observing her for too many centuries, feeling his soul becoming more and more drawn to hers for more than an eon. Dwelling in the connection between their aether’s faint touch whenever she was close to him, slowly learned to bear the very sight of the truest soul of them all. Perchance he had already waited far too long, feeling the aching pain burning inside his very breast upon every of her departures – failing to speak such genuine words which his very soul seemingly loudly yelled whenever their paths crossed. But no longer.

Hades still glanced upon her, withstanding all the odds, lifting his arm merely for so little to almost inaudible snap his fingers in front of his tall and slender body, his mind focusing on the most beautiful being he knew to exist on their very Star – her. The aether immediately begun so swiftly and truthfully shaping what he intended to create with his magics, one imitation of one particular soul – hers – brighter than any star, any light seen in their proud streets. The numerous hues reflecting in such image shone in the many colors she held so very close to her heart, telling the very story of all the souls she had met during her long travels across their entire Star –those tales he had so eagerly listened to; and sometimes he had also seen in the passing souls ere they left towards the Underworld. Only one existence was blessed to be touched by so many souls, having so much light radiating from deep inside.

H e r s.

The very imagine of her soul how he saw it – how only he could perceive it as someone who possessed far greater sight and affinity towards the Underworld than any other individual – carefully filled the room, floating midst the many other creations he had prepared for her until she had entered her own personal home.

 — THEY HAVE CALLED HIS NAME IN A LITANY OF PRAYERS. 

        there is an echo in amaurot; listen, carefully, there had always been a melody betwixt its spires, the hearts of their people, beating in tandem. it was a subtle thing, when that ephemeral tune had begun to tremble. whispers between friend and kin —

                                                                     distorted creation —

   when the sun-gilded traveler had delivered the news to the convocation; when they had unintentionally fumbled their response, again and again, locked in the halls of debate. hypothesis after hypothesis, faltering under the ire of the unknown.

              there is a word for the new echo in amaurot. elidibus does not have the time to think of it. the emissary has his own overture to conduct, fingers splayed across the keys. 

               “ lahabrea is without words — ” his words, crystalline yet deep-rooted, “ emet-selch is without designs — ”

                    ( and oh how they have worked, throats run ragged, rare tempers flaying and the words finding purchase — )

 “ i do not know how many corners of the world are left to you — ” a tap on the middle c; light, bright, as the sun ever shines — “ — but to endure is the position i must take. ”

             there is a word for the new echo in amaurot. elidibus does not wish to give voice to it.

                            — desperation.

“ regardless, my friend —” and though they cannot reach the sun’s heights, elidibus tries, tries with his smile. for them. as they pray his name, as they pray for the emissary, for zodiark —

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