And all the stars above

It may have been Flowerbirth in the rest of Caido, but out on the Sea of Glass it still felt like Deepfrost. The ice remained thick and the snow deep, and the breeze that occasionally caught at the fresh powder and flung it up in clouds of moonlit glitter cut like a blade against unprotected skin.

For that reason the Tidebreaker was not bare-chested or even bare-armed. He had a parka specifically for visiting Halo in his legged form, with thick gloves and a fluffy scarf in shades of blue. With the furred hood pulled up to cover his steel-silver hair, only his bright emerald eyes were truly visible. Even his height was disguised as he knelt upon the ice before the altar, head tilted up to the light of the aurora borealis snaking its colorful way across the sky above, sheets of vibrant hues dancing between the sea and the stars.

"Safrin. Thank you, for keeping us safe. For keeping us all alive," he rumbled softly to the sky. An offering had been laid upon the shrine, am intricate necklace of scales that shimmered like prisms, reflecting the light above with a sparkle almost like gemstones. The man did not seem upset that there was no response to his gift or his gratitude, however; there was a quiet serenity to his devotion that required no answer, and a faith unshakeable even in the silence.

Zenith

We are all stardust

Zen's first few weeks in Caido had been a whirlwind. He'd met his brother, been almost mugged, trained a little, and now he was in Halo. The Demi-god had originally been planning to go straight to King's End and begin the task his mother had given him. But he wasn't sure when he'd have the time to check in with the snowy region if he did. Being here also correlated with his mission and taking the detour was worth it for that alone. Halo was the other region with a ruler devoted to his mother. However, from what he'd seen and heard in the stars, Halo hadn't accepted many regional quests from her recently. He needed to investigate that before heading east.

After arriving in Halo, the Demi-god had immediately sought out the stars. A few locals had mentioned that if he wanted the best view, he'd need to go out onto the tundra. Bundling up in offered coats and with a small bag of supplies, Zen had begun his trek.

His wandering brought him to the Sea of Glass, to the shrine. Walking along the edge, he was reminded of the shore of the Arclight Ocean that he had first set foot on. Scanning the area and appreciating how the snow reflected the stars above, Zen spotted a figure. There was something familiar about the man and he was certain that he'd spotted this individual from the stars at least once.

Cautiously approaching, the man's identity became clear. Hadama. The King that his mother had ascended to Demi-godhood. Less hesitant now, Zen's strides lengthened. Reaching the shrine, he stayed a few feet back, unwilling to interrupt. Bowing his head, the younger Demi-god also prayed. His silent prayer was more of a greeting, an update to his mom. It was interlaced with gratitude for her guidance and further affirmation of his vow.

When both Demi-gods were done, Zen's eyes found Hadama's. Stars burst into existence beside him, casting blue and purple hues on the snow. (Hello, Hadama.)

Reflections of the cosmos and the passage of time

Zenith

True, there was a shrine on the Sea, but Hadama had not expected anyone else to make the trek in the cold Flowerbirth night to it. Hearing only one set of footsteps crunching over the snow, he had chosen to complete his prayer of gratitude before turning to face the newcomer. At first all he could see was the masking bundle of coats and furs that similarly his his own distinguishing characteristics, but there was a certain sparkle to the eyes tucked into all those mismatched layers, and the words that appeared in the air next to him could have had only one source.

It was... unexpected. In the grief he felt for Seren's recent loss even more so. He contemplated the stranger in silence, his face even more expressionless than usual, hidden behind a scarf as most of it was. Emerald eyes studied the boy, unhurried and thoughtful, giving away nothing of what he felt at this new revelation.

"Newly raised?" he asked slowly at last. "Or newly born into Caido?" If nothing else, the ages of Safrin's three remaining children - that he knew of - was proof enough that time passed differently in the stars above. Seren had explained as much, in one of the last conversations they had ever held together.

We are all stardust

Zen watched Hadama's expression as the older Demi-god processed his identity. It was no surprise that the Tidebreaker was able to put the pieces together. The stars reformed, swirling as they created new words. (Newly born.)

He wondered what was going through Hadama's mind at the moment. Zen didn't know the man well enough to properly read him. It wouldn't surprise him if Hadama had been close with Seren, both being Safrin's Demi-gods and living in Torchline. If that were the case, Zen's presence might not necessarily be positively received. The timing of his birth made it clear. Zen was created in response to Seren's loss. A replacement in some ways, a counter in others. Possibly Safrin's anger and grief at her daughter's loss, taken form.

Reflections of the cosmos and the passage of time

Zenith

The stars that swirled into words were, in fact, something of a subtle hint as to the young man's origins. The answer that followed Hadama's question, given the stranger's age, only cemented his initial conclusion, and he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment of it. The muffling layers made it more difficult to read his subdued responses, but his gaze did not leave the young demigod's starry regard as they stood upon the ice and watched each other in the silence of the Halovian night. The beauty and peace of it had been shattered, however softly, by the arrival of the stranger and all that he represented, and the Tidebreaker allowed himself a moment to come to terms with that far smaller loss before focusing on the nameless man who faced him across the snow.

Hadama knew, perhaps better than most, that while some were created by the goddess's hand for love alone, others were called upon for a reason. A specific duty. A need, or a lack in her plan that required the perfect piece to fill it. "Do you know your purpose?" A quiet question, softly spoken for all the weight that the deep rumble of his voice held.

We are all stardust

Zen's eyes narrowed, silver glinting at Hadama's question. He knew his purpose well. Vesper hadn't inquired about it or mentioned his. But clearly that topic wasn't as taboo as the newer Demi-god had anticipated.  After a heartbeat, stars reformed in the air. Thier color was a deeper blue, bordering on black and frosted with white. (Balance. Protection and Devastation.) To protect and care for those worthy of his mother's love, and to destroy those who turned their back on her. An enforcer of her will. An extension of her wrath. That was Zenith's purpose. It was also what further separated him from his fallen sister.

Still, if Hadama wished to pry, then Zen would take the opportunity to do the same. His head tilted slightly, as he regarded the Tidebreaker neutrally. (Do you know yours?) He had been under the impression that it was to protect Torchline and ensure it remained in his mother's grasp, but perhaps Hadama had a more abstract purpose.

Reflections of the cosmos and the passage of time

Zenith

The words swirled into being in the air and Hadama considered them, and then the young man who had formed them. He looked over his build. Considered the strength that he could see in that frame. He said nothing more, but he rose, slowly, from where he had been kneeling beside the altar. He stood to his full height and looked down upon the new demigod.

And tilted his head, unimpressed by what he found in those silver eyes.

Different from Seren, indeed.

"Purpose is not always required, to make a demigod." His voice was a low, inflectionless rumble, calm and neutral. Sometimes it was more about who a person was, rather than what they could do for the goddess. More about potential to grow, rather than a duty assigned. And sometimes, such as with Seren - with Nova and Calypso as well, he suspected - it was simply a matter of love.

"But for now, mine is to stand against the Void." A purpose he had chosen for himself, with Safrin's many blessings. "Do you have a plan for dealing with it?"

We are all stardust

Zen's eyes tilted up to stay locked on Hadama's. Nothing on the older Demi-god's face gave it away, but the younger had a feeling that he'd failed a silent test. No matter. If the Tidebreaker had been hoping that Zen would be Seren's equal, that was a matter of his own wishful thinking. Zen didn't have the luxury of time or peace that his sister had experienced.

Still, he listened intently as Hadama spoke, absorbing the information and realigning his understanding of his kin.

Zen jaw tightened at the question. Deep blue stars swirled into existence. (Nothing concrete yet, except to fight it.) The Demi-god's eyes trailed to the night sky as his stars morphed once more, (I still have much to learn.) He knew that he needed to become more powerful and more experienced in order to effectively combat the Family. There was so little time, but Zen could acknowledge that he'd only been in Caido for a matter of weeks. Even the small amount of progress that he'd made was nothing to scoff at.

Reflections of the cosmos and the passage of time

Zenith

Whether the strange demigod who had not even introduced himself thought himself tested or not was entirely in his own head. Nor had Seren's name been mentioned, much less any hopes or other emotions that Hadama held for his dead friend. Of this new youth, he held neither wishes nor hopes. He did not know him well enough for that. All he knew was the words that had been formed in the air so far. The answers that had been given to his questions. And the questions asked in turn, revealing, perhaps, more than the stranger intended.

Enough to begin piecing together a picture of the one who faced him across the snow. But he revealed nothing of what he thought of that picture, giving only the solemn, stoic gaze that all strangers received from him.

"Indeed." A single word, perhaps in response to the first statement. Perhaps to both. But since the young man had not given him an appellation of his own accord, Hadama had a final question for him, expression as calm and still as the Sea around them. "What is your name?" Whether given by Safrin or chosen by the child. His goddess would not find him shirking his duty to her, no matter how difficult the challenge she put before him.

We are all stardust

Zen's eyes ran over the older Demi-god's face before finally nodding. Blue and silver stars shifted into existence in the air beside him. (Zen.) Hadama had a quiet intensity to him, one that only made him harder to decipher. The younger Demi-god had no fear of the man, well aware of how loyal the Tidebreaker was to his mother. But that didn't mean Zen felt entirely at ease in his presence. Only one person had managed that so far. Nova.

Pushing all of that to the side, Zen took a few silent steps forward, bridging the gap between the Demi-gods until it was only a few feet. Glancing up to meet Hadama's eyes, his brow furrowed, new dark stars shifting in the air. (How can I help?) He had his own plans and goals. But if there was a way that Zen could assist in the fight against the Void while he laid the groundwork for those objectives, he would gladly do so.

Reflections of the cosmos and the passage of time

Zenith

He inclined his head in acknowledgment of the name, tucking it into memory alongside the names of Safrin's other children. His gaze lifted to the sky above and the colors that still danced there, but already they were beginning to soften and fade. The height of the stellar display was over for tonight, or at least for now, and he had accomplished all that he had faced the cold to do.

Before he could leave, however, a flicker of light caught the corner of his eye and he looked down once more to decipher the silent writing in the air. Zen had moved closer, encroaching upon his personal space, but Hadama stood with quiet immovability as he regarded the boy. And tilted his head slowly to the side in consideration of the question.

"It is enough," he said slowly at last, "that you do not die. Or cause Safrin further grief." With a final inclination of his head to indicate farewell, Hadama took one step forward--

Into moonlight. And was gone.

~Fin