His father’s praise was enough to ignite the youth’s grin again – proud and triumphant with the force of the bubbles, droplets, and ensuing, but very negligible rain. He’d seen both of his parents do a many great, wonderful, awe-inspiring thing with their enchantments – he knew these moments couldn’t hold a candle to the possibilities – but the magic contained and adorned was his. And that meant multitudes; to be capable, to bear no shame, to unfurl it at his own command, rather than being a watcher, a witness.
And he’d seen his dad do the same things with his soldiers – patiently waiting, biding, to see if they were willing to strive again. He was always going to be; determined, steadfast, nodding at the encouragement. Furrowing his brows, he honed all that concentration into the figments of water, striving to alter and change their disposition, holding the foundations and morphing them into traces of ice, then snowflakes, as they descended gently down to the rest of their brethren. “Ha!” he gleamed, practically beaming from ear to ear. “How’s that?”
And he’d seen his dad do the same things with his soldiers – patiently waiting, biding, to see if they were willing to strive again. He was always going to be; determined, steadfast, nodding at the encouragement. Furrowing his brows, he honed all that concentration into the figments of water, striving to alter and change their disposition, holding the foundations and morphing them into traces of ice, then snowflakes, as they descended gently down to the rest of their brethren. “Ha!” he gleamed, practically beaming from ear to ear. “How’s that?”
erebos
and then we dream so much
