Over mountains and forests and seas
He could understand the hesitation to accept the idea of a gift given without strings, without conditions or ulterior motives. In the short time Chulane had been a part of Caido, he’d known an initial time of relative ‘normalness’. He’d been quite spoilt really, as he’d had a relatively warm introduction to the region the portal had dumped him into, and an entire season spent in isolation with one who he quickly and easily grew to love. But even that season was not without its drama and danger, with the Palace being attacked, the shifting of Wardens, the death of a Warden – Halo had seen it’s own drama and chaos for it’s time spent in isolation, no matter the rest of the world battling Longnight monsters and other such calamities.
Then when the season finally did shift, the news of Kia’s biological mother having passed, shortly followed by… everything else - it was easy to think that nothing good could ever happen just to good.
Perhaps Chulane was the foolish one, the naïve one, forever looking on the optimistic side of things even when absolute disaster inevitably struck.
Or perhaps that was his strength.
‘We spoke,’ he echoed, the simple and complete happiness unable to be hidden across the bond as he recalled that before-dawn meeting. ‘She’s staying with me,’ he supplied easily, unaware of how much or how little the Sword knew. ‘She has my shifts, if she ever needs them – I’ll not lose her again.’ It was a quiet but determined assertion, a declaration of his resolve to live again, with her, for as long as this brutal world would allow – and he intended it to be a long time. With another glance to the Sword, he let the sense of inquiry colour the bond. ‘What are your thoughts on… the Voice? Now?’ Because he remembered that first time he’d met Deimos too, that first impression, that apathy for all things god related, and he wanted to know if that had changed at all, with everything they’d been through.
Then when the season finally did shift, the news of Kia’s biological mother having passed, shortly followed by… everything else - it was easy to think that nothing good could ever happen just to good.
Perhaps Chulane was the foolish one, the naïve one, forever looking on the optimistic side of things even when absolute disaster inevitably struck.
Or perhaps that was his strength.
‘We spoke,’ he echoed, the simple and complete happiness unable to be hidden across the bond as he recalled that before-dawn meeting. ‘She’s staying with me,’ he supplied easily, unaware of how much or how little the Sword knew. ‘She has my shifts, if she ever needs them – I’ll not lose her again.’ It was a quiet but determined assertion, a declaration of his resolve to live again, with her, for as long as this brutal world would allow – and he intended it to be a long time. With another glance to the Sword, he let the sense of inquiry colour the bond. ‘What are your thoughts on… the Voice? Now?’ Because he remembered that first time he’d met Deimos too, that first impression, that apathy for all things god related, and he wanted to know if that had changed at all, with everything they’d been through.
to go anywhere that I please
CHULANE
