celestial nexus

HARPER

The lighthouse shrine is the one Harper visits most often, though it’s not the one he has had the pleasure of speaking to Safrin at the most times. He comes very frequently - in fact he’s pleased the stained glass he and Deimos had installed still stands unmarred, depicting Safrin in various artistic ways Harper is not capable of doing himself - but even now he has not learned to ask for things the way Phoebe so often chided him to. Maybe that’s why he does, now. Without her things are so very different; left with the task of rearing a newborn son, helping Maeve as a councilman, and trying to prepare for a war he’d always told himself might take his life, but would never leave Jude orphaned.

Except now, it might.

So now things must change.

“Safrin, are you there?” He never doubts she is in spirit. Always listening, always attentive to his prayers, as she’d promised from the first they’d met. But he asks, this time, for her presence. Food was normally more of a gift for Frey, but Frey’s beauty is allure - Harper brings sweet berries and cream because he would love to see Safrin’s pale, graceful fingers pluck them from their stems. Beauty was not the power of just one herald after all. Perhaps they could share a late night snack, if she had the freedom to answer.

oh poor atlas, the world's a beast of a burden
and you've been holding on a very long time

the stories i could tell

On wings which were entirely silent comes a creature seemingly composed from moonlight tinged with all the colours of a solar wind. Landing on one of the lavish and decorative pillars that surrounded Safrin's altar, the owl peers at Harper with wide and starbright eyes.

HARPER

Nearly silent in its arrival, the owl is spotted only once the soft scrape of talons touch on stone, lifting a head bowed in contemplative reverence. At first he’s merely curious, but the starlit eyes make Harper’s lips turn at the corners, softening. “Hello beautiful,” he greets instead, unsure if transforming into a similar avian form would be of any use or if the owl would even be able to respond beyond the normal clicks and hoots.

Standing, he gently plucks a few of the berries from his offering from their stems and holds them in his palm, rising to offer them to the owl from a fair distance - arm fully outstretched to give the beautiful creature its space. “I’m sure Safrin won’t mind sharing a little, if you’re hungry.”

oh poor atlas, the world's a beast of a burden
and you've been holding on a very long time

the stories i could tell

Turning its head the owl looks at the berries in Harper's hand and then back up again. While owls in general were opportunistic hunters and have been known to eat berries and the like, this was no regular owl, and certainly not in need of handouts. Fanning its wings to reveal pale galaxies and swarms of starlight within its feathers, the owl lifts itself from the altar and flies through the open window towards the ocean.

~FIN