Daedalus is, by nature, a most brooding boy.
One good look at him will tell anyone with sense that he is sired by the most serious and fierce warrior. His small, awkward shape is always held taut with discipline. There is no way to tell that behind his boyish, harsh face exists a blossoming world fostered by a lovely mother. A lovely mother that is in fact his only parent—where he developed such a consequential demeanor is a mystery.
The boy came out of the warm bark of his birthplace with a frown, one met by the delighted laugh of his magician mother. She exclaimed he will certainly be a fun one to raise and immediately tucked him into her side. The flat line of his unimpressed mouth has only ever broken once in his life (though short his life may be, shouldn’t children laugh more?).
The aforementioned smile came on a recent summer evening. Isilya was carefully braiding tropical flowers into the fast-growing fluff of Dae’s mane. The soft thrum of a made-up song about the planets orbiting the boy’s body filled his ears. His eyes were closed. He did not look happy, but he did look serene.
“Why don’t we name your little stars?” his mother murmured in between flowers.
Dae slowly blinked open neon magenta eyes, settling his mother with a serious gaze. He thought for a moment, peering almost-curiously at the orbs soaring around him. Suddenly, a brilliant smile turned his face into something as lovely as the breaking of a beautiful dawn. Isilya erupted into surprised laughter and started listing off the most regal names she could think of.
He’s taken to naming the stars in the sky every night since.
The stars are why he sits nestled amongst the Ruins. He is too young to know that this land and its strange rock formations are a source of alarm and suspicion around Beqanna, so he lays comfortably atop the tallest pillar he could find, staring endlessly into the twinkling night.
open c:
One good look at him will tell anyone with sense that he is sired by the most serious and fierce warrior. His small, awkward shape is always held taut with discipline. There is no way to tell that behind his boyish, harsh face exists a blossoming world fostered by a lovely mother. A lovely mother that is in fact his only parent—where he developed such a consequential demeanor is a mystery.
The boy came out of the warm bark of his birthplace with a frown, one met by the delighted laugh of his magician mother. She exclaimed he will certainly be a fun one to raise and immediately tucked him into her side. The flat line of his unimpressed mouth has only ever broken once in his life (though short his life may be, shouldn’t children laugh more?).
The aforementioned smile came on a recent summer evening. Isilya was carefully braiding tropical flowers into the fast-growing fluff of Dae’s mane. The soft thrum of a made-up song about the planets orbiting the boy’s body filled his ears. His eyes were closed. He did not look happy, but he did look serene.
“Why don’t we name your little stars?” his mother murmured in between flowers.
Dae slowly blinked open neon magenta eyes, settling his mother with a serious gaze. He thought for a moment, peering almost-curiously at the orbs soaring around him. Suddenly, a brilliant smile turned his face into something as lovely as the breaking of a beautiful dawn. Isilya erupted into surprised laughter and started listing off the most regal names she could think of.
He’s taken to naming the stars in the sky every night since.
The stars are why he sits nestled amongst the Ruins. He is too young to know that this land and its strange rock formations are a source of alarm and suspicion around Beqanna, so he lays comfortably atop the tallest pillar he could find, staring endlessly into the twinkling night.
open c: