and I discovered that my castles stand
upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
This was the fourth place he’s called home, and as the decades tick past it’s becoming the place with the longest hold on him. He’d like the Tundra, the Wildflower Plateau, and the Golden Plains, but they had never been home the way that this place was. Perhaps it is death and the ties of the afterlife that bind him here, the knowledge that his body truly belongs beneath the water where it will one day return. It does not feel so morbid though, and he looks at the waterfall as Estonia does, imagining for a moment that he is seeing it for the first time.
The silvery granite that makes up the majority of the stone of the waterfall glints here and there with quartz, and is streaked with pink and black and white, all shimmering in the mist-filled air. The caves behind the waterfall are just barely visible as a dark shadow, and the pool where the water falls is so deep that light doesn’t reach the bottom. Beautiful is right, he thinks, and turns back to look at Estonia.
She doesn’t immediately admit to being a warrior, but she seems open to possibility. The bay mare asks if they’ll have her, and says response. “Of course we’ll have you,” he pauses for a moment, “We welcome most anyone here.” It’s an unfamiliar friendliness, but he’s slowly been realizing that it’s well past time that he drop the careless act. That was true, at some point, but he’s been living alone in this kingdom for nearly a year, and he can no longer say that he doesn’t care.
“I’m fine,” he says, well aware that it’s more than obvious that he is not telling the truth. He doesn’t try to hide it, and for that reason alone the lie itself is softened. “I imagine everyone feels like this when they realize they lead a kingdom.” He’s not ever said the words aloud before, but as he does he realizes that that is what had been missing. He’d claimed inactivity due to inactive leaders, but the responsibility was his own. His responsibility, and now his kingdom.
texas
