If I Could Give You the Moon [Hearth’s Day][Private]
Feb 20, 2023 16:08:48 GMT -5
Post by Cyran Fenastra-Asiliari on Feb 20, 2023 16:08:48 GMT -5
This year’s Hearth’s Day had given Cyran much to think about. It had been the first one in a decade that he had spent in the company of others, and possibly the first in his life that he’d enjoyed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so… grounded, rather than simply adrift through the realm, no true tethers to keep him cemented in his humanity. But in the past few months, he’d met many people that had somehow become as a part of his own life as intrinsically as his own magic, and before he realized it, Cyran had friends and even a family. But even more so, the past few weeks had shown him that perhaps he could afford to stop being so withdrawn.
And yet, now that he was here, he couldn’t shake the anxiety that plagued him.
His nerves felt silly, really. Cyran shouldn’t have had any doubts about asking Iryla if she wished to be more than just an… apprentice? Ward? Barring the fact he had no idea how she might react - offense, or even disgust - Iryla deserved much better than the home he could give her. Cyran didn’t even have a last name to offer her, much less the peace and stability a teenager deserved. One only had to look at everything Zarius had been capable of giving her and more… a roof over her head, clothes, and food when Cyran had nothing to offer considering he rarely had more than a few solars to his name. He’d given her training, of course, but she was a teenage girl. Her life should not be focused on thievery and sneaking around when there was so much life she’d yet to experience.
Cyran couldn’t give her grandiose adventures, or high-quality trips to Sol City, but he would be damned if he didn’t do what he could for her. The outing he’d planned might have been silly or sentimental, but Iryla had helped him become accustomed to Darkveil. Some small part of him wanted to share a bit of his old home with her in turn. Cyran felt no longing for his old haunts, not anymore. He had settled into Darkveil, and despite its shortcomings, he was… happy there. But there was beauty in Moonglade, and there was no harm in attempting to make new memories here. To dig out the twisted roots that had once been grown here and transform them into something new. And perhaps Iryla would enjoy spending time in nature that was more vibrant than the criminal-infested Deadwoods of the Ash Lands.
He gripped the basket in his hands - a momentary nervous tic. He sighed, smoothing out the gingham cloth that covered the food he’d brought with him. Was this venture foolish? For all his care when it came to taking care of others, Cyran fell woefully short when it came to… family activities. He’d not experienced them in his own youths. There had been no picnics or outings in the Fenastra Clan. There had not been much at all, really. There was no way for him to know if he’d missed the mark completely. Yes, this was silly, they’d best turn around now before he embarrassed himself further-
No. They’d come out this far, he would just have to stick it out, and hope it wasn’t too - what was the youth saying these days? - lame.
At least Luna Lake was lovely at this time of evening. Cyran remembered spending time here watching the sunset and the moonrise, thinking that the night sky was beautiful when reflected against the lake’s surface. There were even a few small rowboats propped up against the shore that they could take should they want to go out onto the water. The trek thus far had mostly been silent, attempting at small talk every once in a while, but neither truly breaking the silence yet. Not until Cyran came to a stop at a grassy patch near the lake, surveying the area with a critical eye, before giving a satisfied nod.
“Here should work.” He decided, turning to Iryla. “The food is still warm… would you like to help me set up?” There wasn’t much besides a blanket, some plates, and the food itself, but two sets of hands were better than one.
And yet, now that he was here, he couldn’t shake the anxiety that plagued him.
His nerves felt silly, really. Cyran shouldn’t have had any doubts about asking Iryla if she wished to be more than just an… apprentice? Ward? Barring the fact he had no idea how she might react - offense, or even disgust - Iryla deserved much better than the home he could give her. Cyran didn’t even have a last name to offer her, much less the peace and stability a teenager deserved. One only had to look at everything Zarius had been capable of giving her and more… a roof over her head, clothes, and food when Cyran had nothing to offer considering he rarely had more than a few solars to his name. He’d given her training, of course, but she was a teenage girl. Her life should not be focused on thievery and sneaking around when there was so much life she’d yet to experience.
Cyran couldn’t give her grandiose adventures, or high-quality trips to Sol City, but he would be damned if he didn’t do what he could for her. The outing he’d planned might have been silly or sentimental, but Iryla had helped him become accustomed to Darkveil. Some small part of him wanted to share a bit of his old home with her in turn. Cyran felt no longing for his old haunts, not anymore. He had settled into Darkveil, and despite its shortcomings, he was… happy there. But there was beauty in Moonglade, and there was no harm in attempting to make new memories here. To dig out the twisted roots that had once been grown here and transform them into something new. And perhaps Iryla would enjoy spending time in nature that was more vibrant than the criminal-infested Deadwoods of the Ash Lands.
He gripped the basket in his hands - a momentary nervous tic. He sighed, smoothing out the gingham cloth that covered the food he’d brought with him. Was this venture foolish? For all his care when it came to taking care of others, Cyran fell woefully short when it came to… family activities. He’d not experienced them in his own youths. There had been no picnics or outings in the Fenastra Clan. There had not been much at all, really. There was no way for him to know if he’d missed the mark completely. Yes, this was silly, they’d best turn around now before he embarrassed himself further-
No. They’d come out this far, he would just have to stick it out, and hope it wasn’t too - what was the youth saying these days? - lame.
At least Luna Lake was lovely at this time of evening. Cyran remembered spending time here watching the sunset and the moonrise, thinking that the night sky was beautiful when reflected against the lake’s surface. There were even a few small rowboats propped up against the shore that they could take should they want to go out onto the water. The trek thus far had mostly been silent, attempting at small talk every once in a while, but neither truly breaking the silence yet. Not until Cyran came to a stop at a grassy patch near the lake, surveying the area with a critical eye, before giving a satisfied nod.
“Here should work.” He decided, turning to Iryla. “The food is still warm… would you like to help me set up?” There wasn’t much besides a blanket, some plates, and the food itself, but two sets of hands were better than one.