T A L O N
2 Glade 125
The temple was largely empty of any others at that time, save for the clergy that tended to the shrine. The Son of the Dragon King had come to pay his respects to his Divine Father. The soft light of Arcas’ nimbus illuminated the interior of the temple. The gentle rays of the sun’s first light were touching upon the city of Silfanore, ushered to caress the Crown City of Sol’Valen with that much more grace because of His presence. Was it the solemnity of Justice that caused a hush to fall over the temple? Was it the emotional swell of Hope that sprung forth from Him? Such was for mortals to decide on their own. The Temple of Eikaen Pater was serene that morning. The great shrine to his Divine Father was quiet, as though there were a breath being held. Perhaps there was. Perhaps it was his own.
He felt a great many things as he stared at the monument to his Divine Father. The gap that existed between himself and Eikaen was more than a physical one. Thousands of years had passed since his first life but for the gods, yesterday was as present as today. Every time he stepped into the Aetherium, embracing the fullness of his divinity, he relived every moment, every pain, every hardship and every joy. The pain of being just a little boy, sobbing among the ashes that fell from the skies on that terrible day, was just as present in that moment as it had been those many Ages ago.
Their reunion in the Halls of Pantheon had been…anticlimactic. As a god, he understood Eikaen’s position. He could, in-fact, fathom the vast weight of responsibility that rested upon the Dragon King’s shoulders. How could he not? While there was no comparing the scope of their divine obligations, his were far lesser, he could still grasp all that his Divine Father was. For even in that quiet moment, he could feel the ebb and flow of the Dragon King’s presence guiding the cosmic structure of the universe. As a Prince, he knew the weight of royal duties. The court of divine politics that the Dragon King had to deal with were magnitudes more complex than anything he had to face.
As a son…he could not help but want more. Perhaps that was because he and his Mortal Father had been close. Savien had been a dutiful sovereign but had been a steady and persistent presence that had made him recognize the strength found in the love of family. Part of him recognized that he would likely never have that sort of relationship with Eikaen. How could he? The world was not the young and mysterious place it once was. It had suffered too much damage in the Ages since the days Eikaen walked the world in the guise of a mortal man.
As his thumb brushed over the silver jewel that hung around his neck, he understood that the Dragon King showed him the care and grace that he could afford to.
The Draegir in him understood.
But the boy still mourned for what could have been. He suspected it would be many more years before that wound was fully healed.
Dressed in simple white garments and a white sash around his waist, the only object of finery he wore was the Gem of Order around his neck. Talon got down on his knees, adopting a meditative posture. He spread his wings out behind him then took the jewel from around his neck, cupping it lightly in the palms of his hands. He rubbed his thumbs over its surface, idly staring at Eikaen’s shrine in thought. He was not sure how long he sat there before he closed his eyes. Quietly, he paid his respects at the shrine of the Dragon King. He bowed his head in reverence. He steadied his breathing and he prayed just as any other worshipper would.

