seliph doesn’t step back & peer from behind the white horse. at first, he only assumes the voice belongs to one of the stablehands in the monastery’s employ. or perhaps a student like himself; he did hear the academy delegates students to tasks around the grounds. but don’t such chores fall to the early morning & late afternoon hours? regardless, the scion hopes his presence won’t disturb them.
the horse neighs. & the very same voice soon addresses seliph. he turns to the stranger, smiling, with reassurances already on his tongue. yet, his smile drops / the words die in his throat. blue eyes widen ever so slightly in disbelief. could it be…?
“fa—” father, seliph almost says but stops himself. uncertainty gnaws at his mind.
(does your father even know who you are? wouldn’t a father recognize his child?)
“it’s all right. i believed i was the only one here ——— aside from the horses, of course,” seliph settles on with a shake of his head. a small but hesitant smile graces his lips.
his gaze returns to celice. & oh, it now hits seliph how close her name is to his! “yes, i suppose… she reminds me of my own.” perhaps it isn’t such a coincidence she resembles the horse he left back on the jugdrali soil. if it weren’t for the subtle differences, seliph could almost mistake her for the same breed the lords of house chalphy favor.
the young man falls into awkward silence. what is he even supposed to say? never once in seliph’s life would he have imagined himself standing before his father like this. his father, who, by some miracle, is alive. alive and well and here to feed his steed, by the looks of it——
baldr’s scion backs away a few steps. “oh, i’m sorry! i must have been in your way.”
he sets the wooden pails down for only a moment, figuring to take a moment to converse with the student that reminds him so deeply of his own son. "horses are very intelligent, you know. you might as well have been talking with a real person." he says with as honest a laugh he can manage.
his heart does not settle, even when he wishes it would. the thought of finally seeing his son again— not only that but to see him grown was not something he could simply pass over. when he had left seliph with oifey and shannan before belhalla, sigurd had never imagined seeing his family again.
he expected death, after all.
the silence between them eats away at him, and when the student backs away sigurd can no longer hide his true feelings. "you-" he coughs into his now free hand, clearing his throat. "i'm sorry, this might be terribly awkward... your name wouldn't happen to be seliph, would it?"
