paradise
summary: coming with your student to their home island isn’t something you should be doing. but you did. unfortunately, you forget to consider that the academy golden boy during your year also lives in that island. oh well.
pairing: speerly general!altan x sinegard colonel!reader
notes: somewhat fast-paced / cocky altan / reader is female / fluff !!! / try at banter / island living / the phoenix / rinkitay appearances! / somewhat mutual pining / reader is called dumplings as an inside joke during their batch btw!! (may or may not write a prequel part abt it)
disclaimer: i know we don’t have munch info on what speer was like BUT i wholeheartedly believe altan would be SUCHHHH a cocky and confident person had the speerly genocide not happen. he’s the island’s pride :p also i took creative liberty in the speerlies’ practices and way of living though i tried not to be too specific. be nice, pls!
"Rin, are you sure we won't get in trouble?"
Rin, who'd been sitting at the bow since the boat departed hours ago, shakes her head with a wide enthusiastic grin. "Oh I'm sure. You're gonna love it in the island," she assures you, eyes widening just a little more when the familiar silhouette of the island of Speer appears.
"I don't know… I'm feelin' a little too old for this," you cross your arms, leaning on a nearby wooden crate. Kitay strolls in, "Because you are. You're already working, while we're still studying."
"If I throw you off this boat you won't be studying," you shoot him a sharp glare before craning your head to the other side—to the island.
You weren't really a student of Sinegard Academy anymore… well, not for the past two years. You've graduated and enlisted in the Sinegardian Reserve Forces thanks to Jima's recommendation. Since then, you've worked part-time in Sinegard Academy as a secondary linguistic master.
Why exactly you're here now with two fourth-year Sinegard students is something you aren't really sure you could answer.
Sure, you were close with Rin and Kitay back during their first year in the academy but you didn't expect you'd leave such a lasting expression that even years after, the pair's still missing you. When you'd told Jima that Rin was inviting you to a three-day trip to Speer, you were even more surprised when she willingly let you off those four days and three nights you'd be gone.
Though you were partly suspicious that it was just so you could form better relations with the soldiers of Speer. After all, you still are a master of linguistics and relations through and through.
"Doubt it. Even at his grave, Kitay's probably packing a few books with him," Rin joins in with a snort, tipping her head back to drink.
"That I will," Kitay nods. "Wait, is that your cousin?"
Your eyebrows furrow, not expecting the boat to already be near enough for Kitay to start noticing familiar faces. There was still a reasonable amount of distance, meaning you still couldn't make out who was waiting by the shore to welcome the isle's number one trouble—Rin—alongside her friend and mentor.
When you hear a gleeful huff from Rin, the short woman shooting up with a wave of her hand. Responses came in the form of indistinct arm waves, blurs of brown brushing through the haze.
Somehow, the waters surrounding the isle had looked way better than they had been described in stories; hues of blue and green, soft sandy shores, with tall tropical trees as they say. The closer the boat drew to shore, the more people came. A specified few even carrying a plank-like piece of wood.
"Huh, he actually came by," you hear Rin say, tone lighthearted before she screams from the top of her lungs: "Altan! Altan!"
Altan, the cocky, overconfident Strategy student that's been on your nerves since the first day you got admitted to Sinegard Academy? The golden boy every master favored, every student fawned over?
That Altan?
"Mai'rinnen!"
It's him. It's definitely Altan Trengsin.
"We're almost there, c'mon, grab your packs," Rin says, running past you. "Kitay did you see my—" before she'd even finish it, Kitay was already grumbling, "I don't know, Rin! My attendants packed my stuff, not me!"
You ignore them, squinting your eyes. You grab a nearby spyglass, placing it by your eye only to harshly shove the piece of mech down.
Fuck!
The very first fave you see at the shore was Altan's.
"You didn't tell me Altan's your cousin," you stalk over the bickering duo, grabbing your own pack from the floor and hauling it over your shoulder. Rin's eyebrows raise innocently, "Dunno what you're talking about."
"Altan. That Trengsin boy. He's your cousin."
"Yeah…? I know?"
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She blinks at you skeptically. "I didn't even know you knew him in the first place. What's wrong—why're you worried about my cousin? Did something—"
"No!" You hurriedly respond, frantically shaking your head. "Gods no! We were classmates. Barely, really. He was always favored by the—" your words gets stopped as the boat comes to an abrupt stop, yells in native dialects filling your ears.
The plank is placed down and you begin to see speerlies come on the boat. Most of them hoisting the crates of supplies on their shoulders before heading down. Your body turns to the opposite direction as a voice, "Ah, glad you guys could made it."
"Hi Rin, Kitay, and—huh, is that you, Dumpling?"
You cringe, lips pulling to a tight smile as you lift your head up to face the half-surprised, half-irritating smirk on Altan Trengsin's face. He wore a simple red vest, vibrant and warm, decorated with beaded patterns by the shoulder. His trousers were patterned, reaching just above his knee as his waist adorned a flashy native ornament that seemed to distinguish him from the others that wore the same pieces of clothing.
Oh and he wore nothing underneath that vest. Nothing but that moon necklace you'd always see around his neck; bronzed skin illuminating against the piercing sun, muscles seemingly more defined than before.
You felt your throat drying up just a bit.
Mentally, you deliver an upper cut to yourself.
Focus! This was the bane of your existence back in the academy. Don't fawn over him now!
Oh but you couldn't just do that. Not when the sun's hitting his skin so perfectly that every feature on his face looked all the more regal. His purple-toned hair looked more apparent than they were back in the academy. He definitely built up muscle, too. Shoulders almost twice as broad as yours, biceps bulging around the bands of beads you found they commonly wore as accessories.
Altan crosses his arms, arching one brow. "It is you. Rin didn't tell me you'd be coming. Jima finally let you go or are you an emissary
"Actually, your cousin made me come," you speak to him for the first time in years. "Wouldn't wanna miss seeing her arrogant, one-of-a-kind, definitely not overconfident cousin."
He doesn't look too offended. If anything, he looked amused at you. Eyes glinting with something you're not quite sure. Next thing you know, he was hooking on a beaded necklace over your and Kitay's necks, taking your packs and hauling them away.
"Ever the gentleman," you comment with a slight sneer, adjusting the jewelry on your skin.
He snickers, one eyebrow raised, "Gotta make a good impression. This'll all come back to Jima, am I right?" Altan has that got you look on his face, lips inching up at the side.
"Funny," you comment just before Rin comes in between you two. Practically an infant with her height in comparison to both of yours. "Enough with the eye-fucking! Let's go, I miss mother," she zips past you and Altan with a hand around Kitay's wrist. Dragging the slim man behind her as the traditional necklace clanked around.
"What?!" You exclaimed, hand clutching the beads.
Altan snickers at them, offering no response to his younger cousin. He, instead, jerks his head to the speerlies behind him. He says something in their native tongue, an order of some sorts as the said speerlies let out a synchronized "Hah!" as they carry the crates with renewed vigor.
Then you feel two hands on your shoulders. "We leave them be," Altan tells you, proceeding to push you away from the other speerlies. "Follow Rin next time. It's easy to get lost in the island if you do not have a guide."
"So, what, you're my guide for now?" You cross your arms.
He rolls his eyes, only for a subtle grin to form, "Sure."
You grimace, shrugging off his hands and walking two steps ahead. You hear Altan's distant chuckle as he takes one big stride towards you to match paces.
On the way to the village, you couldn't help but notice the paradise surrounding you; kids played around the shore, running around and throwing balls at each other. Some were climbing the trees, some were dancing with older speerlies, some were helping out the small fishing boats from carrying out pails of freshly caught seafood.
The entire place looked and felt peaceful. It was a stark contrast from the densely populated and fast-moving environment in Sinegard. Here, everything seemed to anchor on letting time pass by leisurely.
When the both of you arrived at the village, a small gathering area marked by a communal fire pit in the middle, you spot Rin at the other side, hugging an older woman you're sure her mother. The woman's hair is long and silky, colorful beads draped all over her patterned clothing. Features too similar with Rin's in a sharper, more mature way.
Everybody's attention shifted from the pair of Sinegard students to you and Altan. A rather skeptical look settling on their faces when you halt, a feeling of uneasiness appearing in your chest.
It doesn't last long, though, because a loud voice from behind quickly fills the stiff air. Your name left his lips first, gesturing towards you as he continued, "A master of linguistics at Sinegard Academy," you wait for him to continue but it never comes. So you stomp on his feet, subtly, looking up at him with a well-hidden glare.
"Colonel of the Sinegardian Reserve Forces," you correct with a stiff smile to the speerlies.
"I forgot," you're a hundred percent sure he didn't.
Nevertheless, you were thankful to be welcomed by a crowd of smiles and acknowledging nods.
A decorated speerly woman comes to you and holds your hand, holding it in between both of hers as she stared at you with a look of welcome. The stretches on her face made her seem all the more mature, like every word she'd speak would be of utmost wisdom.
"It is our pleasure to have you at the isle of Speer, colonel," she gives a shallow bow, one you quickly responded with a deeper kind, basically going down on one knee. You didn't have to be a genius to know the woman's position in the island. "O-oh, I, uh—it's my pleasure, believe me. Please, you can address me plainly. I did not come here as a colonel, I came as a friend."
"I thought you came as Jima Lain's emissary?" Altan mutters, suddenly feeling his breath by your shoulder.
You twist your body, nose almost coming in contact with the skin of his cheek with how close he'd been. Your eyes widen just a bit, feeling your breath stagger for a moment there. "I did not—"
A laugh stops you on the spot, this time from Hanelai, Rin's mother. "Please, it's okay," she assures you, proceeding to look at Altan with that kind of look only a mother would be capable of doing. "She just got here, Altan. You should be fixing her living quarters right now. Rin is already dragging that poor curly-haired boy to his." Altan retracts back to his original height, lips pursing with a huff.
"Oh, no! It's fine, I can fix my own quarters. I'll just find Rin again and talk to her I can get settled in perfectly," your voice raises in pitch, definitely trying to seem even nicer than before.
"Good luck with that," Altan blows off a breath, "I doubt you'd last twenty minutes if we leave you to find Rin."
"Altan," the higher ranking woman says sternly. You wince. "Stop your attitude. Bring this lady to her quarters so she may rest. Gods know how long they've been at sea."
"It was just a two-hour ride, mother."
Your ears perk up.
Mother? This woman, this respected, honorable, powerful lady in front of you is Altan Trengsin's mother?
Huh. Where'd he get such an overbearing personality then?
"Your son really needs some attitude management," you blurt out so suddenly, unable to hold yourself back.
The look of surprise on her face had you worry for a moment. Contemplating whether or not you should've spoken, after all, you're the visitor here. You should be respecting the leader's son no matter how irritating he is.
But she laughs, surprisingly. Her eyes wrinkling into crescent moons as she does. "I suppose you're right, colonel. It's been a long time since I gave my son a scolding." She touches your shoulder, a warm touch. "I hope to see you a lot more later, my dear. First, you must rest." She sends a look over at Altan, the simple gesture prompting him to walk past you with a mumble of fine, follow me.
The moment you were shown to your room, you fall asleep at the first touch of the bed. Unlike your quarters back in Sinegard, the bed was a decently sized cushion above a bamboo-made bed frame. The cushion had its own cover, some thin fabric that seemed to cool off the island heat.
You spent the entire day asleep, which was actually a surprise. You hadn't expected yourself to be tired out by the journey but oh well. When you left your hut, Rin and Kitay were on their way to you, both of them now changed into a lighter, airier attire as they call you for dinner.
Dinner was an entire experience in itself. The food was fresh, savory, and very fucking delicious. You forgot about the travesty that was academy food the more meat skewers you took, or the more refills you had of that peculiar juice they took from the gigantic circular fruits lying around.
Everyone encouraged you to take more. Linara, the ruler of Speer—who also happens to be Altan's mother, sat with you throughout the dinner. More dedicated than anyone to keep your plate full and overflowing. She sat in quiet reverence as she listened to stories told by Rin, added onto Kitay's knowledge by sharing some of the island's history.
The dinner wrapped up with traditional performances around the fire. Little speerlies dancing around their element, the older ones providing the music with their percussion instrument, meanwhile you watched in absolute awe.
It was incredible. Peaceful, really.
All you've ever heard about the isle was that it was an island of warriors, of strong-willed shamans that summoned inhumanly powers through the Phoenix; but they're really just humans, in every way.
.
.
.
.
"How is she doing that so fast?" You watched with a gape mouth, a child definitely not older than ten was climbing the tall, bended tree with their eyes fixated on the bundle of fruits beneath its leaves.
Altan was beside you. Apparently he'd make good on his word to be your island guide for the time being, though you honestly believe you'd appreciate the island more in his absence.
"It's just a game," Altan tells you, "Children as young as seven climb those trees. The fruit at the top is a good reward." He whistles at the kid above, watching as she pull out an outrageously large blade from the band she had across her body.
You all but gasp, "That's dangerous!"
"Don't yell, you'll scare her," he says pointedly, looking back at the girl with narrowed eyes. You didn't notice him looking so sharply at her, arms crossed and feet seemingly ready to dart out.
You watch as the blade cuts through the thick roots of the fruits, yelling something you couldn't understand. The children at the base of the tree ran away to where you and Altan stood, giddy smiles on their faces as the girl resumed her actions.
Soon enough, the fruit fell heavily. Indenting itself onto the sand as more of it fell down until the entire top of the tree had been free of those circular clusters.
You glance at Altan, noticing the subtle pleased smile. When he suddenly looks back at you, your head turns slower than you planned. You hear him snicker, "C'mon, you gotta taste this."
Altan runs to the base of the tree, stretching out his arms as the girl slid down carefully before releasing herself and landing in Altan's arms. He places her down on the sand, the girl rushing to join her friends as they gather around the bundle.
A plethora of cheers and applause surrounded the small circle, most of which were clapping the young girl's back. You couldn't help but smile, such a unique game for children.
"Tilt your head back," you feel a nudge at your shoulder. Altan. He's holding one of those fruits in the palm of his hand, the other wrapped around the hilt of a machete. "Excuse me?" You step back, eyebrows knitting together as you look at him like he'd grown three heads.
"I meant taste this. We don't have a cup right now so you'd just have to drink it directly from the source." He slots his machete somewhere in the fruit, pulling that hand back so as to open something you're not quite sure of.
"Is it safe?"
Altan snorts, "No, it's poisonous, obviously."
You scoff, arms crossing over your chest. Altan sheathes back his machete before taking a step towards you, his free hand now gliding to the back of your head.
"Are you serious?" You put a hand out, kind of weary of such proximity.
Altan closes the distance, standing to your side with his feet spread, one hand gripping the base of the fruit firmly. "Don't be a coward. It's just fruit," he lets out an annoyed breath, "It's good, trust me."
"Well give me then—" you try to reach for the fruit, just to reduce whatever this was and actually taste it for yourself without needing his help—but he holds the fruit higher. "It's heavy. Just tilt your head back and open your mouth. Not that hard, Dumplings."
You glare at him, he glares back.
Then, you hold out a finger, "No funny business," you raise your eyebrows at him and he simply mumbles: "yeah, yeah, just drink it." All while you let your head rest ever so carefully on the palm of his other hand, mouth opening.
Finally, when the first stream of liquid hits your throat, perfectly aimed to not spill down your chin or the front of your body, an instant sweetness consumes your tastebuds.
It wasn't like those overly sweet drinks sold in the markets during festivals, it wasn't even anything like the ones sold in taverns or establishments. This is refreshing. It was the right amount of sweet and nutty, the rich taste of it immersing you even more because of course, this kind of fruits grew in islands like these.
When Altan takes the fruit away, he pushes your head back from its tilt carefully. A small anticipatory grin forming on his lips.
"What, it's good huh?" Clearly he knows the answer, he's just waiting for you to say it.
"Yeah," you look away as you answer, not really wanting to see that look of I told you so from him.
He chuckles loudly, throwing his own head back and taking his own serving of the liquid. He's doing it more messily though, with a few trickles straying and dripping down the side of his lips. That makes you look away again, feeling a random rush in your stomach.
Altan lets out a raspy that's good all whilst smacking his lips. He turns his head to the crowd of children now watching the girl from earlier try to whack the center of the fruit.
Wordlessly, he grabs at the sleeve of your airy tunic—something you finally changed into after your morning bath—and pulls you to the small group.
"Gather 'round, quick," Altan says to the group, standing beside the girl. "We have a guest here so we have to show her what this is, alright?" A choir of yes! erupts, some glancing at you, while most of the kids' eyes kept themselves on Altan. Rounding as they watch Altan smoothly pick up a piece of fruit, asking for the girl's blade.
"This is called a coconut," he begins, tapping the firm green shell with the blunt side of the machete. "When it's fully ripe, coconuts fall down on their own. When they don't, you can climb up a tree and get some for yourself," in one skillful whack, the blade horizontally slices the top of the coconut. Not fully, just enough to make a notch.
From there Altan gave each kid an opportunity to get a generous amount of the juice, their little cheers and mutters of gratitude making both you and him smile.
When the first coconut gets emptied out, Altan whacks it one more time before handing off the blade to the girl. Then, you feel your throat dry out as his biceps flex shamelessly under the golden sun. Two big hands held the coconut, veins protruding just enough for you to know he's putting in some force. The coconut look unusually smaller in between his hands.
Time passes by traitorously. You don't even notice Altan's eyes on you until he and all the others were calling out your name.
"What?" You swallow involuntarily, blinking.
Altan huffs out a breath, smirking off to the side as he walks over to you with an offering. You look down and it's actually the coconut torn in half, its milky white interior surprising you.
"I said it has meat, too. It's chewy and sweet. Try it," he jerks his head, instructing you to take one of the pieces he'd sliced off already. You take in the deep breath, mentally slapping yourself again as you take a piece and eat it without any other complaints.
"It's good," you say, the meat melting in your mouth. Providing even more refreshment than the juice. "Really good."
"Really?" Altan raises an eyebrow.
Your forehead creases, "Yeah, why?"
He shakes his head, pursing his lips before handing it to you to eat. He takes the other half and slices it up. That he gives to the children.
"Give me a second, I'll just cut these up for them," Altan says, uncharacteristically genuine. Nevertheless you nod, walking over to a small stump to the side and sitting down as you eat the coconut.
Damn you. He's teaching the kids and you're thinking of… things?
Physically, you actually slap yourself on the forehead. You gotta stop whatever this is. You're there for a vacation, not something more.
You spent just a little over ten minutes at that little stump, having brought to a training-like facility by Altan as your designated—or self-proclaimed—island guide.
It was an indentation in the island's mountain, an opening to the cave. Firm orders could be heard even from outside, both womanly and manly voices mixing together with the loud thumps of people getting thrown down onto the stone ground.
Altan halted, you do too. Both of you watching from afar as two speerlies sparred each other. Two fully-grown women with tribal markings on their backs. One of them, the slimmer one, had shorter hair, her neck bleeding a slight crimson color due to the rock that had sliced it after being pummeled down. The longer haired was muscular, yet dark purple spots bloomed on her arms as well.
"Colonel, I'm happy you're here," Hanelai speaks, suddenly coming from your right. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"General! Yes, actually. I drank some coconut earlier. I spoke with some kids too," you smile, both you and Hanelai keeping your eyes glued to the spar. "Altan had told me this is where the warriors of Speer are trained?"
"As a start, yes. Altan and Rin both went through here before they finished it in the temple." She glances to the side, at the man beside her.
"The temple?"
Hanelai turns to you now, the curious look on your features as you look at her seemingly catching her off-guard. "Temple of the Phoenix. We pray to our god in there. In fact, later today we will be going there for our offering—though I am not sure if the queen will allow us—"
"It's fine!" You interject, hands shooting out, "I don't mind. I can stay with Kitay anyways."
Truth be told, seeing the temple had been one of your plans. Rin had told you all about it on the way to the island.
A grand shrine that housed the grand sculpture of the Phoenix, with its gigantic wings unfurled and calling out for life. Rin said it was unlike any of the shrines one could go to in Nikan. The energy, unrivaled. The beauty, unparalleled.
The one and only place a person, speerly-born or not, could feel the presence of such a powerful god.
In the end, Hanelai's bidding you farewell. Hoping you'd join their family for dinner. Telling you where to find that damned pair that's been running around the whole day as well.
Your eyes immediately get caught with Altan's as she walks away. The towering specimen of man looking at you with such expressionless eyes that it made you feel irrelevant.
You square your shoulders, shaking off the feeling as you turn back and watch the rest of the match.
.
.
.
.
Rin had informed you—prior to even going to the island—of the hours-long devotions that the speerlies partake every fifth day of the week. Such devotions that usually meant a night of fasting considering that by the time they get back to the village, everyone would be too busy to cook anything.
That's why, fortunately, you and Kitay offered to cook for that night. A simple Sinegardian dinner, really, nothing too fancy. You and Kitay, with the ingredients, spices, and herbs you'd brought, plus the meat that had been caught during the day.
Kitay definitely didn't know how to cook, having been saved simply by his burning desire to learn how to cook. You, on the other hand, made do with whatever knowledge you had from years of living alone after graduating from Sinegard Academy.
Nonetheless, the speerlies graciously ate everything. If they didn't like it, well, you and Kitay would never know.
Once dinner finished, you all went back to your huts. Usually, you take a half-bath at night to keep yourself cool throughout the night but, unfortunately, fate clearly had a different objective.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" You whisper-yell, jutting your head out past the door and looking at the neighboring huts. Altan slips into your hut, a good-for-nothing grin on his face. He wore warmer clothes, an airy lapiz tunic and some shorts. "You should be resting right now!"
"Calm down, you're so loud," Altan huffs, ignoring you and exploring your temporary living space with a twist of his head. "We're going somewhere."
"Excuse me?"
His eyes lock with yours, an ambiguous grin forming on his lips when he reaches over to the foot of your bed and throws you the crocheted cape the villagers and offered you during your first day.
"We're going out. Unless you're scared," he leans against the wall, raising an eyebrow at you.
You scoff. "More like sane. Who the hell goes out in the middle of the night in an island they don't even know? And, you just got back from your worship you're tired—"
"You worried about me, colonel?"
You stop abruptly, staring at him with your mouth hanging. Your mind malfunctions for a moment before you feel it—the faintest of color creeping up in your cheeks faster than you'd like to admit. The heat from your face fighting off the strong winds of the island.
A gruff sound of irritation leaves your throat, landing your fist on his shoulder and he all but moves. That damned smirk still on his face, staring you down in a way that you wondered if it was him being cocky or him being condescending.
Nevertheless, you hated it. Hated how it made your insides churn just like earlier when he'd offered to open those pile of coconuts for the children.
"I couldn't care less about you, Trengsin," you say, though your head had been turned the other way now. "Gods, you're as irritating as you were during Sinegard."
You hear him scoff. Foot steps coming closer until you feel familiar hands on your shoulders again. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. If you're done acting difficult, we can leave now and be back before sunrise," you feel a slight push from behind you, as if urging you to step towards the door. "You'll still have your beauty sleep, don't worry. If you get tired, I'll carry you down anyway."
"Carry me down?!" You exclaim. Your eyes widened, brows creased heavily. "Altan Trengsin, where are we going?"
He simply pushes you to the door as a response.
.
.
.
.
Up the island's mountain, past the bountiful forest that Altan somehow manage to navigate the two of you through amidst the utter darkness, the shrine of the Phoenix stood. A hollowed circle surrounded by trees, covered heavily by the vegetation.
In the middle was the monument. The Phoenix's wings spread wide, a ravenous expression carved onto its face as if calling for destruction; its as Rin had described it—magnificent.
Even before you could step foot on the actual shrine, you could feel the hairs on your arms standing up. The air surrounding you seemingly warmer than before, sweat prickling your skin in a way that did not feel real.
Altan's hand, the one which he somehow managed to talk you into holding your wrist, tightens. You notice his breath hitch. A flare of red flashing through his crimson irises.
"We're here," he says, voice reverent.
You decide against a snarky remark like no shit, or obviously. Instead, you simply nod and watch from afar.
You're a brave woman. Braver than people would want to admit, yet at that moment, the presence of the Phoenix trampled over whatever sense of bravery you had in you. Even at its stationary position, you could feel its eyes darting down at you, sizing you from where it stood.
"Hey," a gargled voice, faint and worried, calls at you. You stay fixated on the monument. Legs moving on their own as you take another step forward. "Hey. Are you okay? Are you tired?" The hand around your wrist left and went to your face instead. Both of Altan's hands cradling the sides of your face.
He calls out your name, your eyes wander onto his face. His usually stoic and calm demeanor now looked agitated, as if unsure of what to do.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," you hold a hand up only for it to fall forward onto Altan's shoulder. From where you could see, the Phoenix was moving behind him. Head cocking to the side, watching you both. "Oh gods, it's… It's moving—Altan, the monument is—"
"That's enough," not needing any more words, Altan lifts you up. One hand by your shoulders, the other under your knees. You kept your head fixed at the center of the shrine, locked at the eerie movements of the should-be unmoving monument.
"I'm getting you back to your hut," Altan lets out a sharp breath, weaving through the trees skillfully. "You're right, I should have just let you slept."
"Told you," you unintentionally chuckle. You let your head fall back, staring at the night sky. The string of stars looked familiar to you. When you squint, shutting off the environment around you, only then did you recognize it.
The sixty-four constellations.
"Altan. The stars," you point gently. The soldier's head tilts up. He chuckles, strained and airy at the same time, "Yeah. They usually do come at this time."
Silence stretches between the two of you. A minute, two—hell, five maybe?
You don't know how long it took. Only thing you know is that somehow, by some cruel turn of events, you spent the night underneath the blanket of the sixty-four constellations beside Altan.
And even at your sleepiest, you still manage to hear the faintest: "Someday, the Phoenix will accept you. Us."
hearts, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! xoxo