The Lost Islands
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i dream in phosphorescence

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It boded well in the stallion's eyes that the other turned to meet him rather than bound away across the sands. This furthered his curiosity but did not lessen his suspicion. Helios had been given very little reason to trust those who lived outside the Dunes. This was why he was so cool toward the buckskin though the other displayed no aggression.

There were no flashes of recognition in the copper stallion's eyes when Savaşçı mentioned his parents. Helios had not known either of them from Antares' herd in the brief time before his reign began. The lines of his face soften only a little at the fondness the boy tells him his sire had for the land. That sort of thing was something he had wanted to instill in his own children. Too often, he wondered if he was failing.

"I've never heard your father's name, Savaşçı." The name feels strange on his tongue, but it does not deter the Arabian in the slightest. He stands solidly upon the sands he rules, watchful of the stranger. "I think it's important for fathers to pass such things down to their children. You did well in taking charge and coming here." Acts of willful intention like that were commendable to the ruler.

"It's a thing of beauty, the Dunes," the copper king says with a fondness. "Treacherous though, it is as well." Sandstorms, jackals, freezing nights, rattlesnakes: these things and more lay hidden in the land and oases. Nevermind the shadow that chased his crown. "I'm glad you got to see it for yourself."

Helios


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