No guts, No glory
Late Spring had bloomed over the Crossing, chasing away the darkness of Winter and offering a breath of fresh air to the broad-shouldered young stallion, as if breathing life back into the world. It was almost cheery enough to make him forget the reason why he'd left in the first place, but not quite. Osiris' death lingered heavily in the back of his mind, coloring every new experience he encountered.
The impact her death had on him had little to do with her importance in his life. From a very young age, Theseus had understood that Osiris' relationship with their father had been a complicated one, and that she resented that Rehoboam now lived with her as she started her new life. For that reason, they had never become close. But Osiris was still the first creature he had ever met whose death he had been alive to mourn and it was a hard fact to escape from.
It made him worry for his mother and other siblings, most of whom remained unknown to him. Were they alive? Had they passed? If they had, would he ever know?
The complicated layer of emotions is what drove him to the Commons, which had - thus far - given him the happiest moment of his life. His time with Rhiannon had not lasted long, but he often replayed those first few moments of conversation in his mind to give him a mood boost whenever he was glum.
Granted, he wasn't even sure that he still had a spot on the Ruins, but he rather liked the idea of finding someone to go back there with him to see, first. That way, if there was nothing, he would still have someone to distract him from the weight of the bad news. And if it was still open? Then he could claim it and start over anew with whoever he found.
Grinning at the brilliance of his own strategy, Theseus jogged into the Crossing until he found a small hillock that afforded him a fair view of the open meadow. No one was here yet, but he knew all too well how popular this area got and so he settled in to wait eagerly, anticipation written plain across his handsome face.
no legend, no story