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Description

It wasn't for his lack of trying, really.

When his den is found with days-old scent and no one can recall the last time they'd seen the small herbalist, remember that. It wasn't with an easy heart he made his decision and parts of him still wish he'd gone back to the cliffs, made peace with his inability to make peace, and tend the members of Skydas as he'd learned how. Alas, as it goes, a wayward heart can never really find home.

With those he cares for in the south and those on the cliffs... distant from him, feeling a pull toward something he could call his and yet no understanding of how to do that—to find that, Alcyone decides to step away, to rid those he cares for of the innate burden he'd force upon them with his uncertainty and to save the pain of those who are none the wiser.

It's at dawn break. The sun creeps to bring an autumn chill. The seaside grasses blow around him.

This is his quiet swan song.

He wishes he knew how to stay. The unknown always scared him.

And yet, before another soul can find him, can need him, can want him...

...Alcyone turns his back on the ocean and parts to the Freelands,

leaving Skydas.

Alcyone retires, alone, leaving but a trace of his existence in a wilting sunflower tucked in his den—surrounded by his favored seashells.

Description

It wasn't for his lack of trying, really.

When his den is found with days-old scent and no one can recall the last time they'd seen the small herbalist, remember that. It wasn't with an easy heart he made his decision and parts of him still wish he'd gone back to the cliffs, made peace with his inability to make peace, and tend the members of Skydas as he'd learned how. Alas, as it goes, a wayward heart can never really find home.

With those he cares for in the south and those on the cliffs... distant from him, feeling a pull toward something he could call his and yet no understanding of how to do that—to find that, Alcyone decides to step away, to rid those he cares for of the innate burden he'd force upon them with his uncertainty and to save the pain of those who are none the wiser.

It's at dawn break. The sun creeps to bring an autumn chill. The seaside grasses blow around him.

This is his quiet swan song.

He wishes he knew how to stay. The unknown always scared him.

And yet, before another soul can find him, can need him, can want him...

...Alcyone turns his back on the ocean and parts to the Freelands,

leaving Skydas.

Alcyone retires, alone, leaving but a trace of his existence in a wilting sunflower tucked in his den—surrounded by his favored seashells.