Ocean's Breath Plateau just got to see me through another day

there was a peace to the process of dying.

for many moments over his lifetime, he'd assumed his number was up. whether quickly in combat or misadventure, or slowly by pestilent fever. . . yet, each time, he had endured. alive. relatively whole.

this past year had felt more like a sunset over the great waters of the west, and the days to come the last vestiges of glittering light upon the waves. he watched it now, sitting quietly on the beach, the darkness coming gradually over his still form. 

it was a misty evening; he could have been a ghost, contemplative as he was among the swirling fog.

he would not see the stars tonight, nor perhaps again, unless the persistent winter storms broke soon and sent the clouds astray. but he'd seen stars aplenty and knew their shapes well. they were up there, regardless of perception.

it was pleasant enough with just the tides to keep him company—and perhaps someone or another would join him here, too.

Chagak could not readily recall when Aditya had come into his life. The interest of three added children had eclipsed the fact that a grandfather had come with them, and by the time the excitement had worn off, Aditya had become grandfather to him, too.

He was plenty old enough now to understand what a grandfather was, and to know that Aditya was not the father of Marina or Chakliux or even Tullik. But, by the time this had been made clear to him, he already held the man dear. He could not imagine his life without any of his trusted adults, and yet, he was now being faced with that very thing.

Tullik had gone. Marina disappeared. His own father —

Aditya was what he had left. Was the most familiar to him, after all that had befallen their families over his short little life. He came to him now wreathed in melancholy, and though the sorrow remained, Chagak felt some of that terrible weight melt off of his shoulders.

"What are you thinking of?" Chagak asked, hoping that he, too, could learn this trick of lying still and calm under the night sky.

chagak. he was grandchild of his heart, if not by blood. dutch had claimed love to marina, and so only the gods knew who had sired this near-yearling. 

but it didn't matter. aditya turned and smiled at the young man, nodding at his side for the other to sit.

life and death, he admitted, though it may seem morbid to chagak's ears. mortality was so much easier dealt with in the twilight years, versus the prime of life. and time gone by.

he looked upon the silver face, hawkish eyes still sharp despite age. what are you thinking of, bachcha? he asked.