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the lost boy (alcuin) wrote in 4bidden,

Alcuin blinked back the vision as if suddenly awakening from a dream without any awareness of how he came to be there, and slowly the lens from which some part of him peered out of began to withdraw. He could once again distinguish the warm glow of the stable lights in his periphery, the yellow of the sand at his feet, and the paleness of the ancient's lips as they formed words. “How very sad for you,” he whispered. From anyone else the statement might well have sounded heartlessly snide; there were plenty enough people in the world who hadn't the slightest clue what it was like to lose everything and everyone around them, after all. Alcuin was, however unfortunately, not one of them. “My master sold my companion to another,” he offered quietly. “I did not want him to go.”

Their words – spoken and unspoken – seemed to hang in the gloom of the training yard. Alcuin hung his head as the horses did when they wished to be left alone, hiding behind the curtain of his hair from their collective grief. Although the ancient never did strike him as the tactful sort, he couldn't say that he wasn't grateful for the change in subject. Even if the answer was the last thing on earth the ancient would've liked to have heard in that moment. “I came to return the clothing you had delivered some time ago,” Alcuin carefully avoided eye contact in favor of the spearhead. “Master – objected to his nudity, as you might recall.”