Falina's touch was very kind, but after a short time he wanted his space back. Rhocanth pulled away, albeit slowly, so as not to look as though he was recoiling, and rested with his spine against the stones, relishing the familiar cold of a texture he knew. His face turned toward his far shoulder, eyes wandering toward the raindrops again. He felt, and perhaps looked, more like a man who had just lost his true love than any disenfranchised former son.
"Once, at the height of my curiosity, I accompanied a few friends of mine through the royal palace," he murmured. His gaze was now thoroughly far away. "We climbed to the upper salons, where there was a balcony. Out on that balcony, we could see the entire city fanning away from us, spreading like threads."
He rose three fingers and put them to the glass. They sank slowly, waving back and forth as if he was trying to draw what he had seen.
"To this day, I still can't think of a way to describe what I saw. It was just it... everything. There were tiny merchants, like toys, pulling carts down the roads, and you wouldn't believe the noise. You can hear some of it all the way up there. The Proving Grounds looked like a big breakfast bowl. Then of course there was Dust Town. It looks like lichen from above, blackened like someone had put out a pipe on it. Smoke from the smiths dotted all over made it all look as though it was breathing."
Pausing a moment, Rhocanth shrugged loosely. "For everything it was, imperfections be damned, it was beautiful. Who could be angry, or ever want to leave, after seeing that? The idea of never seeing that sight again, or any of the people in it... If I can't go home, at least I have found a way to serve her from afar. But I still wonder if it's better to forget someone that doesn't want you. To be clean and alone."