You are the night-time fear
Aamu slips into the Temple after dark, his padding footsteps echoing softly in the vast stone building. It's not that he hasn't wanted to come back, it's just—there's been other things, and for someone with no need to sleep in the darkest season, he's found himself oddly busy.He's liked it that way, though. Less time for thinking. Less time for remembering.
But with battle preparations soon underway there's one aspect of it Aamu cannot put off any longer: himself. Is he actually functional? Reliable? Only the Voice can truly answer that, but he's not ready yet—nor is he certain not being ready is a luxury he can afford in these times.
He doesn't know why it would be so terrible to hear the truth from her, when he's already pieced most of it together already. It's not like he doesn't know it's been at least three hundred years.
With a sigh he gently pushes open the door to Isla's freshened-up clinic, slipping inside. "Isla?" he calls out, softly, waiting by the entrance. He doesn't want to disturb if she is busy with someone.
You are the morning when it's clear
AAMU
