A journey to the east, bitterness on the tongue like honeydew tainted by a melancholic haze, the crack of paw pads a mimicry of the golden seams along skin; as if he were a geode, bursting with a glisten when stepping into the light, and when faced with darkness he would seemingly glow. Interesting as it was, the concepts which he played, the strength to be gained on that which would be a painful, exhausting travel; the young man would harbor no insult to heart or spirit, would accept that his life was thus, and would even experience unparalleled joy for all that life had to offer him.
Xia Jinhai Solaris would be known as a traveler first by sight then by name, and furthermore known not by the travel, but rather the insight brought to villages and people encountered alike. Brought to lands by tears, those silent or wallowing moan, Xia would stop and rest himself to the ground from powerful wings, where he would let his shoulders become a home for the burdens of all willing; most notably, the deceased would flock to his hues, those few lost souls who wandered the lands, unaware that death had taken hold between her sweet and gentle hands and ushered them to the next plane of existence. He is a guardian of all those lost, and those few too succumbed to their own thought to notice that their existence has wavered from one plain tot he next, and they would be greeted with a gentle smile, akin to how he believes a mother would to her child, and offered suggestion from honeycomb tongue to follow Xia Jinhai Solaris to the land they dared not walk alone.
It was even rumored that every ailment could be cured by simply having a brief interaction with the young traveler, and such rumors would imply he, too, believed this as fact. As time passed, Xia Jinhai would often forget he was not a God, too consumed within his own work, a focus noted in only the most holy of priests and priestesses in devotion to their Gods. Looking to him in such a state, when he believed he came from a shattered stone, would be like looking to the abyssal. It was easy to slip into such a state, for he remembered never having a loving mother who had descended to morality, or a father who matched his wife step by step, nor the siblings to come from the pure simplicity of loving.
-------He had been feeling particularly needy, and a bit ashamed that, no matter what he did, Xia Jinhai could not shake away the feeling. Perhaps it was born out of how long he had spent away from a village, none in particular, and the good people he enjoyed helping, those people being the kind that he deeply enjoyed being around. They helped him come to terms with who he was, giving him the tools to discover who he could become, and birthed a form of internal peace in what he did not know, a fact that he struggled with for many years.
"My friend, are you here?"
Stepping into the isolated room of his makeshift home, mostly composed of borrowed sheets and multiple pitched tents, he let his eyes wander in search of his newfound companion. It was his company he wished to have, perhaps something a little more if personal space was allowed to be invaded by the saddened. Xia sought anything to sate his aversion to the boredom that had begun to creep into the back of his mind, an itching and inkling doubt that he should do more, deny himself rest, and seek the lost to guide them.
If he were to be brutally honest, Xia wanted nothing more than to wrap himself against the fellow and forget about his life duties. There were still so many question that plagued his mind, many men and women that required his attention, but in the end, Xia had decided, against his own better judgement, that they could wait for his restoration. No doubt that his friend would agree with him but... Perhaps he would disagree, although the man has proven to be nothing than one who valued Xia's realization that he deserved a break.
"
Zenyatta?"
As time passed with the man, Xia had learned seclusion was a brand of meditation that the other would never remove from his pattern, for the young man had told him countless stories of skipping his shores when he was young, although Zenyatta was no older than Xia himself, only twenty and Xia fell short two years. Fewer were the years between them, if his life had not begun until their respected awakening, then it would all be a hovered haze near melancholic dew of long forgotten winter songs and pleasant wind chimes Zenyatta collected. The room itself would bring memories for both parties, burning in their mind a thousand hymns of attention, and the soft glow of his friend would draw his gaze there.
"-- Yes, Xia Jinhai Solaris?"
Zenyatta was wrapped in favored cloth, a stolen piece by sentiment that would be tugged across his body; Zenyatta could feel such smoothness, a running course of happiness like pleasure through the body known simply as comfort. "Hiding from your need to help?" His voice hummed with life, not an inkling of judgement spliced on typical tongue, the other offered a bop of the chin, a gentle guide to have the other sit besides him, stow themselves away in the room Zenyatta had taken as his own.
“Join me, I would enjoy the company. Have you an activity in mind? I would suggest a nap.”
It had been a relief to find Zenyatta there, a smile curling his lips that quivered with an inquiry lost upon the tip of his tongue when offered to sit down. He swallowed the thought and willed his restless soul to steady itself, if only so that he could properly form the words that he wished to speak. Actions felt as though they would do more for him than any verbal language could, however, he knew he should answer with both.
"Ah ... A nap, yes, it seems perfect."
In seconds he crossed the distance between them, and sat just a hair too close to the other, his shoulder brushing against the others as he settled down. Xia had been a tactile man, and the mere hint of contact was a comfort he found himself enjoying; the inquiry as to if he wished to nap lingered as a silence, and the traveler struggled to will his eyes closed. "I-- I wished to be in your company. It has been so long since I've rested, and I've missed your presence. My soul has ached, for there are plaguing questions in my mind, and I crave such an intimacy as a mother that sleep forsakes me, leaves me dancing on the edge."
Ever polite the young man was, he shifted closer, trying to be subtle about inching closer. Eyes fall shut in relief, the young man rests his head against the other. "I have missed you."
