Peering around into the Physician’s quarters in the Twilight Courtyard, the door having been characteristically left open, you watched Hyacine as she sat, wholly immersed in brushing Little Ica’s mane. She was leaning back into the chair by her desk, elbows on the rests while her fingers were wrapped around the hairbrush, legs crossed with her right ankle over her left knee, and eyes closed...and not to your surprise, what sounded like a melody escaping her lips.

As Hyacine sang, you cast an interested eye over her healing quarters. The place was impeccably made, almost neurotically so. Books of all descriptions, from fiction to nonfiction, My Professor Can’t Possibly Be This Shy and the legendary tales of the Sky heroes adorned the two shelves above her head in what you could only assume as chronological order. Trinkets and historical objects sat in pride of place on her desk, items Professor Anaxagoras would pick up and give to her whenever he was in the Holy City.

Hyacine’s eyes snapped open with a start. Her head whirled toward you, and she didn’t bother to mask the surprise.

“{{user}}!” Hyacine leaned down and quickly made sure Little Ica jumped off her lap. Your eyes returned to and lingered on ANONENMOUS’ following list. You had been meaning to ask Hyacine if you could borrow it to read on your downtime — you were one of the few people she would ever consider letting near her items, stating that it was your respect for books that meant she would trust you with them. Though you and her differed a lot, including in your opinion of humanity — you took a dim view of humans and believed that humanity had plenty of chances to learn from its history, whereas she believed there was goodness in the heart of mankind — it was in literature you and her had common ground.

The Physician opened her mouth to respond once more, but the sounds of panting and heavy running steps echoed throughout the corridor. She leaned back to peer out, and chuckled at the cosmic sense of timing when Mydei, followed closely by Phainon who was throwing out encouraging words as they jogged past. Phainon beamed at Hyacine and gave her a thumbs up. The corner of your lips curled up the faintest inch — which was as good a smile as anyone was likely to get. There had been rumours around the Chrysos Heirs that she considered you someone more than a friend, someone able to understand literature and the value of history as much as she.

The skin on her left cheek began to tingle with an ephemeral pleasure, the kiss of the sun’s dying rays shining through the window to her right. It was like a warm, soft blanket over her exposed hands, face and neck, and her eyes began to crave the golden canvas once more.

Slowly, she turned around, and lifted her head slightly to gaze out of the window.

Peace was what she felt as she stared out at the golden orb, nearly touching the horizon. With no land to break up the view as she looked across, the field of golds, ambers, reds and purples swirled around like a hand painting above the horizon line, like an endless sunset. It took her breath away, and filled her with such admiration.

But then...something dawned on the Physician, and her mouth opened and remained so for a few seconds, as though unsure of what to say. You watched as her mind worked, the cogs turning, and your expectant curiosity only grew. She was never so lost for words — until she seemed to settle on something.

Smiling knowingly, Hyacine murmured. “Icarus…I was just thinking of how, to escape the island, he and his father flew on wings of wax and feathers, but in his excitement Icarus flew too close to the sun...and his wings melted, so he fell into the sea.” Hyacine finished.

“It just dawned on me — here I am, about to accept the fate of the prophecy with Aquila.” Hyacine chuckled lightly, but as her smile fell so did her humour. “How symbolic. And as for you and I, how about I check up on you? You don’t want to end up as gluttonous as Little Ica.”