a meeting, of sorts

[aslandish]

[ Fall approaches, the summer days drawing to a close as the leaves begin to change. A warm breeze ruffles the branches, sending a brief cascade of color raining to the ground. Every so often, one of them touches the lake, clear waters nestled in a quiet clearing. As the ripples spread, there is a moment where the air itself appears to shiftA

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[xdaddy]

[ Magneto doesn't belong here, that much is obvious -- but there is something that swept him into a world that seemed bereft of much else, where woodlands take the place of steel and iron and concrete, where lakes with scattered flowers and leaves fill the space of industries and smog.

Something inexplicable, ineffable, and he is here, at the very edge of the lake, the gritty sea breeze of the beach still on his tongue, however faint now, and he regards the stillness of the water's edge with serene distrust. ]

Come out.

[aslandish]

[ The wind quiets, the silence itself suspended, as tangible as the air itself. The atmosphere shifts, then, a warmth to it that wasn't there before.

A great lion stands at the edge of the lake, his mane of shining gold with eyes as ancient as the sea. Present where moments ago he was not, he looks upon the other, a visitor in a land of kings. There are no questions in that face, no uncertainty over the stranger's appearance, but rather a sureness in that posture and gaze that speaks of knowledge and unfathomable mystery.

Will you speak with him? ]

[xdaddy]

[ Erik knows him, he finds. Discovers that right down to his bones he knows him, distinct and impenetrable, the way one moves towards the sun, the way one instinctively reaches out for warmth. But there is another feeling, a slow, slow burn of question that surprises even him because the lion had not spoken.

It is a majestic, beautiful creature. It is more than that, and Erik removes his helmet because it feels right. Tucks it under his arm and regards this embodiment of a feeling that had left him cold, so many years ago. ]

...I know you.

[aslandish]

[ He is sunlight in the midst of winter, the thaw before the spring, and though he has many names, many faces by which he has been known, the essence of he himself has ever been the same.

It is well that the other knows him. Aslan knows him, too.

Knows him well. ]

You are far from home, Erik Lehnsherr.

[ A voice with depth and gravity, untamed and wild as the beast he shows himself to be. It is not without warmth. ]

What is it that you are seeking?