The pond existed in a pocket of the world that the feast had forgotten, a place where time itself seemed to move more slowly, measured only by the soft spill of spring water and the silent turning of the moon above the leaves.
Sol stood at the edge of that silence, and for a moment even the weight of the day seemed to loosen its hold.
He had discovered this hidden place while he was looking for animals to hunt, but even then he never saw any one ever come here.
Looking at the beautiful and heavenly scene in front of him, Sol exhaled a long breath, feeling the last traces of social exhaustion melt away.
He stripped off his clean linen tunic and shoes, leaving them folded neatly beside a flat boulder, and stepped into the water.
A pleasant chill wrapped around his calves and thighs before he submerged himself to his shoulders, resting his back against the smooth, submerged edge.
He sat down and leaned his head back against the edge, closing his eyes.
