Novus
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All Welcome  - Autumn Thistle

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Saoirse
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SAOIRSE
 
 
 
 
The word’s of the old stallion and his story of these new lands leaves a bitter taste on the boy’s tongue. It reminds him of the gods who had let his homeland dissolve in fumes. Allowed his friends to cease all existence. He shivered as he recalled the white plume of energy consuming those from within who stood their ground against the villain. Flesh torn away from their forms in ethereal elegance. Instead of tears he merely bore his eyes into the crisp, blue skies.
 
“Novus.” The sound that fell from his mouth was foreign. It hit the air with a dull pang, providing him no amount of hope or reprieve. He found it cruel and ironic that the god of Day existed on this plane. And whether it had been nostalgia, and the underlying desperation for something familiar within – he pursued the Day Court like a starved beast. A hound in search of food, hollowed out.
 
Nimble limbs pressed off the ground. Steady, faithful wings pulsed and lifted him further into the air. The world around him fell away. While the winds lilted here and there, cool hands that grazed across his skin. Severing thoughts of a land that no longer existed, or the people lost and forsaken. Instead of being blown to and fro, a leaf trapped on the tides of the wind, he was rewarded by the simple task he set ahead of himself. A rare, blooming warmth that nestled gently beside him. For it was adventure that sparked its bloom, and a pale manifestation of purpose that hurried his flight towards the heart of Solterra.
 
What would he find there? People, the ocean… Its saline scent teased him to pick up his pace. It breathed life inside of tired flesh and sinew, in the travelled muscles that kept him together – chasing memories of childhood. He trembled as they neared the edges of the fortress. Beyond the wind swept dunes, and their inhospitable reaches. Respirations became heavy, sucking in air, as he pressed further until he couldn’t any longer. Defeated, but nowhere conquered by his fatigue – the youth stumbled upon the arid ground with shaky limbs. Sweat clung to his skin, from the steady rays of the sun. And before him in the near distance, he could see the castle in its grand form.
 
Verdant eyes did not reciprocate the curiosity that befell Saiorse then. They hung on a balance, an impartial presence that could not express this impressive find. For he was still the stranger, and perhaps these people would accuse him of trespassing. It made him hesitate, as he neared the building. Stopping himself from continuing any further. He bit his lip as if it to reprimand himself - people didn’t change. People were all the same, all together suspicious and perhaps just as guarded as he. Strangers might as well as be pretenders, spies, and intruders.
 
What was he then?
 
The youth breathed in deeply. Shuffling himself so that he could gaze at the ocean while he waited. Either for someone to notice of his presence, or to observe for an opening – an opportunity to pass through and… Hopefully grapple with some sort of bearing as to where exactly he had landed himself.
 
Time would tell soon enough.
 
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Messages In This Thread
Autumn Thistle - by Saoirse - 11-16-2017, 11:13 PM
RE: Autumn Thistle - by Rhoswen - 11-17-2017, 11:31 AM
RE: Autumn Thistle - by Saoirse - 11-18-2017, 04:00 AM
RE: Autumn Thistle - by Rhoswen - 11-28-2017, 08:01 AM
RE: Autumn Thistle - by Saoirse - 01-12-2018, 03:11 AM
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