It was a balmy summer morning, so early that the sun had barely risen. The sky was milky and pale, an among the dry grasses of the prairie stood a lone figure painted in shadows and night. She was still, watching the shrinking indigo over the far horizon with the distant sound of the sea as it crashed against the shore. The girl had always been a night owl, a sentinel from her place in the sky. Old habits, it seemed, were hard to break as she had been up most of the night, thinking. Wondering.
Was there nothing she could do for these people, some of which she had become fond of after meeting them? Jezanna had never felt this listlessness, this helplessness, before. She had always been so sure of her place, her ability to provide and to aid. Here, she felt like she had none of that. So much time had passed and the young moon was still only sure of one thing: she did not know how she fit in. Even after speaking up, attempting to bring reason to the minds of all those involved in the meeting that had passed, nothing had changed. Did she have a voice?
Unbidden, a sigh escaped her. She half turned away from where the moon was setting, toward the mountains. There was no evidence left of the dragon breath that had set the pass afire and turned the surrounding area to nothing more than dust. If there was one thing she knew, however, it was that things... people, usually grew back stronger after tragedy. Perhaps the same would be said of those in this court who had been so afflicted as to cut off themselves and their people from the rest of the world.
She could only hope so, for themselves, for all their sakes.
It was, he supposed either incredibly fortunate or marvelously unfortunate that he had wandered into the Night Court the very same day as the gates were shut.
On one side of the coin, it was an awful inconvenience to be unable to wander as he pleased, to be trapped in one area of big world—it didn’t matter how big the Night Court may be. In his eyes, it was still nothing compared to what awaited him beyond those raven-gilded gates.
But on the other side… there was a reason to the gates closing. A reason he couldn’t help but be dangerously curious about. Was this typical of the Court of Stars? Or was the world simply changing around him before he had even a chance to know what it was like before? And in that case… why?
Since finding that letter, he’d seen very few other people wandering about—and even those had been at a distance. It was time for the wolf to come out of his den, to begin his hunt for information.
The stars were beginning to fade overhead as he waded through the prairie grasses, giving way to a soft light beginning on the eastern horizon. And with that light came a figure: a statue that lived and breathed, head risen and arched towards the mountains, where frozen fire had burned only hours before.
His ears pricked forward in interest, head lifting a few degrees higher into the air. Could this be his first informant, perhaps?
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he called out from a distance, his voice pouring out with mild concern as he made his way closer. “But I don’t suppose you have any more of an idea as to what’s going on than I do?”
the motherland don't love you,
the fatherland don’t love you.
so why love anything?
the faithless; they don't love you
the zealous hearts don’t love you.
and that's not gonna change.
Jezanna was pulled from her thoughts and wonderings by the voice of another, calling out to her over the gentle rise and fall of the prairie. Her head turned toward him, the sharp cut of her mane swinging with the momentum. Silver eyes rested on the unfamiliar face and green eyes of the man who came toward her. Although she attempted to place him, she could not. If he’d been at the recent meeting she couldn’t recall seeing him there, but she only knew a select few of those who called Denocte home.
“Hello,” she said, ears catching the notes of worry in his voice. The young moon thought she knew why, and her suspicions were only confirmed when he asked her if she had any more idea of what was happening than he. “I suppose that depends on how much you know, sir,” Jezanna responded with a fleeting, cheeky smile before her expression sobered, once more looking out toward the Arma Mountains. She did not actually know where the gates stood, but wherever it was, they stood closed.
“I don’t know what happened that made them close the gates, my knowledge doesn’t have that much reach, but I know they believe they are doing the best for their people.” She looked back at the man, “They say we are returning to isolation, to protect ourselves… I do not think I believe it will have the effect they are hoping it will.” The midnight woman stood by what she had said at the meeting, that locking everyone away would do more harm than it would do good. She supposed only time would tell.
“I hope my limited understanding of the situation is not too much of a disappointment,” Jezanna added after a moment, “I could think of a few who might know more than myself.” She thought of those who had spoken out at the meeting. Faces she did not know and could only put a name to once they were spoken aloud, out of anger or warning. Truthfully, she did not know who had remained within Denocte who may have left before the gates were closed for good.
