home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
The day had been a cool one full of colors. The leaves littered the ground near what few trees crowded around each other in the grassy plain of terrastella. Mostly there are grasses that are fading from their lush, vibrant emeralds and blues to the duskier oranges and yellows as they feel winters chill in their leaves. Some are thick of branch and small of leaf and those are the ones that will last through the winter. More like hedges than trees or maybe even considered weeds for their sheer abundance they scatter this part of the landscape to provide some escape from the winds that drive across the land from the sea. It is a time of change and whenever there is change there is a time for contemplation and collecting of thoughts.
At least for Weir, it is. She thinks of how she first arrived and then the decision of the sovereigns. Next came the crowds and the picking of those who hold positions of power. One day she was chosen for the champion of community and has since struggled with how best to go forward with this role. She has been her friendly self to newcomers and once followed Rannveig to the day court in hopes to be of assistance in making sure the concerns of the community were measured. But what is it that the people want? Most conversations Weir have had are those with her love Rostislav and some conversations with Reichenbach. Weir has also spoken with some members of the Dusk Court but their real thoughts never came up in their introductions. Weir decided she would like to hear what the people would like to say and then perhaps the new soverign Florentine will join them or be nearby to hear their words and if not, Weir will be there to pass them along.
She calls out across the fields and under the new stars of the setting sun. Her tone is angelic and welcoming like a songbird. Citizens of the Dusk court I welcome you to join me and speak with me. Let me hear your words about what you think about the Dusk Court and what things you would like to see happen here in your home. Her eyes are their usual soft and kind pink that shows love to all who they lay on. Her smile is a defined line across her ivory lips. She begins to start a fire where everyone can stay warm by choosing a spot of barren dirt and taken fallen limbs to the center. She collects some dried grass to start the long and lights them with a flint stone she has collected from the stone mountains. With a few strikes, a spark begins to light. She breaths gently on the fledgling light until it begins to catch the logs on fire with a few small crackles and pops.
@Florentine @Asterion @Morpho
Welcome to anyone and everyone that wants to talk about what they like, don't like, want to see happen, etc. or just come and hang out and meet the newer members!!
Lately he has stuck near to the borders of the Dusk Court. The late autumn sea still calls to him, but its voice is quieted the longer he goes without his water-magic; it is only a murmur, now, with no stirring beneath his skin.
He would miss it, but he is too full with too many new things – sisters and loves and castles and strangers. This last, at least, he intends to work on. That is what has him answering the antlered mare’s call, picking his solitary way across the autumn fields until he reaches her just as she’s setting flint to tinder.
Until the festival in the Dawn Court, with its great bonfires and sweet-scented smoke, Asterion had only seen one fire.
It had been god-made, ravenous, raging, the most deadly thing he’d faced. And his golden twin had run straight for the heart of it, determined to dry out the saltwater in her veins and turn to kindling and ash. She had been unsuccessful, through his efforts and the help of others –
But she had never spoken to him again. Perhaps it was for the best; the last thing she’d said was that she would kill him, if he ever tried to save her.
He’d thought the memories were gone, smoothed over by the rift like rain streaked on glass. But they come rising up like cinders on the wind as he watches the pale mare light the fire, watches the flames lick and dance and eat up the wood.
When he shivers, it has nothing to do with the cold, and the flames are reflected in his large dark eyes.
But he wants nothing more than to try to belong, here, and so although he stands far back from the crackle and thin smoke of the fledgling fire, he offers a smile to Weir. “What are the winters here like?” he asks, voicing the first of the questions that rises to his tongue. “Is there anything I can do to help prepare?”
@Weir @Morpho @Kiirha and anyone else!
11-03-2017, 02:59 PM
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Obsidian [PM] Posts: 380 — Threads: 45 Signos: 25
It was the fire that first caught Florentine’s attention. It was a torch within the heart of the fields. Its light flickered and danced to the very edges of the meadow, keeping darkness at bay.
It framed two silhouettes that moved against its backdrop of dancing flame. With winter nipping at her skin, the cold boring through her golden coat and deep, deep into her bones, Florentine yearned for the heat of their fire.
The grasses are brittle against her limbs as she wades through their rustling sea. They are autumn weary, browning beneath the lowering sun and cold, cold nights. This is the coldest yet, and Flora wonders what plants will still be alive when the morning dawns. Frost’s early touch was killer and its biting teeth so savage.
The figures, once generic horse silhouettes, refine themselves with every step the girl takes towards them. They grow apart, each of their intricacies and lines becoming different – unique. Their familiarity pulls a smile across her lips.
It is her brother Flora greets first with a nudge against his shivering shoulder. “Bitterly cold, I fear.” Florentine answers his question with faux displeasure playing across her tongue. “I was born in perpetual winter – twice. Daddy nearly gave me frostbite once. I healed but I was hardy then. Novus’ spring and summer months have spoiled me since and I am no longer sure I possess the hardiness to endure a harsh winter.”
Her smile is impish, even as her words hold some small truth. Florentine was no more a Dusk girl than she was a Winter girl. She had born into a land of snow and frigid winds, to a father who wielded ice and mother whose flames turned all to ash. She would be fine; a Novus winter would be nothing to her – yet, it didn’t mean the flower girl was at all keen on winter’s arrival…
“Thank you for hosting this meeting, Weir. I am quite keen to see what suggestions people have. Do you have any yourself you would like to put forward?” The flower girl asks as her eyes trail over the smooth porcelain white of Weir’s slender form.
The butterfly mare had been something of a ghost in the Dusk Court. She knew only Rannveig, Weir, and Florentine here, and had made a point to get out and find additional creatures in her new homeland. It had taken some time for her to be alone, to heal – but now, the gild flecked mare felt comfortable here, understanding her role in the grander scheme, and glad to be in a position where she could learn without feeling the burden of responsibility.
She made her way toward Weir, curious what the Champion of Community had called them together for. Offering a smile to the newly crowned Sovereign and making a point to congratulate the flower girl later, she turned toward the stranger @Asterion and offers a quiet introduction. Good day – I don’t believe we’ve met… I am Morpho, a Sage of the Dusk Court. She bows her head toward him, the motion causing her lantern necklace to bob and dance with light.
For a moment, she considered the thought of being a Sage. She hadn’t done anything with that yet, and needed to learn more about the world they lived in. In truth, she knew very little about Terrestella, their religion, or anything else of the matter. Though she was a creature that was curious about the world, Morpho hadn’t taken the time to really understand her role here yet, a thought which caused her a bit of shame. Clearing her throat, she tried to find one question in the many that swirled in her mind, to ask of Weir.
I suppose that I find myself wanting to find a place here. I am a Sage, but likely unworthy of such a title – for I know nothing to share with others. Is this truly the best place for me, @Florentine? I will serve in whatever capacity you wish… but in the meantime, @Weir, if there is a project or task that needs attention, I would be happy to assist.
