wearing thin the heart beneath, there's no place to call our own
The night was settling in quickly, the last vestiges of sunlight fading away on the horizon and dragging with it the bright and fiery colors of the sunset. In its place settled the inky swath of sky speckled with stars, twinkling against the black. Although spring was in the air, new growth all around in the trees and the grass and the soft budding flowers, there was still a distinct chill to this night. A silhouetted shape moved gracefully toward the lake, which reflected the sky so perfectly it was almost mesmerizing. Her steps were unsure, as though she wasn’t quite sure where she was heading, not quite sure of the shape of the ground beneath her hooves. It was, in truth, as unfamiliar to her as the sky she walked under and the air she breathed into her lungs.
There was something unsettling about the silence that enveloped the young female as she stopped at the edge of the great expanse of water, staring at the still likeness of the moon. She realized she was unsettled because this silence was not the lull she was used to hearing in her own world. Jezanna, daughter of the moon and the sun—beloved second moon—could not help but wonder who it is that controls the celestial body here on this earth. A sigh escaped her, clouded breath hanging in the air before her, and she realized that she was lost. So horribly lost. These stars were not her stars, and these creatures were not her creatures. This was not where she belonged, and she longed to see her mother and father again.
But she had been brought to this place, ripped from her home through time and space and thrust into a land that stripped her of her divinity and left her feeling raw and open. Jezanna was awake because she was so used to being awake through the night; a gentle, watchful sentinel in the heavens, but this mortal body was not accustomed to such expenditures of energy, and her bones ached from this trip she had made. In the beginning her goal had been just to get away, and although she wasn’t sure how far she had gotten she could feel the time and the effort wearing on her. Perhaps she should sleep, but Jezanna did not feel more at peace with this world than standing under the light of the stars and the moon.
What was she to do, she wondered. It bothered her to think so, but the female thought she would need to return to Eidolon at some point or risk him coming after her. What a sight that would be, Jezanna thought with a smirk. If she got lucky, perhaps she could learn the ins and outs of this world quickly and actually get away from him. For now however, he was all she had. The only slightly familiar thing in a world of strangers and strange things, she supposed she would have to make due. Jezanna was not about to put up with any single step out of line nonetheless. This whole situation was, after all, his fault entirely. May the gods and goddesses of this world help him if he tried any funny business
The sunset was not one of subtly, for Vespera burned the skies in the last hues of gold and blistering red; such a stark difference to the dreaminess of her lover's twilight. Instead, it would seem that the dusk goddess was screaming loudly against the coming night, angered by her sister's shadows that grew. As always, though, Calligo's night won the futile battle. Her stars began to yawn in opalescent glimmers — beautiful and without abandon in a sea of indigo and darkness. It was under these stars that the night goddess' stormsinger wandered.
In the gathering dark, she traveled on light hooves through a thick of trees. Beneath the cover of nightfall, she was no longer a beacon of shadow, but a comet of stardust. Silver clings to the ivory of her mane, and dusts her skin into a breathing star map. She has welcomed the blessing of the night sky now, for Calligo's magic has been awoken in her blood. Her stardust is but a calm that mirrors her dreams, her wishes, her innocence. Where on the other side of her coin, Calligo has all but unleashed the hurricane that has forever hid in the constraints of midnight skin.
On this night, she finds solace beneath the cover of trees. There is a gentleness to the night's fingers that caress her as she moves, for she is a wraith born from those shadows and stars and woven from their chaos. As she walks, she strips herself of her titles. Tonight, she is no longer her king's champion, or her tribe's Maiden. She is her mother's dreamer. A singer of storms who still wishes upon the stars that shine above her.
This thought brings a warm comfort; a light of gold that envelopes her heart. The forest opens up to her, beaconing her into their depths, their mysteries. But it is a wide birth the clearing draws to accompany the lake that spans into the horizon. A smile becomes a familiar weight on her lips as she enters from beneath the covering of trees. The lake is an obsidian pool, depthless and beautiful as it mirrors the clear skies above. Oh, and how she remembers. For her last meeting here, she had been wild and free in the heat of summer nights.
Fireflies do not flicker on this evening where winter's chill still holds desperately to the earth. Instead, azure orbs blaze and catch a figure not far from her. A stranger perhaps, but then again, there were no strangers to the Rahilah woman. All of Denocte's children were her kin, and all of their souls were protected by the might of her will.
So she steps forward, bravely and unbound by her duties to Court. She is only a woman, with the heart of a child who still looks skywards with hope.
"They say our night skies are the most spectacular in all of the realms," she remarks, her gaze blinking upwards to Calligo's stars. A chuckle rumbles deep in her throat, surprisingly carefree despite the troubles that threaten her. "But yet, I do believe most might be too afraid of the dark to look up once in a while."
She comes to stop near the figure in the dark, but does not yet turn to face her.
wearing thin the heart beneath, there's no place to call our own
The steps of an approaching figure reached Jezanna’s ears through the quiet. She did not turn, fearing that when she did it would be Eidolon there walking toward her. She did not want to see him then, did not want his presence to ruin what peace she had on that night. Instead, she kept looking up at the sky from where she stood, waiting in anticipation though she didn’t know what she’d do if it was he who appeared on the edges of her vision. Instead, it was a woman with the marks of constellations on her neck and the young moon released a relieved breath. The other female’s words sat like a rock in her stomach, making her feel ill. Although she disagreed—having particular bias for the sky which she had grown in, had once graced with her own gentle light—Jezanna fear speaking that truth not knowing what the reaction would be. So much was unfamiliar in this world, how did they take to such outsiders?
“They offer me some measure of comfort,” she spoke after a moment, voice drifting softly on the still air. This much was true, a sentiment that she felt she could share without giving herself away. At the woman’s second remark Jezanna’s lips curled in a smile, “I have never had need to fear the night; I have always been one with it.” She glanced in the stranger’s direction, silver eyes inquisitive, wondering. Who was she? Where had she come from? But perhaps, most importantly, she wondered whether this other female would be able to shed light on this world she had ended up in. Could they, perhaps, find some camaraderie? Jezanna could only hope.
It was a strange feeling, this need of introductions, need to get to know. She had always been known from her birth. All had known her name and loved her, and yet in this place she was just an insignificant life, another face among the masses whom would easily be missed. That truth was an yawning wide black hole in her soul, an ache in her chest which she could feel settle in for the long run. Her gaze faltered, falling to the surface of the lake which was, as it had been since she first came up on it, motionless. What did it mean, to be forgettable? Was her family, her world, forgetting her even now as she stood and conversed with this stranger?
“Some may see the night as making the shadows in their life vast and more encompassing,” she murmured, watching her reflection as its mouth moved, wordless. “I have always found the moon’s light tender and reassuring.” The words were true, and though she spoke them of her mother’s own gentle and soft glow, she was still soothed by this night. Her lungs drew in breath slowly, once more gathering the courage to look at the woman beside her, who carried herself with such sureness that she felt small in comparison. It was strange to think how easily she could be stripped of her own courage.
“What are you called?” she asked at last, sure that this would lead them down a path she could not return from, a path where her origins would have to be uncovered. Yet she longed for friendship, longed to know another. “I am Jezanna.”
Heavy footfalls carry me around the edge of the lake. Damaris trails behind, minding her own business by occassionally chasing after things that I can't even detect. If you asked me, I wouldn't have told you that the lake was my favorite place. In my mind it holds no more importance than any other location in Novus. That being said, I feel like this is one place that I'm drawn to the most. The night is young, but still shadows my form in the dark. Only the stars and moon illuminate me and my reflection in the lake.
I'm not alone, though. Two forms are ahead in the distance. I stay quiet, ambling toward them. The closer I get, the more the moon reveals them to me. One is familiar - Aislinn. It seems like it has been ages since I've seen her. I huff at her in greeting before turning my gaze on the stranger. A deep steel blue with pale mane, tail, and markings. She looks like she belongs in the world of Night. It's clear they've already begun a conversation and that I'm interrupting, but all my ears have been able to catch is "I am Jezanna."
Damaris stays behind me, still entertaining herself. Perhaps she does not wish to frighten this Jezanna, or maybe she just doesn't give a shit. (Not that I would blame her.) I tip my head in polite greeting to the stranger before speaking. "Sorry for interrupting. I'm always curious to meet the strange faces that come through." A smile quirks on my face and I stop my ambling a few yards away from the pair.
The moon slowly rises, and with it, as always, the stormsinger’s heart begins to swell. High above them, Calligo paints their heavens in glimmers of silver like pearls in a stormy sea. Their constellations burn and flicker and shine brightest amidst the shadows that grow; the same shadows that dance across the mirror of the lake at her feet. But it is those stars that catch her eyes, those pools of blue flames that gaze at their brilliance. For in the gathering dark, her goddess has blessed her with stardust — the silver gauze has all but fallen from the skies above. Silver clings to her, dusting her in shimmer.
And besides this woman, her statement had never been more true. For truly there was nothing more beautiful than her kingdom’s stars above.
I have never had need to fear the night; I have always been one with it.
She does not linger on the questions that flash across her like comets; but instead, Aislinn can only smile. Although she has yet to meet the woman beside her, to know her story, the gypsy woman has already found a measure of familiarity in her. They are alike, and she cannot deny it. The stormsinger has been gifted with the night goddess’ blessings; crafted and sewn from her shadows and smoke and storms. And as her gaze blinks sidelong to the stranger at her side, her orbs torn from the stars, Aislinn can see that she that they have been made of the same cloth. The steel blue of her frame is the wash of night fall and the moon’s precious glow.
Their inky darkness is a near match, it would seem.
A soft breeze shakes free the wilds of her mane, like liquid starlight playing with invisible fingers that tangle in the wind. The coins wrapped around her throat jingle, tinkling in their song. Her lip curls, as her lashes fall upon her cheeks, blue orbs lazily watching the lake’s waters drink in the moonlight that dances across the waves. ”There are not many who would find the night so welcoming,” she adds, ”but the moon does show the true beauty of the dark.”
I am Jezanna.
Her own name toys with her lips, unspoken, a whisper not nearly breathed to wholeness, as her ears flicker to her back. Footfalls, familiar footfalls, catch and chime on this night. They are the same that she had heard on the battlefield, the same on the stones of their capital city. The stormsinger only turns the crown of her head, gaze flaring to welcome Rostislav in their gathering under the stars. ”Rostislav, welcome, my friend,” she grins, shifting and tucking her wings close to her frame. It would seem Calligo is finding all of her children tonight.
She does not immediately find Damaris, however, she can only imagine she is close by. Where one was, the other would follow. For now, Aislinn turns towards the ethereal woman — Jezanna — once more. The stardust that clings to her is a breathing star map upon her skin, shifting and twinkling with the heavens above them. For once, she was all grace and finery, where instead she was havoc and chaos and hurricanes born from song on her lips.
Not this night, however. Tonight, she was simple. A dreamer, that is all.
”I am Aislinn,” she offers. ”Welcome to the Kingdom of Stars and Smoke.”
wearing thin the heart beneath, there's no place to call our own
Just as she had finished speaking her name, another approached. Jezanna’s silver gaze moved quickly over the newcomer, a heavy and dark chestnut with a mane consisting of shocking white layered over black. His eyes were not so unlike her own, metallic and bright. The young moon looks past him and sees a dark, canine-like shape in the shadows. Truthfully, her gaze is drawn to the bright green of its eyes and marking its coat. It is the first non-equine creature she has seen since arriving here, other than the typical small critters such as birds, squirrels and the like. How curious, she thought, as none seemed to fear it. It must be familiar.
As he speaks, Jezanna looks back to the man, noticing that the winged mare also looks to him. She speaks his name: Rostislav. She files it away for later, shifting her weight so as to better have them both within her line of sight without craning her neck. From the way that the stardusted female calls him friend, Jezanna assumes they must get on well and there is an ache in her chest at the familiarity. Her wish for such simple things as friendship is a heavy stone in her heart, but she blinks away the longing no doubt present in her gaze as, at last, she learns the other woman’s name.
“I thank you, Aislinn,” she speaks after a moment. Her midnight mane swings as she turns her head, looking over the mirror lake once more, “though I do believe it will take some time to get used to your kingdom.” It is an honest fact, but as earlier she is careful not to reveal too much. So far they had been welcoming and still a small part of her feared that she would be cast away for her truth. Yet another piece, perhaps a larger one, told her that if anyone would not resent her presence it would be the one who spoke so fondly of the night sky as she herself did. Jezanna breathed, filling her lungs with the cool night air, and glances at the stallion.
“You do not interrupt at all. In truth, I am glad for the company,” a smile touches her lips, sincere. If it had not been made clear by now that she was a newcomer to at least this particular land, if not this world as a whole, well she was sure they knew it. At least, the twilight woman thought, she could find out more about it while she had the chance. She hoped they would be willing to share as they did not seem bothered by her presence as an outsider, such that she was. “What can you tell me about this kingdom of stars and smoke?”
Both women are beautiful, and the smiles that they offer to each other, to me, makes them even more so. Aislinn is radiant as always. Though I've never said anything of the sort to her, I've always found her beautiful. The way her appearance fits against the night sky just speaks to some sort of attunement with Caligo. Jezanna, though not blessed with stars across her body, is also a delight to look at. So though there's an active conversation taking place, I remain rather quiet, instead admiring the two women illuminated by the moonlight.
Before Aislinn can reply with a well-formed, eloquent answer, I throw in my own two cents. "Our land is beautiful - with the mountains, the lake, the prairie... our Court that is home to many of us. The biggest thing you should know about the Night Court -- for it is the Night Court that resides here in Denocte -- is that we are all a big family. We are free thinking, but place great stock in loyalty and unity."
Oh boi. Look who had more to say than he thought. My mouth clamps such, but a smile quickly slides into place to hide my surprise at the little burst of info. Let Aislinn do the big talking....
I'm so sorry this took like.. a month and a half. :| Tag: @Jezanna @Aislinn Rosti thoughts | "Rosti speech" | Damaris mindspeak
