I'm tugging at my hair
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm tryna keep my cool
I know it shows
The little woman wasn't sure what to think yet.
His words to some may have been heartening, but Caelum struggled with her gifts. Struggled with her blessed magic that she associated with her parents. She was proud of her own gifts of healing, of providing life to others and the earth (she had slightly fibbed about what she could grow). With her own active Magic, her abilities could see her growing any number of priceless flowers and vegetation that she could celebrate the growth of.
The flowers that bloomed in her footsteps were something else.
This was her mother's gift. This was what made her mother a royal. This was the reminder that she was the only one left. Besides her brother, but her brother wasn't heir. Her brother wasn't meant to sit on the thrown. She was. These were her gifts to bare. And her own selflessness to not force Regal to fit into that mold, to ensure he could live his life his way, it kept her from ever shaking the weight of her position from her shoulders.
She may hide who she was, but she didn't deny it in her heart.
She was the Light of Summer, the Beloved Flower of Primulan City. The People's Princess, their chosen Queen. And when she was finally accepting of the role, she would submit herself to Summer and become the embodiment of the season. She just couldn't hold her father's title yet. So while this stallion spoke of the flowers being beautiful, should be celebrated, a breath of warmth, her response was to merely laugh.
Chocolate eyes turned towards the shadow man.
"Do not be so judgemental to this season. It is part of the cycle of life. Winter is cold with its snow, but as it comes to a close you'll find it not so dire. Spring will left her weary head, and Winter's snows melt and provide all sorts of water to regrow the earth. Plants that did not survive the cold will nourish the ones that come later. With out Winter, there is no rebirth I'm Spring."
She shifts at the idea of the land being blessed by her.
Such words felt sour to her, so instead she eyes him, "Forgive my bluntness, sir; but you hardly know me well enough to make such assumptions." Even with this denial, her words are delivered gentle enough to not be insulting. But she also had no desire to be wooed by a strangers words, then she spoke of her magic.
She wasn't sure what to think of look in his eyes when she said such.
His words had respect and awe, and she shrugged simply, "It is not so rare here. I know many healers of all branches of the medicinal arts." She responds, once more chucking off his words that others may have blustered up for. She didn't need a stranger stroking her ego.
He introduces himself as a warrior.
She can't help but immediately note this differences between this stallion and the soldier of Denocte she was beginning to get to know well. This being was far more open than Boleyn, who obscured even his own thoughts. But Boleyn also held no filter, would push and prod at her buttons until she was retorting back. She could still remember the surprise she felt when. He'd brush his muzzle against her side, before announcing her chosen garment that day as 'cute' as if that had been the reason for his electric touch.
Boleyn was a fun enigma, Jarek was unknown.
She also had no words to offer at the tale of where he came from, his words and story. Paetially due to the odd, and uncomfortable similarities of her own. "I am sorry for your loss," She offers quietly, but simply. Unable to offer anything else, unwilling to acknowledge her own lost kingdom - only Seb knew in a round about way. Luvena and Coy knew the stories . . . And her cousin mourned with her. She wouldn't tell a stranger of her own heartbreak tale.
He listened to her words and considered their meaning. She spoke of the purpose of winter. He had known his homeland existed without this cycle. It was however barren and unwelcoming. Perhaps it was that without this suffering season, it was that life was stifled. His mind mulled on it briefly, the thoughts interrupted by listening further to what the mare had to say.
“You are right that I do not know you well. Perhaps you are a demon in disguise.” he said with a soft chuckle, his icey blue eyes glittering with a mischievous glimmer. He shifted his weight slightly between his hefty hooves. He was unused to others not taking his words at face value. It was almost refreshing to speak to a creature that challenged him at each and every turn.
The loss of his dam was really the only creature he mourned. His resentment towards his father had only built the longer the younger stallion had followed in footsteps. “My mother was truly the purest being, we were blessed to have her, she was cursed to fall in with my father.” he spoke softly now, his eyes glazed slightly with his own haunting memories. What would have changed simply by having his mother at his side? There was no use contemplating it, it would never be true. All he could do was attempt to live life to be his best self. “I’m sorry to ramble, this is a depressing topic.” he added with a sigh.
“My gods are silent. I can only hope their fire reawakens within me.”He shivered within the cave system, feeling oddly exposed. He hadn’t exactly meant to tell so much of himself to the stranger, but she felt easy to speak to. It was as though when she debated his claims he felt the need to explain further, to let her see why his perception may be painted that way.
ooc: Sorry this is abit short and for making you wait so long <3
I'm tugging at my hair
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm tryna keep my cool
I know it shows
The summer maiden was a cautious being.
She played her hand close to her chest, watching the others card holders for any ticks while never giving anything of herself away. A system of care and preserverence, saving face before an enemy that belonged to a true court room warfare. Meant to be queen of an entire race of being, the heralded of the eternal summer, her parents had raised her to always present herself with out faults. To never show weakness.
A glimmer of weakness was an opening.
So she was careful to keep her opinions and thoughts sheltered, a pokerface wiping away the usual light and easy to read expression in her eyes. Naturally a very open and expressive individual, the ease she could don the mask never failed to alarm her. She took comfort in the knowledge that her emotions weren't truly gone. Just obscured from outside perception.
She snorts at the idea of being a demon in disguise.
That had been her beloved Trey. She was an avenging angel at times. Capable of gentleness with one hand and angry retribution with the other. Turning to shield a child with one step so the next one delivers the blow to the enemy. She doesn't express these thoughts, merely staring in amusement, the faintest hitch of a smile tugging at one corner of her lips, "Do you so readily believe such an opinion? I? A demon?" She echoes with a snort.
Some may have agreed with him, though.
The sour turn to the conversation was unwelcome to a mare who had lost everything by her own hand. She didn't interrupt, however. She didn't even show her discomfort visibly. She knew sometimes others just needed to speak to clear their mind properly. She'd taken to talking things through herself. She could relate to the struggles of losing loved ones, and ad she saw him slides into his thoughts, She sighed, "Living in the past does nothing but make you question your own worth and drown you in the unpleasant memories, until the good ones may be forgotten. While it is tragic to say goodbye to loved ones, they rarely wish for us to punish ourselves for their untimely end." Shw tilts her head, consider what to say next. "My people have our own burial rights. We burn our dead, so their spirits may go live amongst the stars. When I feel despairing, I will look to the stars to remind myself they're not truly gone. They always are with me."
The mare was silent at the mention of Gods.
She knew Novus had many, other lands likely would too, but the concept was still odd, "My people do not follow Gods, so I cannot understand your plight. We follow the Spirit of Summer, our royals taking in the essence of the season. But it is as close as we come to deities, and we do not worship these season. The idea of gods is still unfamiliar to me." She knew first hand, even the royal tie to summer felt nothing like what monks felt for gods.
Speaking with Caelum was slowly making him feel unsettled. He was unused to feeling like he had to speak of his struggles. He wasn’t entirely sure what about the interaction made it stir that within him. It was likely something about the mysticalness of the mare and that her well thought out responses sparked his intellect. She had given him many things to think about. It would likely still be some time before he was ready to face and process some of these struggles. He had not thought that introspection is what he would find at the end of the path of flowers. He smiled softly at her at her snort, “ I don’t believe you are a demon. But sometimes my feelings and visions defy me”. He said in a soft gravely tone.
Feelings of grief welled within him when she spoke of the stars above being where the spirits of the dead lingered. “Fire is cleansing and divine; this is a practice we also share” he added simply with agreement. He could still remember how brilliantly his mothers pyre had burnt. The stars were magnificent and he often found himself gazing at them, wondering what the world beneath them would have become if he hadn’t lost his mother. Was she perhaps there watching over him? How would she feel about the stallion he had become? The thought left him feeling sorely inadequate. He felt so overwhelmed with emotion that he felt like he shriveled before her, needing to turn himself away.
“My god whispered to me in the flickering fire driving me to these lands.” his eyes becoming slightly distant as he remembered what that keen intuition had felt like. There had to be something more to this place. He hoped that more would be revealed to him once the snow thawed. Perhaps it was this awful weather that kept the warmer gods from being able to communicate with him.
He shook his head gently, as though he was chasing away unwelcome thoughts. “Thank you for your kindness and understanding Caelum; you have given me much to contemplate.” With telekinesis he plucked one of the flowers from the trail that had followed her, and twirled it before his eyes. The beauty of the plants was still something miraculous to him.
I'm tugging at my hair
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm tryna keep my cool
I know it shows
If the fae was to be honest, this interaction had been odd.
More than just odd, there had been an air of discomfort that she was trying her best to obscure. This odd stallion had turned so vocal on his past was a point of confusion to a mare who felt it was none of her business, and more importantly couldn't understand why he'd reacted in such a way to her. To be fair, the majority of this interaction had left her feeling like she was unstable ground, completely perplexed in regards to what was happening!
As he commented on not believing she was a demon, she blinked slightly.
She still wasn't certain where such an assumption would have come from. And if she was being honest, the idea seemed so far-fetched, she wasn't sure how earnestly she should take his words. "I am relieved you have come to this conclusion." She replies, rather than voicing her confusion on the manner of speaking. But she sees his struggle when she tries to offer some reassurances to his suffrage of his past.
The grief he wears leaves her uncertain.
But at least he acknowledges the practice as one his people had followed as well. She doesn't verbally respond, however, instead merely nodding her acceptance to his words, once more wondering uncertainly where this entire meeting was going. Caelum had met many sorts in her time on Novus, but none as utterly perplexing as this man! When he spoke of Gods however, her muzzle snapped shut, not having words to say on this matter, not having the belief to offer. The very idea of some sort of deity leading another's life just seemed wrong. Your life was your own, was it not? So instead she nodded when he thanked her for her kindness, before blinking it surprise when one of the plants were picked, and twirled, and she shifts a step to the side.
"I am not so certain I have done anything to warrant your gratitude."
She sighs quietly, "Your contemplation were led by your own thoughts. Perhaps you just needed a reason for your mind to guide you in that direction. However, I best be taking my leave before it gets to late. I would rather make it back to Denocte before nightfall can settle. Have a good evening, Jarek." The fae stated with a bow of her head, skirting around him and beginning to make her way from the cave system, her glowing necklace providing enough light for her to follow the trail of flowers she'd left behind.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Jarek Notes: Okay I believe we can count this as closed then.
I'm staring at my feet
My cheeks are turning red
I'm searching for the words inside my head
