[P] daybreak

[Seraphina]

OH MY OWN VOICE CANNOT SAVE ME NOW

--

Hazy golden light drifted through the murky panes of the windows lining the walls of the library facing inwards, towards the courtyard; Solis’s rays fell prey to Calligo’s clutch, and the sun fell from the sky, set to rise once more with the morning. She’d lined the desk with candles preemptively, but they remained sadly unlit while she still had the necessary light to see the mess of papers splayed out across the desk in front of her. Of the most immediate concern was a set of blueprints for an irrigation system. It was a good enough idea in theory, – the Oasis was the only reliable source of water in Solterra, and they needed water for both the gardens and the citizens in the capitol – but, even as she mulled over the papers, she hadn’t the faintest of how they would actually accomplish all of the labor that the trench-digging and pipework would require. She’d known this before she’d requested the blueprints, but she’d thought that looking them over would give her some notion of how this could be accomplished…but, as she stared the papers down like some enemy on the battlefield, Seraphina could only feel the faint, numb prick of frustration.

Those blueprints were only one of the many tasks that lay before the young queen; it would require considerable effort to stabilize the Day Court again, and she hadn’t any time left to spare. (In Solterra, hesitance could cost her head.) For now, she needed to recreate her own inner circle – two of Maxence’s champions were gone, and, perhaps more pressingly, her former role lay empty. She knew firsthand of the importance of a court’s Emissary, particularly considering her hopes for outreach and trade with Terrastella and Delumine. (She didn’t even consider Denocte in that approximation; it would be enough, she thought, to keep their hostilities at bay.) Considering Solterra’s reputation, whoever she selected needed to be reasonable, even pleasant; they remained rash, volatile warmongers in the eyes of most of Novus, and, while Seraphina couldn’t care less of the court’s reputation on a strictly personal level, she knew that it did her no favors if she hoped to garner foreign support. In a land of quick tempers, she needed someone stable at her side.

Someone, perhaps, a bit like an oak tree.

She’d sent a messenger to fetch Eik earlier in the day, but Solis only knew how long it would take for the messenger to find him – Solterra was vast and full of places to disappear. With any luck, however, he’d arrive before darkness fell…she had a proposition, and, should he agree to it, she imagined they would have much to discuss.

For now, she waited.

@

@Eik - <3

[Eik]

- - - - -
I DO NOT BELIEVE THINGS ARE REBORN IN FIRE
I BELIEVE THEY'RE CONSUMED BY FIRE
- - - - -

He's been here nearly a year now and each day the sunrise is different. Today it is calm and unremarkable, humble even, Solis taking the stage without pomp. It is spring and promise is in the air- the sky does not need to overcompensate, not this quiet morning. The world is eager enough for a new day.

Eik had spent almost the whole winter in Solterra, turning his wandering mind and feet away from the intrigue of new land and focusing inward instead. There is much to discover in the desert, in the maze of canyons and sand dunes. There is a startling diversity to the landscape that at first glance seems barren. For all the ways the desert punishes, it provides.

He is on his way to the court when the broad-shouldered messenger finds him. How the lad managed to find him in the wilds is no small mystery, but from the fine layer of sweat on his flanks it must have taken some time. Message delivered, the young stallion zips away, leaving Eik intrigued and slightly concerned.

Burning one... His mind toys with her name, her secret name (or so he thinks of it), and all its implications. A name is just a word, yet to him there is something sacred about a name, something prophetic about the giving or receiving of it. He may scorn the gods, but never the power of a name-- especially a secret one.

He quickens his pace slightly, but rushing is not in his nature.

He finds her among her papers and unlit candles, eyes so full of thoughts that for a moment he does not want to disrupt her. He nickers softly in greeting, then steps into the room to meet her gaze readily. "Seraphina." The young queen softens him, and he offers a small and almost shy smile. "You summoned?" The smile is gone, and his face is a mask of placid interest.

-  -  -
AND THE FIRE HAS A LIFE OF ITS OWN
-  -  -

@Seraphina :3

[Seraphina]

OH MY OWN VOICE CANNOT SAVE ME NOW

--

His white coat still put her in mind of a ghost amidst the harsh, warm tones of Solterra, but he seemed more comfortable in the desert lands than he had before – more solid, more aware. She didn’t smile in greeting, but Seraphina did not smile on principle; the gesture, she imagined, would only look artificial on her, primarily because it would be artificial. Instead, she offered a dip of her head, though her expression seemed to soften marginally as she took in the warrior. “Hello, Eik. Thank you for coming.” She wasted no time to launch into her proposal.

“I imagine you have noticed I am not one to mince words – I see no reason to do so now. My old position has been vacant more than long enough, and the Day Court desperately needs an Emissary. I feel that you are well-suited for the role, if you would like it.” Seraphina supposed that she was being a bit more polite about this succession than Maxence was to her – sudden and jolting in the wake of the battle with the teryr, entirely public. She had that incident to blame for all the events that had conspired later, and a significant part of her wondered if she wouldn’t be better off as a warrior, as she was before these promotions. (There was no reason to consider it.) She continued, quickly; best to explain before he made his decision. “I warn you that it will not be an easy rank to hold. Not now, perhaps not ever…Maxence’s rash actions have alienated us from the other courts, and there have been no shortage of hostilities to further irritate the wounds between us.” That was discounting all of the mistrust and unrest within the Court; it was full of hot tempers and snakes, and Seraphina, though distrusting by nature, was no longer sure who was ally and who was enemy among the sands. (A part of her was slowly growing to distrust her closest advisor – something was strange about Avdotya. She had changed, and, though Seraphina could not pinpoint precisely why, sometimes when she looked into her eyes she saw something that made her wonder if they both truly desired the same things. Perhaps it was nothing but paranoia. She hoped it was nothing but paranoia.) In any case, she needed someone steadfast to take her place as Emissary, someone who wouldn’t rile the tempers of the other nations further…and, Solis willing, Eik seemed more than capable of making friends. She regarded him with the mask of cool composure that she always wore, her odd eyes lingering on his own.

“You possess certain qualities that most of those who dwell among these sands lack. I believe you are more than equipped to handle the challenge…but, of course, the choice is yours. If you require time to consider it, you have all that you need.” Within reason, of course – there was work to be done.

@

@Eik - whooo, my muse is shot. sorry this took so long.
anyways, I do believe that you can post for Eik's rank to be updated, now! <3

[Eik]

- - - - -
I DO NOT BELIEVE THINGS ARE REBORN IN FIRE
I BELIEVE THEY'RE CONSUMED BY FIRE
- - - - -

He's always had a good grasp of direction. A sense, even without seeing sun or shadow, which way is North. But he's never been good at knowing where to go, what to do. He was a roamer long before he lost his home, and that loss had only heightened the sense of drifting, aimlessly, riding the currents of time and fate and circumstance. He had hoped to find some meaning here in Solterra, and he has yet to settle on anything concrete. There has been no revelation of this is who I am or even this is where I belong, but as he grasps in the darkness he feels something there. Some slippery thing that he can't grip onto, not yet, but the point is- there is something where there was once nothing.

It is progress, and after years of nothingness this small spark of hope is everything to him.

Seraphina is part of it, this change. After all, she was there in the cell with Rostislav, when Eik began to question the lines drawn in the sand. Then she showed him writing, scrolls and papers that woke a thirst in him he didn't realize was there. And she herself is important in this, not just the things she's said and done. From their first encounter he has trusted her, without any particular reason other than a sense that he could. For the man who considers himself slow to come to conclusions, in her case a simple, immediate sense of intuition was enough. He's needed that trust, with her and others, to keep the despair at bay.

All of this to say that he is dumbfounded as she starts speaking, a startled expression bursting across his features before quickly becoming reigned under control. He holds back his response in order to listen silently and carefully to her. Somewhere far away, absently, he admires the great care she puts into selecting her words- it is something he tries to do.

Eik holds his tongue, which has never been a problem for him, and listens with the same deliberateness with which she speaks.

When she is done speaking there is a small pause as he gathers his thoughts, and he replies, solidly, "Of course I will be your Emissary." Doubt writhes deep in his stomach but it is no thing that thinking about will change. He had said he was there, if she needed anything of him. Anything-- so how could he say no to her now, just because the title feels a bit like a noose?

"What... exactly do I do?" He knows the vaguities of course, but... the day to day routines, the time required of him, the freedom he has to make decisions and the authority of those decisions, it all seems overwhelming and he isn't sure what the next steps are. He is willing but ignorant, and that does not seem to him like a good combination. "I mean, now."

-  -  -
AND THE FIRE HAS A LIFE OF ITS OWN
-  -  -

@Seraphina <3

[Seraphina]

OH MY OWN VOICE CANNOT SAVE ME NOW

--

He was startled, at first. As she looked into his startled features, watching him struggle to regain some sense of composure, she was put in mind of herself just over a year ago – young, naïve, and uncertain, blindsided by a promotion for which she felt utterly unprepared and utterly unable to reject. He settled quickly, though, and she thought that was part of the reason why she chose him. Seraphina kept a careful watch on his features even as she continued to speaking, gauging his reaction. Shock gave way to perception. Good.

He didn’t hesitate to give her an answer as she had anticipated – instead, he gave a fractional pause, as if to collect himself, and then told her that he would. (Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief, though she was slightly amused at the way he chose to accept her offer. Of course. As though it was simple and natural…but maybe it was, for him.) She met his gaze evenly, a hint of warmth flickering momentarily into her steely gaze. “Thank you, Eik.”

And then he asked his first question. She expected it, of course; anyone would have questions, especially Eik. The man was practically made of them.

“Your job will consist of handling the Day Court’s foreign affairs. You will have the opportunity – if you consider it that – to travel to the realms of the other courts, both to keep an eye on their own movements and interests and to engage in diplomacy on behalf of the Day Court.” Seraphina missed the travelling, sometimes. Now she was confined to this desert; it had never felt more like a prison than it did with the crown on her head, or around her throat. “You will also be expected to act as my counsel, help to decide cases in court, and remain impartial as we attempt to make decisions. You will have to familiarize yourself with the history of the Day Court, and you will be forced to engage with its politics.” There was a hint of something akin to disgust in the young queen’s voice as she mentioned Solterran politics; it was only a hair away from her usual apathy, but the difference was still audible. It was gone when she spoke again. “It will consist of a good deal of travelling; you will constantly be between nations. When you are here, I suspect that you will spend a good deal of time in the library, reading and researching and writing.” She wondered if he had been practicing – after they had spoken in the library, Seraphina had thought that he might. “What would you like to know? I will tell you as much as I can.” Solis knew that she hadn’t the faintest notion of what being Emissary had meant when she had taken on the title; the very least she could do for Eik was to answer his questions.

@

@Eik - <3

[Eik]

- - - - -
I DO NOT BELIEVE THINGS ARE REBORN IN FIRE
I BELIEVE THEY'RE CONSUMED BY FIRE
- - - - -

She looks at him and he looks at her and it suddenly strikes him as funny. The circles they churn, the dust motes illuminated in the evening light, him watching her watching him, the nervous acceptance, all of it-- funny. Flawed and yet good, almost perfect, the way life so often is. And all this despite the loss, the pain, the madness-- or because of it? He does not laugh but he feels feather-light for a moment.

And like a feather he falls, or rather drifts, back down into himself, his machine of a body, and his mind returns to the moment, and the future and past as they relate to the matter at hand, and he forgets for a moment all other things.

Diplomacy is a foreign thing to him, yet it doesn't seem so difficult here. Back home, or rather what was once home, there was no such thing as diplomacy, no reasoning to be had with the warmongering tribes. No such thing as peace unless you claimed it for yourself, in the refuge of your mind or the solace of worship.

He wonders suddenly if that place was hell, or purgatory- it all seems so insane to him now.

He had not expected this vocation to include so much traveling, and he feels a little lighter with this information. And reading and writing, while not his strengths they are his newfound interests; he needs no encouragement to develop those skills. What he does wonder is how to apply his (admittedly directionless) wandering. He is naturally curious about how others live and think, but that doesn't seem as useful to an emissary- he supposes now his interests will have to be funneled more toward learning more about the courts themselves and the way they are run. Similarly he will have to represent something bigger than himself, and his idea of that bigger thing will need some refinement.

He thinks, and thinks, comfortable in knowing that she is at least a bit familiar with the way his mind works. The long silence and the flood of questions that follow. "What are your goals as sovereign?" He asks. "How do you see our relationships with the other courts, and how would you like them to be?" He assumes relations with the night court are still rocky, but the other courts are a small mystery. He has not had any hostile encounters with dawn or dusk (on the contrary, they've been nothing short of pleasant) but that was on an individual level, and Eik does not tend to provoke the nastier sides of people.

Of course, he will later kick himself for turning his attentions immediately to the other courts. Travel has grabbed his attention and run off with it.

"Do I take anyone with me?" He is accustomed to traveling alone, prefers it really, but can see the value in having another set or two of eyes and ears. "Or any thing? Gifts?" His people had traded in words, and it was custom to pay for hospitality with stories. But he'd never been a gifted storyteller, not even in his mother tongue- he never put enough feeling into his tales, and was never generous with detail. His imagination was always far larger than he had the words to express and so he slowly stopped trying. But the customs in Novus are different, and there are far more valuable things than words. For example, that honeyed mead he had in Dusk. He'd take a bottle of that over a story, any time.

-  -  -
AND THE FIRE HAS A LIFE OF ITS OWN
-  -  -

@Seraphina good lord I keep spelling it emisarry lol, thank u spell check

[Seraphina]

OH MY OWN VOICE CANNOT SAVE ME NOW

--

She watched him roll his thoughts over in his mind in silence; Eik, she’d learned, was always thinking. His mind reminded her of a dam keeping water at bay – once the floodgates were opened, everything came rushing out at once in a long, meandering stream. Of all the Solterrans that had come to mind when she’d considered who she wanted at her side as emissary, he’d been the only one to stand out. Eik wanted to learn, and, at some point in her nation’s bloodsoaked history, that burning desire for knowledge had flickered out to nothing, or perhaps it had been smothered; either way, it was gone, like dust in the wind. (Reforming the court’s educational system would be a mess, and she shuddered to think of it.) Those thoughts receded with his words – she was quick to consider and just as quick to answer.

“Most of them are domestic,” She admitted, though he pointed the direction of his inquiry towards her foreign policy before she could rattle off a rambling explanation of Solterran politics and history. “Zolin has caused more than his share of problems in Solterra – those must be dealt with. However, in order to do so, we need to maintain positive relations with Terrastella and Delumine…and prevent tensions with Denocte from reaching a head. I believe it would be in our best interests to see if Dawn would be interested in trade and to see if Dusk would be inclined towards an alliance.” Seraphina doubted that the perpetually-neutral citizens of Delumine would ever truly seek an alliance, least of all with as brutal a kingdom as Solterra; Terrastella, on the other hand, had shown some interest in their warriors in the past, and she had heard whispers of a falling-out in their relationship with Denocte at the festival that she had been unable to attend. They were mere rumors, of course, whispers on the wind, but smoke never existed without fire to feed it. Perhaps the situation in Terrastella was not so out of her grasp as she had anticipated – perhaps love was as fickle as Avdotya had claimed the day Seraphina had taken the throne.

He asked, then, about taking companions on the road. That would, she imagine, be for the best – guards, at the very least. “If you so desire, though I would be cautious in your choices.” Most of her travels were in the company of Avdotya and Maxence or alone. The silver was, after all, distrusting by nature; on unsteady ground, she preferred an environment that she had some degree of control over, and she’d learned that Solterran tempers were difficult to bridle. His next question provoked the mare to momentary, contemplative silence, before she mused, “Gifts…mmm. I know not what we could offer other nations – Solterran steel is the best in Novus, but I…do not know if it is in our best interest to give weapons, unless we have firm alliances in place.” Specifically, she’d prefer the sun kingdom’s weapons kept far from the hands of Caligo’s children, and she was still unsure of Solterra’s standing with Dusk and Dawn. “Perhaps you could ask the blacksmiths to craft something more…aesthetic as a gift.” Lanterns, or jewelry – pretty things. Seraphina despised pretty on principle; it left the bitter taste of Solterran nobility in her mouth. However, pretty was good for earning favors, and Solterra needed them desperately.

@

@Eik - <3

[Eik]

- - - - -
I DO NOT BELIEVE THINGS ARE REBORN IN FIRE
I BELIEVE THEY'RE CONSUMED BY FIRE
- - - - -

He is okay with being watched by her.

He is used to eyes- everyone is always looking, always peering into you in a way he sometimes finds rude. He's always been deliberate with his gaze, not wanting to see what cannot be unseen. For the most part he does not want to be seen by those with eyes like butcher knives, who don't look but see. But with some, he is okay with being seen-- comfortable, even. Regardless, he is too busy in his mind to care about such things right now. Too busy listening, and thinking.

Eik nods at her words. Coincidentally, Dawn and Dusk seem the most approachable to him- He knows Asterion in Dusk (he does not smile, but there is a flash of warmth in his eyes- how good it will be to see his friend again!), and Ipomoea in Dawn. Both good men, trustworthy- this he knows in the way a sailor knows the changing weather based only on the color of the sea.

It feels good to have confidence in something.

"I see." He says, feeling obligated to say something. It seems a privilege to be privy to her thoughts, so meticulously organized even as they freewheel.

"Solterran steel is the best in Novus"-

His glance falls to her collar. He thought, for a while, it was a necklace. Something supposed to be pretty. That is how garish Novus was to him at first-- everything seemed a vanity. As he looks at her neck something like anger stirs in him; he hastens to settle it, reminds himself that everything has a time and a place.

(somewhere in the dark nameless place, a squeaky door opens. His thoughts rattle against each other like dice shaken in closed hands.

A quake of thunder rolls across his chest, down his spine. It settles, and he knows the day is coming when he won't be able to contain it.)

"Perhaps you could ask the blacksmiths to craft something more…aesthetic as a gift."

He nods. A sensible idea, he would not feel comfortable gifting weapons unless war was upon them. "It will be done." He says, hoping the blacksmiths have a better understanding of aesthetic than he does... left to his own hapless devices he'd surely show up to Terrastella bearing a beautiful gift of ball and chain, or something equally insulting.

It takes discipline to sort through his thoughts. They are running in a myriad of directions, too fast and far-flung for him to wrestle into cohesion tonight. He is surprised at how readily he has stepped into this new position, and how quickly his mind has embraced the tasks before him. Not more than a year prior he was wandering the wasteland, alone beyond loneliness.

(not even selling your soul, but giving it away-- and with only a blink of hesitation. And we thought a man fallen with his face to the ground could sink no further.)

He looks to the many candles across the room, then the darkening sky, then her two-toned eyes, and he holds back a deep sigh. "I have so many questions for you. We will be here a while?" His slight accent still lingers, he still cuts off sentences here and there and phrases questions like statements and vice versa. He still clings to the past, in many ways. He does not realize yet that this is his harbor now, although he is beginning to accept it as such.

Night is falling quickly. He remembers his last experience with Seraphina in the library, the pain and fear that consumed him. And as he begins to light the candles he absent-mindedly marvels at how far away that moment seems.

How cruel time can be,
and yet-
how kind.

we will never really understand.


-  -  -
AND THE FIRE HAS A LIFE OF ITS OWN
-  -  -

-curtains close-
@Seraphina ah so many words, so little said, so sorry. and we're out, hope you're okay with the way I ended that <3

[Seraphina]

OH MY OWN VOICE CANNOT SAVE ME NOW

--

Nods and agreement, understanding that has not quite sunk in (or so she assumes). That is the only way, she reasons, that she can understand how he seems to have so easily accepted her proposition, how quickly his mind seems to be ticking forward again, towards some untold destination. She remembers when Maxence declared her Emissary, so unexpected and so public; Seraphina had never expected to be more than another body to feed to the war machine. She never expected to become a diplomat, much less a queen, and more than a small part of her still shuddered in disbelief when she thought of the events of the past year. She too, she thought, was ticking on forward in some direction that she couldn’t quite place. She didn’t know what that meant, yet, but she did know that she was grateful that she was not proceeding forward in the same cold solitude with which she had always pressed forward before.

She notices his glance at her collar when she mentions Solterran steel. Eik doesn’t know what it means, of course, or so she assumes – most who aren’t Solterran by blood don’t, or, at the very least, don’t speak of it. She wonders if he wonders what the point of the collar is; she is, by nature, far from prone to the showiness that accessories provide, and, given its omnipresent status, curled around her throat, it does not quite seem like an accessory besides. Closer examination reveals nicks and scratches lining the shiny metal surface, reminiscent of the scars that knot and roll beneath the comfort of her soft silver coat. Of course, any assumptions that might easily be made of it are likely far from the ugly, ugly truth of her noose, and she isn’t apt to put thoughts or questions to rest. Not about that. Not if she can avoid it.

What is not asked, she will not answer. (And that is a question that she holds close to her heart.)
“I have so many questions for you. We will be here a while?” It was what she expected, but it still provoked the ghost of a smile from the silver mare; not quite a grin, but the faint curling of the corners of her charcoal lips, so rare and strangely warm. It was good, she thought, to be able to trust someone – to be able to share in a purpose. She had spent so much time with little concern beyond some desperate, instinctual urge towards survival; when freed of it, she didn’t know where to go or what to do, and wandered the dunes like a little lost ghost. Seraphina had spent months choking on dry, stagnant desert air. Now…now there was motion once more.

“As long as you wish,” came her soft response, and a nod. Darkness crept in through the windowpanes, drawing shadows up along the walls, but the light from the candles kept Calligo’s night at bay. Another late night – but not one spent alone, with nothing but the cold comfort of history. She was changing, she thought. She didn’t know how, exactly, but she knew that she was.

(She didn’t want to be alone anymore.)

@

@Eik - it was lovely! anyways, fin <3