She chose the time well; deliberately, intimately, delicately. Despite that both her and her chosen company were.. wandering souls. They were too much alike that they shared traveling hearts, where neither of them could no sooner be grounded to one single place for too long. How ironic it would seem that altogether, they could not be anymore chained to these worlds and these kingdoms than they are in this moment. One a dutiful new queen, and the other.. a regent who’s crown could not weigh any lower upon her head. Heavy lies the head that wears the crown. Her own words are lead thickening her tongue and parching her lips. The truth of them rings clear, pure and sickeningly raw. She did not know the weight of them then when she had said them — on the cusp of fall collapsing into winter — but now? Now, the Mirror of Truth shows her exactly the weight of such words. Vitreus Lake pools in a smooth disc of silver under a sky washed in twilight blue and lavender; perfectly reflecting the first dusting of stars. There is a magic to this place that she cannot put her finger on, for time seems to have stopped, choosing to linger in the beauty of the in-between that is dusk and nightfall. The air is sticky, clinging to her midnight skin in thick layers of humidity. Yet, the stormsinger cannot help but feel more at peace, where fireflies slowly blink awake in glimmers of gold and dance. One year ago, she had met Asterion in this same place. And now a year as passed, and oh, so much has changed since then. She awaits his sister, her dearest friend, her Flower Queen, at the edge of the silver waters. Heat trickles down her spine, where ropes of ivory threads are braided with the lilies that name the lake their home. Her nervousness is at war with the calmness of this serene place. For although she had abandoned her moonstone diadem in favor of flowers in her hair, she remembers all too well their last meeting. The shock of too many things that cannot be unsaid or undone in the last remnants of winter and spring’s brutal awakening. Her wing had been broken. She had been beaten, scarred, and bruised. Their Courts, their kingdoms, at a disarray. Aislinn had ascended, risen to her king’s call.. and.. There were too many things. Far too much. Oxygen hitches in her lungs with trembling breaths as she shakes her head, staring at her reflection for comfort. At the woman she had become, both for herself, and for the people that needed her. She huffs at the words that continue to replay across her mind; a broken record with no hope for stopping in blissful silence. She listens as the cicadas hum, before her ears catch the subtle change that shifts in the air. The rustle, the whispering grace, the hush of blossoms floating through golden hair. A smile softly curls the edge of her lips. She’s here. Without turning, she closes her eyes, swallowing the world with darkness. A single, smooth breath releases the tension in her chest like a cork spilling captured wine. "You came." @ "Aislinn speech." |
