J U D E Could've built a garden from all the flowers that you gave me · · · Jude was not brilliant. He didn’t burn as brightly as the other kirins that had wandered from Vectaeryn. He wasn’t embolden and quick witted like Vaella. He wasn’t beautiful and terrible like Isorath. Jude had always been an oddity in comparison to his scaled peers. Rejecting an egg had been the first sign he wasn’t as conforming. He had contented himself to the company of himself and his art. Surrounded by flora in the blooming light of his estate, flourishing life all around him. But he had been held in an unshakable sorrow.. But he was different than that. He wasn’t brilliant, but he refused to be a coward. Isorath had whispered warnings of Terrastella but he wasn’t so easily convinced. After months of wandering he had found himself and he had a new sense of confidence in his own actions. Even though his kin remained in night, he never believed himself destined for darkness. Dusk had left him uneasy his first visit through, but he knew that was more of the ceaseless waves of anxiety. Times he still was cradled in a womb of terror, his mind coddling him with intrusive thoughts and his chest closing in on itself.. Today though he was determined. For days he had ruminated on his conversation with Isorath, thought over and over on their exchange. Love was a poison and he saw how it was murdering the stability of courts. It was blinding monarchs and leading to reckless, foolish actions that left a taste that mimicked that of stale wine on his tongue. He walked with Mittens to the swamp and found Florentine easily amongst the foliage. Mittens stretched out languidly, disinterested in the conflict and busied herself with an appropriate amount of sun bathing. Jude didn’t mingle amongst any other faces, didn’t invite conversation. These people were strangers and the ones who he had loved aren’t among their numbers anymore but still.. There was no lingering distress as there had been at the previous meeting. Jude stared on and listened to Florentine, letting the words sink in but he couldn’t help but feel a comment boil on the edge of his tongue. He smacked his lips and felt that similar sense tingling through his limbs. It began in his belly and spread, shuttering up his spine, through sinew and bone. His chest starts to cave in but he takes a hearty breath, counts back from ten and does it over and over until he can feel himself settle enough. He waits until Florentine finishes and he turns his eyes to the mare. “Why are you agitating war with a court with superior numbers?” He demands, “Your heart is endangering the lives of your citizens. It is good you are finally turning your attentions away from love games for the sake of our court, but it never should’ve been the first priority.” He can feel his limbs tremble and he nearly collapses. What has he done? But it doesn’t stop. “Reich’s actions were abhorrent and that alone is evidence on how foolish it is to let your personal feelings dictate your actions in the game of politics.” He says and ears pin back against his head, “My ties to Vectaeryn and Isorath may display a bias in my words but I come from someone who cares. Terrastella has something beautiful, but you are awakening a fire. I know what the kirins of my homeland are like. We are a proud people.” He says, “What will you do when a dragon appears at the doorstep and burns down your beloved hospital? Why would you waste your time waging a dangerous war with a court that has numbers vastly superior to our own!? Your first actions should be addressing the weakening numbers of Dusk and bolstering unity within your people. Strengthen internally to face a threat.” He takes a breath and wonders if he might finally stop but it continues. “For instance, you drove an asset straight into the arms of your enemy by dictating your choices by your heart. You will only continue to do so if you don’t cease with the actions of a love scorned woman.. I do not wish to be scorched by dragon fire because my queen provoked a beast in the name of heartache. Love does not belong in politics,” He says almost coldly, “the heart and the head must remain separate if you wish to create a united people. Do what you will with my words, but I speak only as someone who sees potential in Terrastella.” He then lets himself come down, choking on the bile from his own tenacity. Is this how it feels to speak up? |
