[AW] thy kingdom come. [meeting]

[Aislinn]

A I S L I N N thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven — The night sky does not mourn, but bleeds in burning embers that are its stars. Silver tears drip and blink across the sky in a brilliant show of anger amidst the smoke that rises from the mountains far. The beauty of the Night Goddess’ skies is a perfect contradiction to the battlefield that has overtaken their borders, leaching across the courts like an ebony stain. Now, the regime is angry. She is angry. Together, and only together, did they swallow the hard truth of what was to come. And it would be said that on this night, this night everlasting, that Calligo herself struck down with her meteors as her children walled themselves within her kingdom. They will come to know this night as the Seclusion. For too long has the Night — her Night — ran rampant; for too long have the Solar Courts maimed and warred and bled the star’s sons and daughters without consequence. But for no longer. Far, far away, she can swear that the smoke of dragon’s fire still curls in her lungs. She can almost hear the roars of an ancient beast resounding across the towers of stone that was their mountain borders. And now, she stands as the Messenger. ”Denocte!” her voices booms like rolling thunder, reverberating against the stone walls. The growing wind tangles her hair across her face, a halo of wicked silver that only essenuates the glow of her eyes. Let them see her. Let them see their King and Regent and Emissary on this night. Let them. For together she will stand by their sides, for her people and for her goddess. She had sworn an oath the night she had ascended after all. And like hell would she damn herself to break it now. A wicked, lovely thing she is. The stormsinger stands upon the raised dais, orbs of blue piercing every soul that’s gaze lands on her midnight skin. She reaches to capture their stares, igniting their colors with the galaxies of Calligo’s own, as she can only hope to unite them with their decree. Aislinn does not falter before her people. Her storm-wrought soul only searches for Peace — desperately clinging to the Eternal Calm that is of legend alone. And when she looks to their faces as they stare up at her.. she sees blood stained snow. Rips through the Void of this world and the next. Sun drops bleeding across  Solterran sands in attacks of fire and ash and dust. How much more could Denocte take until they must atone? She need only hum to summon a crack of thunder to silence their whispers, but yet she does not. ”The Raven Gates at the Arma Pass have been closed.” She sweeps the crowds that gather, marking each face both foreign and familiar. The shadows that grow on this long night cradle her as she continues to speak: ”This is an order of protection. Our solitude is one of Peace. Movement outside of our walls is hereby forbidden to steady the sea of chaos that has begun to rift across the kingdoms.” As if her goddess’ own star-strewn hands held her, each breath steadies the ache that claws in her chest. She is not innocent in this matter; her own undoing only added gasoline to the flames of their disaster. But Aislinn would not stand without a mirror showing her demon’s ugly face. She would be transparent. They had every right to know why the gates of feather, obsidian, and gold have been shut. After only a year of their opening once more. The Regent sucks in a breath of humid air, heady with woodsmoke and heavy with the invisible chains of her words. ”We have come to an agreement that it is the best for our Court to return to isolation. The discord of our actions, and of the actions of others, has caused the fragile calm between our kingdoms to shake.” Her chin raises, as she blinks to both Reichenbach and Isorath; their presence a constant solace at her side. ”I am no stranger to these actions.” The hush of defiance of some begins to rise amongst the crowds that grow to hear their stormsinger speak. But she does not relent as she points heavensward to the Calligo’s brilliance of stars — silver streaking across the sky in shivers of light. ”We will stand as steady as the stars,” she promises, ”as we always have. Our Goddess has never wavered from us, and like Her, we will do what is best for our people.” Her wings stretch beneath the sky, imagining the mountain pass alight with blazing red. One last decree to pass; a promise, a warning, not nearly close to a threat. Not against her own people. Not against her Court, her kingdom, her home. They only wanted to protect them. That was all. Aislinn’s voice softens, but her eyes do not. ”For those who are blessed with flight, you have until the last ember dies to depart our kingdom, or make your temporary goodbyes. For all others, you have moments once the fires of the Pass die out. I can only imagine Aether will not secure safe passage for long.” May the stars be with us all. TO ALL NIGHT COURT MEMBERS! ☽☉☾ On the night of the mountain’s fires and Calligo’s meteor shower, the Regime calls to all of Denocte. The Raven Gates have been closed. (You can read it in this thread.) Entrance and exit from Denocte is hereby forbidden. For the safety of Calligo’s sons and daughters, the Night Court has reverted back to an isolationist state until further notice. This meeting is not mandatory. Denoctians currently outside the kingdom’s walls will be able to return to Night through the Raven Gates, but once they do, your character will not be permitted to leave. The same goes to other courtiers who are not native to Denocte. Once your character is in Denocte, they must stay. If your character has wings, an air patrol will be initiated to monitor the skies. The air patrol will rise with the sun’s first rays. If your character is blessed with wings.. you have until then to depart or say your temporary goodbyes. All other characters have the chance to leave, but not for long! Your character is open to ask and inquire as many questions to the Regime during this thread. This is an order of protection by decree of the Night Court Regime. @reichenbach @isorath

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