☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
but I do wonder how they know
cause they don't die if they don't grow
He seems to shrink in upon himself – she doesn’t know why. Perhaps he worries about appearing haughty, or disrespectful, but that isn’t of as much concern to her as what he says next. Prejudice? Well, she hadn’t thought about it before, but she supposes that being born between Day and Night would be difficult, to say the least. “Yes,” She says, simply, something strangely genuine in her icy tones, “I understand.” Not like a child born between worlds, but like a child soldier from the lowest echelons of Solterran society that rose to take a noble’s crown.
“I…imagine that your Regime has their reasons, though you might not be privy to them at the time. I do not know enough of what has occurred in Denocte to make much of a comment.” That much is true, and she’s reluctant to say too much, even to a child. If she ever seeks to soothe tensions, then she must remain calm, composed, rational – reserved, even. She hates feeling so passive and so helpless, but she knows that she can’t even risk provoking Novus’s most powerful nation while her own still lies in ruins. “It has done little to ease tensions, though – dragonfire does not soothe frayed nerves.” Almost rueful. Why would the Solterrans be comfortable, seeing the effects of the dragon that had not too long ago perched on the high towers of their capitol city? She can do nothing but try to tell them not to worry, yet, but each passing day with no word from the Night Kingdom sets her paranoia ablaze. “I am not at all opposed to talking with Denocte. In fact, I just discussed an arrangement with their Emissary, to rectify the previous crimes that both of our courts have committed against each other. If you have been told that Solterra is the reason for this…” Gods, if that was what he thought, she might be in more trouble than she had previously thought. She looks the boy down with a cool, cool stare, but she wonders if he might sense the worry in her gaze. “...then I do not know what we have done.” She sounds tired, she knows, but she is tired – tired of her people suffering, tired of accounting for mistakes that are not her own, of playing the bloodthirsty villainess in what seems to be Novus’s favorite horror story. She knows what they say about Solterrans. Amoral sandsnakes, little more than brutality and venom. No culture, no stories, no history. Nothing but violence and war. The Stormsinger’s words ring in her ears again, and she loathes them. You don’t know.
“I can’t say that I know where your father or your sister are,” She says, at his final comment, “but you’re more than welcome to stay in the Capitol as long as you wish. Have you ever been to Solterra before?” She seems to recall seeing his twin, a time or two, but she doesn’t think that she’s ever seen him – perhaps a tour is in order.
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tags | @Cynix
notes | <3
but I do wonder how they know
cause they don't die if they don't grow
He seems to shrink in upon himself – she doesn’t know why. Perhaps he worries about appearing haughty, or disrespectful, but that isn’t of as much concern to her as what he says next. Prejudice? Well, she hadn’t thought about it before, but she supposes that being born between Day and Night would be difficult, to say the least. “Yes,” She says, simply, something strangely genuine in her icy tones, “I understand.” Not like a child born between worlds, but like a child soldier from the lowest echelons of Solterran society that rose to take a noble’s crown.
“I…imagine that your Regime has their reasons, though you might not be privy to them at the time. I do not know enough of what has occurred in Denocte to make much of a comment.” That much is true, and she’s reluctant to say too much, even to a child. If she ever seeks to soothe tensions, then she must remain calm, composed, rational – reserved, even. She hates feeling so passive and so helpless, but she knows that she can’t even risk provoking Novus’s most powerful nation while her own still lies in ruins. “It has done little to ease tensions, though – dragonfire does not soothe frayed nerves.” Almost rueful. Why would the Solterrans be comfortable, seeing the effects of the dragon that had not too long ago perched on the high towers of their capitol city? She can do nothing but try to tell them not to worry, yet, but each passing day with no word from the Night Kingdom sets her paranoia ablaze. “I am not at all opposed to talking with Denocte. In fact, I just discussed an arrangement with their Emissary, to rectify the previous crimes that both of our courts have committed against each other. If you have been told that Solterra is the reason for this…” Gods, if that was what he thought, she might be in more trouble than she had previously thought. She looks the boy down with a cool, cool stare, but she wonders if he might sense the worry in her gaze. “...then I do not know what we have done.” She sounds tired, she knows, but she is tired – tired of her people suffering, tired of accounting for mistakes that are not her own, of playing the bloodthirsty villainess in what seems to be Novus’s favorite horror story. She knows what they say about Solterrans. Amoral sandsnakes, little more than brutality and venom. No culture, no stories, no history. Nothing but violence and war. The Stormsinger’s words ring in her ears again, and she loathes them. You don’t know.
“I can’t say that I know where your father or your sister are,” She says, at his final comment, “but you’re more than welcome to stay in the Capitol as long as you wish. Have you ever been to Solterra before?” She seems to recall seeing his twin, a time or two, but she doesn’t think that she’s ever seen him – perhaps a tour is in order.
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tags | @Cynix
notes | <3
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
