It was not the voice of his goddess that answered him, nor was it a voice of any god.
No, it were a mortal that had deigned to pull him from his worshipful stupor and approach through the flickering darkness, a wraith in the night. The stallion inhaled, not recognizing her scent as that of the Night Court's and feeling his lip curl of it's own accord. She was the same height as he, and silver as his eyes, though her own gaze was borne of storm clouds and wrathful seas. Where he was bleak, she was fruitful. Where he was empty, she was overflowing. Where he walked with the heaviness of a thousand souls upon his back, her steps were feather light.
He tried to convince himself that it was her intrusion that enraged him so, not the security and the surety with which she held her faintly dished skull. It was the way she shoved herself into his life without his consent, a stake driven into stone and a knife plunged between ribs.
But he knew this wasn't true.
He was envious of this woman, viridian-eyed and seething at the saccharine smile that splayed over her overtly feminine features. The comfort with which she wore her skin was a white-hot brand of humiliation to him. He was a king, yet he had never carried himself like one. She was a plain citizen, no crown adorned her head, no jewels pressed to her throat, yet she was a queen in her own right, regal and elegant with enough humility that Camdis knew that if she were to sit the throne beside him, the people would accept him only because of their love for her.
"What do you know of my deity? Has she spoken to you, a child of Day?" He spat the words at her, full of venom and disdain, "Why do you approach me here, in this holy house. You know well enough what your lord did to my Lady of Night."
His eyes flashed with his misplaced fury, teeth clenched against the maelstrom he struggled to hold at bay. Some small part of him knew that it was not the stranger's fault, the quarrel of the gods. It was also not her fault that he was what he was, it was no one's fault but his own.
But fault be damned, he was angry and she presented herself a target.
No, it were a mortal that had deigned to pull him from his worshipful stupor and approach through the flickering darkness, a wraith in the night. The stallion inhaled, not recognizing her scent as that of the Night Court's and feeling his lip curl of it's own accord. She was the same height as he, and silver as his eyes, though her own gaze was borne of storm clouds and wrathful seas. Where he was bleak, she was fruitful. Where he was empty, she was overflowing. Where he walked with the heaviness of a thousand souls upon his back, her steps were feather light.
He tried to convince himself that it was her intrusion that enraged him so, not the security and the surety with which she held her faintly dished skull. It was the way she shoved herself into his life without his consent, a stake driven into stone and a knife plunged between ribs.
But he knew this wasn't true.
He was envious of this woman, viridian-eyed and seething at the saccharine smile that splayed over her overtly feminine features. The comfort with which she wore her skin was a white-hot brand of humiliation to him. He was a king, yet he had never carried himself like one. She was a plain citizen, no crown adorned her head, no jewels pressed to her throat, yet she was a queen in her own right, regal and elegant with enough humility that Camdis knew that if she were to sit the throne beside him, the people would accept him only because of their love for her.
"What do you know of my deity? Has she spoken to you, a child of Day?" He spat the words at her, full of venom and disdain, "Why do you approach me here, in this holy house. You know well enough what your lord did to my Lady of Night."
His eyes flashed with his misplaced fury, teeth clenched against the maelstrom he struggled to hold at bay. Some small part of him knew that it was not the stranger's fault, the quarrel of the gods. It was also not her fault that he was what he was, it was no one's fault but his own.
But fault be damned, he was angry and she presented herself a target.
@Rhoswen Ah jeez, I love her a lot. Sorry Camdis is a raging pile of garbage
