☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
try try your whole life to be righteous and to be good
wind up on your own floor, choking on blood
It’s strangely comfortable, she thinks, to talk to him; she has become accustomed to being greeted with hostility, inside and outside of the desert land that she calls her home, but this…is far from it, and she doesn’t know exactly how that makes her feel. Her guard isn’t really down, of course – it never is, and she’s not sure that it ever really will be, much less when facing someone who could so easily become her enemy if her nation were ever threatened. She is, she thinks, a bit softer than usual, a bit kinder, and perhaps it is just the strangeness of their situation. Seraphina never really expected to meet someone from the other side of the war, much less someone that would admit it to her – but here he is, and he’s been kind to her.
“There isn’t any harm if what I speak is the truth, is there?” A sly, sly smile that she doesn’t know how to read, and something in his voice to match. She’s quick to respond, albeit with a light enough tone to make it clear that she’s not being especially serious. “There you go, doing it again.” Flattery seemed to be something of a commonality in the Denoctians that she’d met, in the interactions she’d seen between them – but perhaps that was only because she comes from such a harsh, violent land, where conversations tended to be as explosive and dangerous as a minefield. While she understood that the people in the Night Kingdom were far quicker to place a well-aimed knife between your ribs, they usually maintained some veneer of kindness and courtesy (though this is obviously no veneer), if a sneering one.
He speaks his certainty that he will enjoy Solterra, and he offers his aid with anything that he can help while he is in the capitol. “…Thank you.” In a way, it is a hard thing to admit – both that they need help, and that they would accept it from a Denoctian, of all people, particularly in such a proud, defiant land. (Not to mention the rudeness in asking a favor of a guest.) They weathered the desert heat and the sand-struck beasts on a daily basis; why would they ever bow their heads to accept assistance from others? But she saw the rubble on a daily basis, too, a kingdom ripped up and torn open by violence and flame, and she knows in her heart that they are in no position to turn down a kindness. “Before you make the journey, send a hawk. I’ll send you something, so the guards won’t bother you.” She’s already imagining the medallion.
At his next words, she tilts her head. “Sneaking a Solterran Queen across the mountains without the Regime’s knowledge? How very Denoctian of you.” She quirked a brow at him, but she had to agree, though she knew how difficult it was for anything to pass in the Night Kingdom without the Sovereign and his flock of crows’ knowledge. She had only met Reichenbach once, and he wasn’t at all what she expected from his reputation, but she knew better than to doubt his spies, despite their failed attempt on Bexley’s life. “I would cherish the opportunity to see the Night Kingdom for myself – thank you.” She has seen parts of it, of course, but not all too much; passed through the gates only just after they were opened, when the entirety of Novus was in limbo and the Relic of Tempus hung heavy on her mind. However, back then, her steps had been unguided, her eyes uncertain – she did not know what she saw. Denocte was a shrouded kingdom, moreseo than any of the others, and their interactions with the rest of Novus – and Solterra in particular – had been few, save, at least, for violence. From what little she knew from the few natives she’d spoken to with any degree of comfort, it was a culture of great beauty with a rich history and fascinating art, albeit one that had spent many years behind the comfort of their walls. She remembers reading about the period that Solterra spent in isolation, but they were truly isolated, so she’s not sure that the comparison would mean anything, considering that Denocte’s ports had remained open, as far as she knew. They were cut off from their sibling courts, but not the world outside.
The moon had continued her lengthy descent across the sky, and, as Seraphina glances up towards her, she realizes that she has probably lingered for too long – she still has a pilgrimage to make, to put her people to rest. “…I should…continue moving,” She admits, finally, with some reluctance. The lantern laid to rest at her side floats up with her as she rises to her hooves, the soft light dancing off of her silver coat, and she offers a sideways glance at the sky through the opening in the cave’s ceiling. “Renwick. It has been a pleasure, truly.”
And then she is gone into the tunnels, dark silver blending with the shadows on the walls.
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tags | @Renwick
notes | laaaate post. l a a a te post. anyways, formally finishing this thread up, Sera out - this was a good time. ;D
try try your whole life to be righteous and to be good
wind up on your own floor, choking on blood
It’s strangely comfortable, she thinks, to talk to him; she has become accustomed to being greeted with hostility, inside and outside of the desert land that she calls her home, but this…is far from it, and she doesn’t know exactly how that makes her feel. Her guard isn’t really down, of course – it never is, and she’s not sure that it ever really will be, much less when facing someone who could so easily become her enemy if her nation were ever threatened. She is, she thinks, a bit softer than usual, a bit kinder, and perhaps it is just the strangeness of their situation. Seraphina never really expected to meet someone from the other side of the war, much less someone that would admit it to her – but here he is, and he’s been kind to her.
“There isn’t any harm if what I speak is the truth, is there?” A sly, sly smile that she doesn’t know how to read, and something in his voice to match. She’s quick to respond, albeit with a light enough tone to make it clear that she’s not being especially serious. “There you go, doing it again.” Flattery seemed to be something of a commonality in the Denoctians that she’d met, in the interactions she’d seen between them – but perhaps that was only because she comes from such a harsh, violent land, where conversations tended to be as explosive and dangerous as a minefield. While she understood that the people in the Night Kingdom were far quicker to place a well-aimed knife between your ribs, they usually maintained some veneer of kindness and courtesy (though this is obviously no veneer), if a sneering one.
He speaks his certainty that he will enjoy Solterra, and he offers his aid with anything that he can help while he is in the capitol. “…Thank you.” In a way, it is a hard thing to admit – both that they need help, and that they would accept it from a Denoctian, of all people, particularly in such a proud, defiant land. (Not to mention the rudeness in asking a favor of a guest.) They weathered the desert heat and the sand-struck beasts on a daily basis; why would they ever bow their heads to accept assistance from others? But she saw the rubble on a daily basis, too, a kingdom ripped up and torn open by violence and flame, and she knows in her heart that they are in no position to turn down a kindness. “Before you make the journey, send a hawk. I’ll send you something, so the guards won’t bother you.” She’s already imagining the medallion.
At his next words, she tilts her head. “Sneaking a Solterran Queen across the mountains without the Regime’s knowledge? How very Denoctian of you.” She quirked a brow at him, but she had to agree, though she knew how difficult it was for anything to pass in the Night Kingdom without the Sovereign and his flock of crows’ knowledge. She had only met Reichenbach once, and he wasn’t at all what she expected from his reputation, but she knew better than to doubt his spies, despite their failed attempt on Bexley’s life. “I would cherish the opportunity to see the Night Kingdom for myself – thank you.” She has seen parts of it, of course, but not all too much; passed through the gates only just after they were opened, when the entirety of Novus was in limbo and the Relic of Tempus hung heavy on her mind. However, back then, her steps had been unguided, her eyes uncertain – she did not know what she saw. Denocte was a shrouded kingdom, moreseo than any of the others, and their interactions with the rest of Novus – and Solterra in particular – had been few, save, at least, for violence. From what little she knew from the few natives she’d spoken to with any degree of comfort, it was a culture of great beauty with a rich history and fascinating art, albeit one that had spent many years behind the comfort of their walls. She remembers reading about the period that Solterra spent in isolation, but they were truly isolated, so she’s not sure that the comparison would mean anything, considering that Denocte’s ports had remained open, as far as she knew. They were cut off from their sibling courts, but not the world outside.
The moon had continued her lengthy descent across the sky, and, as Seraphina glances up towards her, she realizes that she has probably lingered for too long – she still has a pilgrimage to make, to put her people to rest. “…I should…continue moving,” She admits, finally, with some reluctance. The lantern laid to rest at her side floats up with her as she rises to her hooves, the soft light dancing off of her silver coat, and she offers a sideways glance at the sky through the opening in the cave’s ceiling. “Renwick. It has been a pleasure, truly.”
And then she is gone into the tunnels, dark silver blending with the shadows on the walls.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
tags | @
notes | laaaate post. l a a a te post. anyways, formally finishing this thread up, Sera out - this was a good time. ;D
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
