life's but a walking shadow
Indra had not been privy to the arrival of Terrastella’s messenger bird, and so she listens with interest as Araxes describes the god’s summons at the Denoctian court. “That must have been a moment to remember for a lifetime,” she murmurs, her mind less on the will of the god than on how it must have felt to be reminded so unexpectedly of one’s own insignificance, one’s own mortality. What had stuttered through each regime member’s heart, she wonders, at the sound of that impossible voice? She cannot help but think of Florentine, touched since birth by the magic of Time, and what the encounter might have meant to the flower queen.
Her present companion is still speaking of the gods, and Indra nods her head thoughtfully, more curious than she’d be willing to admit to hear what the stranger had to say. There was something so earnest about the other mare’s words that it was difficult to doubt her, despite her own skepticism. “Have you ever been blessed by one?” she asks. “Or know someone else who has?” She had heard rumors of strange and wondrous gifts bestowed upon those who held the deities’ favor: magic, or abilities, or mystical companions. In the riftlands, Indra’s veins had flowed with powers of their own, but there had been no gods in that place except for time and the rift itself.
The mare introduces herself as Araxes, Champion of Wisdom for the Night Court, and Indra can hear the sorrow in her words as she describes her home. “I understand these have been difficult months in Denocte,” the unicorn says carefully, her golden eyes seeking Araxes’ own. “I am sorry for everything you’ve had to go through.” For a moment she pauses, curiosity warring with a desire not to intrude, but she cannot help herself. “What is the situation now? Has anything changed?” And she wonders if this meeting with the gods might be more than just a holy experience—might be a chance for the four courts of Novus to come together and try again for peace.
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@Araxes @Random Events :))
