[AW] the courage of stars; dusk meeting

[Theodosia]

let our eyes show the
fire in our hearts tonight

When she thinks of Denocte, now, she thinks of the slender figure she had seen weaving through the crowds, of lapis lazuli catching the lantern light as he had slipped into a tent. By the time she had made her own way through the crowds, he had been gone -- perhaps a figment of her imagination, the longing for a home to go to in a strange land, but perhaps her dam had truly found his own way into Novus.

She hoped it was so. Her dam was a good soul, and he could find peace within Denocte, she knew that he could.

She stands at Asterion’s side with her coat stained by the paint she had worn, easily seen against the pale canvas of her skin, with storm-engraved armor clasped over her chest and legs, and her eyes scan over everyone in attendance. They linger only once, over the Commander whose tongue is as sharp as her eyes, before the new Champion takes a deep breath and steps forward to speak.

“The Commander is right,” She says, her eyes meeting everyone at the meeting in turn, her fellow Champions and the few citizens who have trickled in. “Even if this foolishness doesn’t boil over into war, we are ill-equipped to handle any sort of turmoil.” One wing extends meaningfully towards their home, towards the rent earth and previously flooded plains, and in her eyes are the ghosts of everyone she had failed to save, stretched too thin across too many disasters.

When the stallion stepped forward, she offered him both her attention and her smile, brief and strained as it was. Her own magic was a sore spot still, a reminder of her useless sire and of the land she had left behind in her past, of the storms that had so recently raged through Terrastella and ravaged her people. She stays silent, now, however -- she has much to learn about her new position, she knows, and much to do still.

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