T
he owl would arrive in the early morning, when the first few rays of light are still struggling to pierce the sky. The dawn illuminates his wings until they appear molten, and he streaks into the Court on wings of gold. He doesn’t yet know that it is the Emissary he will find, not the Sovereign.
But he perches on her windowsill and waits, holding in his beak a folded parchment sealed with red wax bearing the Delumine seal.
Dear Isra, Queen of Denocte,
The last time we spoke, you had been newly appointed as Queen of Denocte and both of our countries had been through unspeakable turmoil. I hope this letter finds you in a better state than when I left you.
Unfortunately, things seem to have gotten worse here in Delumine. I hope no one is planning a trip to see the poppy fields, as our borders have been closed. A pair of gruesome murders has been committed in our country, seemingly by a strange beast the likes of which we have never seen before. I fear they will not be the last.
I’m writing this letter because I know you as a storyteller, with wisdom unrivaled. It seems we are no closer to finding our culprit than we were on the night of the murders; but I implore you to help us, your friends, attempt to unravel this mystery. All I ask is to pick your brain.
In your travels, have you heard of a beast that lurks in the night and gorges itself on the flesh of man?
And if you don’t have an answer, I beg you: send me back some good news, if you can. Dawn Court is in need of a story with a happy ending.
Signed,
Ipomoea
Regent of the Dawn CourtOOC | @Moira
art by rhiann
