metaphor
It was the first time that Metaphor had ventured out from the Night Court without his beloved. Once, he’d wandered Novus alone… and that had brought him nothing but nightmares. Though he had been one to remain strong when exposed to the bodies in Delumine, the moment had planted a seed of darkness in the red stallion which had plagued him ever since.
Part of him burned with anger for the lack of justice, for the sheer heinousness of the crime. Some of him still was overwhelmed with sadness, and he shivered at night, visions of the bodies clouding his dreams with darkness. He needed to know why, needed to find answers for the dangers which presented themselves to those who called Novus home. Too much had already happened, and Metaphor had to know if the gods had a part in it, or if their own greed had led those in Novus to self-destruct.
The climb to Veneror Peak was tedious, and he had to stop and rest along the way. It was quite a distance to travel from Denocte, and by the time he arrived to the base of the mountain, night had long fallen on the land. As he climbed upward and upward, moonlight rose to light his way, as if Caligo herself was edging him on. Nearing the top, he stopped and turned, looking back on the path where he’d come from. In a way, the treacherous climb echoed his own journey through life. Brambles and jagged sticks had caught at him, leaving small scratches on his red coat, but it was nothing he couldn’t mend.
And the view, was worth the climb.
As he stood along the mountain peak, Metaphor raised his face to the heavens, sure that he could touch the stars from here. Caligo had blessed this place, certainly. The midnight sky is clear and calm, with only the slightest of autumn breezes to steal away his warmth and silver light beaming from every blinking star. It illuminated the simplicity of the temples, and he quietly made his way toward Caligo’s standing like shining black stardust in the shadows.
All around this place, there is a quiet hush of piety. While many had come during daylight hours to leave their tokens and prayers at the feet of the gods, very few remained now. Their murmurs raised to the heavens, but Metaphor ignored them and knelt before Caligo’s shrine with little more than a humble presence to offer. His own prayer is quietly spoken in his mind – not aloud. Caligo, we pray humbly that you protect the Night Court… for darkness has fallen upon us. Isra has been taken, leaving our world in chaos. All around us, the cries of war and justice are sounding – and I humbly pray that you watch over us, keeping us safe.
He paused for a moment, wondering if Katniss would approve of him pouring his deepest fears to a relatively strange goddess… especially one which she did not necessarily agree with. And Caligo, I ask that you bless my beloved, that you keep her safe as she marches to battle among them. Prayers given, he offers a nod to the temple, resting for a moment before beginning his descent back to the land of the living.
