Isra who grows rubies
“crimson flames shot out of its heart and it seemed like a great black tulip”
“crimson flames shot out of its heart and it seemed like a great black tulip”
A
beast is growing in her, seeded by each too thin body she's watching move around them. It's fertilized by her sea of fury (her sea, of course it's her sea) when she watches a child run trembling into the darkness with one glance at this black predator standing before her. Somewhere deep where she's learning to venture, Isra promises herself that if he takes one step towards all the suffering horses around them she will turn all the sand to blades and impale him upon the altar of his own home. She's promising herself so many things now. That becoming a monster is 'right' and she needs no other reason but 'justice' to help her sleep. Each night she promises herself that she can still go home, that she can go back to feeling empathy instead of hate.
And each night she's starting to believe herself a little less.
He looks like a child now, full of wonder and a sort of evil that is bred as much as it is grown. She thinks that each of those things makes him dangerous (like a wolf that doesn't know it's rabid). The magic he's asking for is wrapping around her neck like a snake and asking her to be just a little numb. Become numb, it says, so that you might survive..
Isra listens.
The smile on her face is bright and full of joy, as if each of those flowers at their hooves is blooming euphoria instead of rust. “I would love to show you more then.” Isra is still moving closer and flowers are still turning to pearls in the places where her shadow is black, black, black on the red-sand. Her voice carries with it an air of expectation, as if all the magic and wonder at her feet is nothing but the prelude to some great wonder.
It takes everything in her to keep her eyes from straying towards the starving city around her. Everything in her is screaming, run, run, run. Even Fable in the cloud over is starting to circle lower and lower. He's ready to sweep down upon the city and devour everything in his fury to spirit his unicorn home. Yet when she lifts her eyes up to meet his black gaze there is only a promise of greatness waiting to look back out at him. It shines and shines in the sunlight, surely there is nothing greater.
“If you could wish for one thing, magic made, what would it be? Tell me and I will create it for you.” Her steps and her garden circle him as she she moves to walk around him. Each bloom is brighter than the last, rust to gold and gold to silver. She's queen of that garden of wealth when she pauses and her horn is a diadem of bone on her brow.
Only when she's behind him does she let her gaze look back towards that dark capital in the distance. And when she looks back all the metal flowers at her hooves have grown roots of ruby, slick and shining like blood.
@El Rey | "speaks" | notes: <3
