"In the heart of the hollow
where the dark pools are;”
where the dark pools are;”
Isra smiles, the temple no longer feels strange. It feels like fate.
“No pardons needed.” There is a touch of laughter on her voice, a whisper of all the things she misses feeling. Tonight she doesn't feel like a queen, only like a unicorn full of magic (a little wild, a little free). When she walks closer the marble turns to sapphire in small half-moons in the places where she stepped. Each bit of stone looks like a piece of the night sky fallen to earth.
She's not wondering what this temple was for anymore.
It was made for this, for strangers meeting in the night, for apologies and strangeness. This temple was made for living, not for worshiping. The lesson is one she hadn't realized she had forgotten.
Isra tilts her head at him, tracing the curl of his horns and the shine of silver on him that reminds her of a constellation trapped in a cloud. “Fable might look like he's protecting me but really he's mostly watching the stars above the distant sea.” Her gaze looks at the small dragon who is with him and something in her heart aches at the thought that Fable would never been able to join her in this temple made for living. Dragons belong in the sky and unicorns belong to the earth.
Her breath is still curling from her nose like smoke when she reaches towards him in a greeting. Moonlight catches and snags like a silver net on her horn. “I'm Isra.” Tonight she decides to become Isra the traveler in the night.
Isra wants to be just another unicorn hiding in the snow pretending it's innocence and not fury blooming in her heart.
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