f l o r e n t i n e
Wings rise and fall from where she hovers above the ground. The grasses sway and rise where her feet had stood amongst them but she makes no move to land again. Here, these scant three feet above the ground, Florentine feels more comfortable. She is protected in the air, even as the dagger turns to ice against her chest as the ebony girl points to it. Slowly, reluctantly yet determined, Flora lowers, slender limbs finding the earth with barely a whisper. She was not her normal carefree self. This was not a conversation that invited wild smiles and playful quips. No, this was religion and gods and the matter that helped their world to turn, to exist. The girl of honey and wild flowers cannot help but consider the very fibers that string the world together.
Her mind hurt and her heart wept.
It should not have been a conversation that weighed so heavily. Perhaps any other day it would not have been. But oh, her heart was still so raw at learning the loss of her dagger’s power.
“I only moved through time.” She corrects Inkheart softly, wincing and bleeding at her use of the past tense. “I did not control it because it was not mine to control. Besides, it would never have let me.” She trails off and her amethyst eyes, bright as a gems, turn to the sea. Her lashes are low, fanning her cheek, guarding herself from the confession on her tongue. She did manipulate Time, she did play its game to suit her, but only ever by its rules.
“I was no god to stop Time, or start it… To slow it down or speed it up…” She sighs softly, painfully, but finally drags her brilliant eyes from the sea and lets them sink into the black of Inkheart’s skin. “That was not the gift is gave me. As a bird flies upon the wind but cannot control it, so I was a bird travelling upon the winds of Time. It is how I have ended up here.”
The wind stirs again and carries the scent of lavender and rosemary from her flower-tangled mane. Her lungs drink the scent deep and the dusk girl wishes to wrap herself in the wild flowers forever, to bear thorns as her weapon and petals as her armour. But she cannot escape this conversation, no matter how much she wishes to hide from her disbelief.
She craves her godless land of birth but it is acknowledgement that has her eyes lifting to meet Inkheart’s. “I suppose I could consider it.” Her smile is a small little thing, only a lift at the corner of her mouth, but it is enough to convey her amused displeasure. “Where might I go to learn more about these gods?” With a humorous huff she smiles, “They wouldn’t smite a non-believer would they? Surely I cannot be the only one?” Her eyes drift out across the quiet lands, as if hoping to see a throng of nonbelievers appearing from every corner.
More relaxed, more settled, the ice of her dagger forgotten, for now, Florentine’s charcoal lips lift into a smile. She steps closer to Inkheart, enough to let a wing nudge the daylight girl, it is an invitation to educate for Florentine is so ignorant of Novus’ customs and religion. “So, tell me what you know of Vespera. It may be good to know at least a little before I seek out Terrstella’s goddess.”
@Inkheart
this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
Her mind hurt and her heart wept.
It should not have been a conversation that weighed so heavily. Perhaps any other day it would not have been. But oh, her heart was still so raw at learning the loss of her dagger’s power.
“I only moved through time.” She corrects Inkheart softly, wincing and bleeding at her use of the past tense. “I did not control it because it was not mine to control. Besides, it would never have let me.” She trails off and her amethyst eyes, bright as a gems, turn to the sea. Her lashes are low, fanning her cheek, guarding herself from the confession on her tongue. She did manipulate Time, she did play its game to suit her, but only ever by its rules.
“I was no god to stop Time, or start it… To slow it down or speed it up…” She sighs softly, painfully, but finally drags her brilliant eyes from the sea and lets them sink into the black of Inkheart’s skin. “That was not the gift is gave me. As a bird flies upon the wind but cannot control it, so I was a bird travelling upon the winds of Time. It is how I have ended up here.”
The wind stirs again and carries the scent of lavender and rosemary from her flower-tangled mane. Her lungs drink the scent deep and the dusk girl wishes to wrap herself in the wild flowers forever, to bear thorns as her weapon and petals as her armour. But she cannot escape this conversation, no matter how much she wishes to hide from her disbelief.
She craves her godless land of birth but it is acknowledgement that has her eyes lifting to meet Inkheart’s. “I suppose I could consider it.” Her smile is a small little thing, only a lift at the corner of her mouth, but it is enough to convey her amused displeasure. “Where might I go to learn more about these gods?” With a humorous huff she smiles, “They wouldn’t smite a non-believer would they? Surely I cannot be the only one?” Her eyes drift out across the quiet lands, as if hoping to see a throng of nonbelievers appearing from every corner.
More relaxed, more settled, the ice of her dagger forgotten, for now, Florentine’s charcoal lips lift into a smile. She steps closer to Inkheart, enough to let a wing nudge the daylight girl, it is an invitation to educate for Florentine is so ignorant of Novus’ customs and religion. “So, tell me what you know of Vespera. It may be good to know at least a little before I seek out Terrstella’s goddess.”
@Inkheart
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
