she was powerful not because she wasn't scared,
but because she went on strongly despite her fear.
but because she went on strongly despite her fear.
I'm the rude one, he professed so undoubtedly, but Maerys discerned nothing improper about the dark stallion. It was clear the man had an investment in others - the way they felt, the power they had, and even the devastation they could cause. In certain ways, it could be considered insanity. He knew the game as well as he did all the players, but how many hours did he spend inspecting and retaining? How much of his time was committed to simply knowing? Maerys itched to commend him on his devotedness to knowledge but held her tongue, unsure of how he would respond to her unadulterated observation. She shared a similar itch to him. Within her heart was the drive to know more, see more, experience more. How many hours had she read over books in the library? Books were expressions of a brain still connected to deep emotions, and on those pages, she would learn all she desired to. How could she not push to learn more, read more? How many strangers had she asked about the world - about monsters and politics and religion and magic? How many languages had she learned solely because they fascinated her? Mateo's passion to identify the inner workings of his world also resided in Maerys, but she utilized books, questioning those she bumped into, and the subdued quarters of the library where it appeared to her that Mateo watched everything unfold firsthand before scrutinizing it later. Conceivably he preferred the undoctored perspective of who others were and how things occurred paired with the previously documented history of what has happened, which was something Maerys could only assume (an assumption that, should it be true, she respected).
Or was she drawing too profoundly into it? Had he by opportunity faltered across the dun mare mid-training? Had he only noted her because she was the only one honing her skills on the day he happened to observe?
She could only wonder, such questions never to be spoken.
Yes - far from rude. "Thee hast flattered me, Mateo," she replied after a moment of thought. "I believe thou art far from impudent."
As the discussion proceeded, he declared the words praise Oriens heavy enough to be caught, but low enough that she queried if she was intended to hear. Faith - hers had waned to near obsoletion a long time ago, like a petal being pulled by the current into the ocean to become forgotten and abandoned, likely drowned. She remembered piercingly when she was young how others would utilize religion and worship to veil themselves as vessels of the gods like a trojan horse only to gain power, passion, or prestige. It was only when her heart unexpectedly fractured - when there was no one to come home to and she felt lost that she let faith back into her life. Praise Oriens. "Oriens is good," she volunteered, believing the words wholly as they part from her delicate lips in the same quiet tone Mateo had used.
The dark stag probed about her birthplace after he regarded her accent - one of her many tells. From the saccharine dunes of Ragnarysa to the palace walls of Arganoem, in a land very similar to Novus, Maerys had no accent, only the voice of education; the lilt of a noble. In those lands, her tongue was as prevalent as the stone used to pave dirt roads with, but here it marked her as an outsider. She resembled some of the Novus inhabitants - with equal burning eyes and svelte silver, but would never sound related. Mateo's declarations swung off of his tongue in a timbre of melodic affection, casual and inquisitive, something Maerys could imitate but never truly have. "I hail from a state very distant."
There was something so intimate about revealing anything of her past that it was complicated for her to do so. She was an innately secretive girl whose presence usually raised some questions - why was a two-year-old a warrior? What made her come to Novus, or more specifically Delumine? Where was her family? Who was she? Mateo may find Maerys as a sort of challenge. When it came down to the defined details of who she was, Maerys often failed to sate the curious beasts in those around her.
She recalled when Seraphina asked the girl about her position as a warrior. The Solterran mare had insisted she didn't realize that Delumine took warriors so juvenile and then proceeded to investigate if Maerys was an apprentice. In response, all Maerys had said was that she was not an apprentice before stating that she got the position through the old saying ask and thou shalt receive. The vague answer was not a rude one, though it left little room to ask for further questions. Maerys recognized that Mateo would presumably want to know about the girl more than Seraphina did, so she yielded to her desire to satisfy the stallion and softly stated, "'Tis a land known as Varak." The words were reluctant and cautious to tumble out of her mouth as her eyes danced to meet the emerald of Mateo's. "Mine own family," she paused momentarily, searching for the correct words before continuing. "did exist there many years." Centuries, generations, a wide network of Valdoraths and then Maerys, the last of them.
She wasn't certain if anyone had ever asked him questions in the way she desired to, but part of her suspected not. Who would ask questions to a stallion who so completely desired answers? Her curiosity and desire to dance away from the subject of the past sparked a myriad of wonder in her mind. "What about thy future?" She questioned vaguely at first, before refining the sentence in a momentary lull. "History cannot be reworked, but the tomorrow..." she smiled excitedly at the stallion. "Well, yond is all up to thee." The sentiment is bright, a rosy visual of how life works. "What doth thee want to be, Mateo? Anything at all - meager to mighty."
Feasibly it was incorrect to ask a ripened stallion what he wanted to be for there was a vast chance he already was what he wanted to be, but the inquisition was the opposite of his and she wondered anyways what his answer would be.
Or was she drawing too profoundly into it? Had he by opportunity faltered across the dun mare mid-training? Had he only noted her because she was the only one honing her skills on the day he happened to observe?
She could only wonder, such questions never to be spoken.
Yes - far from rude. "Thee hast flattered me, Mateo," she replied after a moment of thought. "I believe thou art far from impudent."
As the discussion proceeded, he declared the words praise Oriens heavy enough to be caught, but low enough that she queried if she was intended to hear. Faith - hers had waned to near obsoletion a long time ago, like a petal being pulled by the current into the ocean to become forgotten and abandoned, likely drowned. She remembered piercingly when she was young how others would utilize religion and worship to veil themselves as vessels of the gods like a trojan horse only to gain power, passion, or prestige. It was only when her heart unexpectedly fractured - when there was no one to come home to and she felt lost that she let faith back into her life. Praise Oriens. "Oriens is good," she volunteered, believing the words wholly as they part from her delicate lips in the same quiet tone Mateo had used.
The dark stag probed about her birthplace after he regarded her accent - one of her many tells. From the saccharine dunes of Ragnarysa to the palace walls of Arganoem, in a land very similar to Novus, Maerys had no accent, only the voice of education; the lilt of a noble. In those lands, her tongue was as prevalent as the stone used to pave dirt roads with, but here it marked her as an outsider. She resembled some of the Novus inhabitants - with equal burning eyes and svelte silver, but would never sound related. Mateo's declarations swung off of his tongue in a timbre of melodic affection, casual and inquisitive, something Maerys could imitate but never truly have. "I hail from a state very distant."
There was something so intimate about revealing anything of her past that it was complicated for her to do so. She was an innately secretive girl whose presence usually raised some questions - why was a two-year-old a warrior? What made her come to Novus, or more specifically Delumine? Where was her family? Who was she? Mateo may find Maerys as a sort of challenge. When it came down to the defined details of who she was, Maerys often failed to sate the curious beasts in those around her.
She recalled when Seraphina asked the girl about her position as a warrior. The Solterran mare had insisted she didn't realize that Delumine took warriors so juvenile and then proceeded to investigate if Maerys was an apprentice. In response, all Maerys had said was that she was not an apprentice before stating that she got the position through the old saying ask and thou shalt receive. The vague answer was not a rude one, though it left little room to ask for further questions. Maerys recognized that Mateo would presumably want to know about the girl more than Seraphina did, so she yielded to her desire to satisfy the stallion and softly stated, "'Tis a land known as Varak." The words were reluctant and cautious to tumble out of her mouth as her eyes danced to meet the emerald of Mateo's. "Mine own family," she paused momentarily, searching for the correct words before continuing. "did exist there many years." Centuries, generations, a wide network of Valdoraths and then Maerys, the last of them.
She wasn't certain if anyone had ever asked him questions in the way she desired to, but part of her suspected not. Who would ask questions to a stallion who so completely desired answers? Her curiosity and desire to dance away from the subject of the past sparked a myriad of wonder in her mind. "What about thy future?" She questioned vaguely at first, before refining the sentence in a momentary lull. "History cannot be reworked, but the tomorrow..." she smiled excitedly at the stallion. "Well, yond is all up to thee." The sentiment is bright, a rosy visual of how life works. "What doth thee want to be, Mateo? Anything at all - meager to mighty."
Feasibly it was incorrect to ask a ripened stallion what he wanted to be for there was a vast chance he already was what he wanted to be, but the inquisition was the opposite of his and she wondered anyways what his answer would be.
M A E R Y S
![[Image: maerys-pixel.png]](https://i.ibb.co/kM48w8r/maerys-pixel.png){kind=tracking}
x
force and magic always permitted
