and, when the friendly sunshine smil'd,
and she would mark the opening skies,
i saw no Heaven—but in her eyes
and she would mark the opening skies,
i saw no Heaven—but in her eyes
"A man," she says, glancing away from the stones to search Ipomoea's face, "and imprisonment." She assumes he can discern the rest, for knowledge of Solterra's nobility and their want and pleasure of having slaves is no secret, she's sure. Her scars no doubt tell a story, and a few years ago it was far worse than it is today. Eulalie feels no need to hide the painful horrors of her past, as much of a persistent stain as they are. What she has gone through has only made her who she is today.
To continue to love life, to thrive and to laugh and smile. That is how she shows him that despite all the things he has done to her, he has no control over her anymore.
Eulalie presses closer to the strange stones, watching as Ipomoea gently touches his muzzle to the rock. It draws her brown eyes to them, to look closer, where she sees the strange etchings in their surface that he does. She’s certain that Somnus would find them fascinating, and that he would probably spend many long nights attempting to decipher them. But she, she is reverent. The gilded woman only traces each shape with her gaze and wonders what they might have once done, coaxed by voice and magic.
When Ipomoea turns toward her, eyes bright and wide and wondering, Eulalie can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. Her eyes twinkle in the light, a small flame of mischievousness coming to life inside them. “Each one stands for something different, of course,” she says, "Beauty, love, peace. Protection.” She presses her nose to a different symbol with each word that passes her lips.
“What they say, that isn’t the important thing," her voice lowers, her lips twisting into a smirk, “It’s what you do with them that matters.” She winds her way about the stones, stopping on the inside and looking up at the top, where the three massive formations meet. “I bet that if you stood in this spot, under a full moon of course, the light would funnel down to these stones as if they were a conduit. And the runes would glow. What a sight it was, can you picture it?”
The woman glances back toward Ipomoea for a moment, to see his reaction. She can tell that even Tabbris is listening now and her smile widens. “What is it that you seek, they ask. The voices of dozens. No, hundreds. Of their ancestors, of all who have ever been. They ask, and you have to answer. But not with your voice, with your heart.”
“What is it that you truly seek?”
She closes her eyes and lifts her head to the tops of the stones and images them alive with the magic of the moon and of equines long gone and a history that has been lost to time. “Some probably asked for strength, for power, for grace. But what mattered is whether their heart was pure and their intentions true. The moon, she sees everything, she knows who you are. Your hopes, your dreams.”
Eulalie lowers her head and opens her eyes, and the sun is nearly gone beyond the place where the water meets the sky. She begins to move, leaving prints in the sand as she steps from beneath the shadow of the stone monuments. She can almost imagine the prints of hundreds of others alongside hers, as she stops before Ipomoea and smiles. “What do you think?"
To continue to love life, to thrive and to laugh and smile. That is how she shows him that despite all the things he has done to her, he has no control over her anymore.
Eulalie presses closer to the strange stones, watching as Ipomoea gently touches his muzzle to the rock. It draws her brown eyes to them, to look closer, where she sees the strange etchings in their surface that he does. She’s certain that Somnus would find them fascinating, and that he would probably spend many long nights attempting to decipher them. But she, she is reverent. The gilded woman only traces each shape with her gaze and wonders what they might have once done, coaxed by voice and magic.
When Ipomoea turns toward her, eyes bright and wide and wondering, Eulalie can’t help the smile that spreads across her face. Her eyes twinkle in the light, a small flame of mischievousness coming to life inside them. “Each one stands for something different, of course,” she says, "Beauty, love, peace. Protection.” She presses her nose to a different symbol with each word that passes her lips.
“What they say, that isn’t the important thing," her voice lowers, her lips twisting into a smirk, “It’s what you do with them that matters.” She winds her way about the stones, stopping on the inside and looking up at the top, where the three massive formations meet. “I bet that if you stood in this spot, under a full moon of course, the light would funnel down to these stones as if they were a conduit. And the runes would glow. What a sight it was, can you picture it?”
The woman glances back toward Ipomoea for a moment, to see his reaction. She can tell that even Tabbris is listening now and her smile widens. “What is it that you seek, they ask. The voices of dozens. No, hundreds. Of their ancestors, of all who have ever been. They ask, and you have to answer. But not with your voice, with your heart.”
“What is it that you truly seek?”
She closes her eyes and lifts her head to the tops of the stones and images them alive with the magic of the moon and of equines long gone and a history that has been lost to time. “Some probably asked for strength, for power, for grace. But what mattered is whether their heart was pure and their intentions true. The moon, she sees everything, she knows who you are. Your hopes, your dreams.”
Eulalie lowers her head and opens her eyes, and the sun is nearly gone beyond the place where the water meets the sky. She begins to move, leaving prints in the sand as she steps from beneath the shadow of the stone monuments. She can almost imagine the prints of hundreds of others alongside hers, as she stops before Ipomoea and smiles. “What do you think?"
@Ipomoea <3
