MINYA
take that look from off your face
you ain't gunna burn my heart out
you ain't gunna burn my heart out
Her smile is wicked wild as smoke peels from her tongue like a dragon. It unfurls reaching for the sky like a black specter. Fire swells along her flank bright and fierce. It rises like a serpent around her limbs as she dances, climbing up from metal jewelry that winds like a serpent around her limbs. “Serpents.” Amun said as he gave her the gilt twisted armlets by the light of the camp fire. “Just like you.” He had quipped with a dangerous smirk.
Now she wore them boldly, ever ready to be the serpent everyone said she was. Fine chains hand like spidersilk between her antlers each link a reminder for every time they have called her a spider, a widow.
She smiles like a goddess as she swallows the flames, as she breathes them brighter than Denocte’s dragons into the air. The tattoo, high, high up on the inside of her thigh blinks bone white as she dances through smoke and flame.
Bells chime and jewels glitter and feathers drift whimsically as she dances. She has perfected seduction, she is the magician of illusion – though no magic sings in her blood and how fiercely proud that makes her! She smiles like a drug. She smiles like a knife. Never has she carried a blade, her weapon is her body and fighting is for barbarians.
Her dance ends and the crowd circling her erupts. Salt is thrown upon the bonfires that flare and hiss and flames leap into the skies. All the markets are wild this night as the summer solstice prowls like a lion through the wild markets.
Laughter pours like champagne from her lips, it purrs leonine as she stalks silver cold, ember bright out from the middle of the circle. No trinkets are left this night and Minya does not expect them. For this is not a Scarab night, this is a night for travelling performers, for gypsies and pilgrims. Her nerves are alight, memories flooding this girl who once was content to be a travelling girl, who performed on the Denocte streets and in the dust bowl of Solterra. Until she remembered, until she remembered she was a noble’s daughter and jewels and money meant everything. Until she remembered her poisoned mother lying dead from a nobles greed. Then she returned to money and glory. There she hated herself, there she could not look in the mirror at the girl of lavish luxury and remember her mother who died.
So this night is special. So this night is one to forget the Scarab and the betrayals and the knives and the court games. Here she laughs with liquor on her lips and plucks honey cakes from vendors stalls and pays them in diamond necklaces. Her she – collides with a creature of gold, her honey cake knocked from her grasp and falling into the dust.
“Careful.” She hisses to the stranger and the serpents climbing her limbs gleam wickedly in the firelight. Incense and smoke plume from her skin as her ears crumble into the pink silk of her mane.
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| "speaks" | notes: eee <3
