Initially, Corr didn't want to come down to the markets to see the memorials. She is still trying to work out the pain of losing Asterion, as well as Florentine and Lysander. The king’s disappearance hit her much harder just for the reason of her knowing him a little better. It was clear though that the loss of the three created an empty place in the heart of Terrastella that would take time to heal.
Yet here she is, wandering the streets of Denocte. It may have been her curiosity that finally led her down here as she hadn’t set foot in the lands yet. She realizes she should’ve arrived much sooner as the markets are abuzz. Although she is overwhelmed with emotions from the crowd, she is amazed at all the activity. There are merchant booths and the delicious scent of cider in the air. Even though there are memorials set up, there are games and laughter. It reminds her of how they treated vigils back in Astreas and she smiles.
Hasta wandered off to find leftover snacks along the ground while Corr went up ahead. She is a mix of emotions- there is wonder, delight, but under the surface still lies mourning. It’s been hard to kick the bout of depression away, but she’s been trying her best to stay strong. The Court needed that kind of healing instead of just another depressed being.
She purchases a cup of cider and sips it slowly as she walks. Memorials are lined up on the sides of the market streets and her eyes scan through for only one name. When she sees it, her heart catches in her throat for a minute. Even though he is not of Denocte, Corr knows he made an impact on many and so she is happy to see that Asterion has an altar here. She walks to stand in front of it and pauses to take it all in. It’s not as lavishly decorated as some of the others, but beautiful nonetheless. There are candles lit around his name and an assortment of flowers.
From the bag she brought, she takes out seashells and aquamarine stones and sets them in a small crystal grid on his altar. The pattern she creates with them reminds her of a compass mark and Corr is satisfied with her addition. If he were here, hopefully he would appreciate it.
Taking another sip of her cider, she remains in silence looking down at the memorial. "We miss you Asterion," she says in her mind, but really to his spirit, if it were able to listen. "I hope you’re safe, wherever you are."
"Speaking."
Yet here she is, wandering the streets of Denocte. It may have been her curiosity that finally led her down here as she hadn’t set foot in the lands yet. She realizes she should’ve arrived much sooner as the markets are abuzz. Although she is overwhelmed with emotions from the crowd, she is amazed at all the activity. There are merchant booths and the delicious scent of cider in the air. Even though there are memorials set up, there are games and laughter. It reminds her of how they treated vigils back in Astreas and she smiles.
Hasta wandered off to find leftover snacks along the ground while Corr went up ahead. She is a mix of emotions- there is wonder, delight, but under the surface still lies mourning. It’s been hard to kick the bout of depression away, but she’s been trying her best to stay strong. The Court needed that kind of healing instead of just another depressed being.
She purchases a cup of cider and sips it slowly as she walks. Memorials are lined up on the sides of the market streets and her eyes scan through for only one name. When she sees it, her heart catches in her throat for a minute. Even though he is not of Denocte, Corr knows he made an impact on many and so she is happy to see that Asterion has an altar here. She walks to stand in front of it and pauses to take it all in. It’s not as lavishly decorated as some of the others, but beautiful nonetheless. There are candles lit around his name and an assortment of flowers.
From the bag she brought, she takes out seashells and aquamarine stones and sets them in a small crystal grid on his altar. The pattern she creates with them reminds her of a compass mark and Corr is satisfied with her addition. If he were here, hopefully he would appreciate it.
Taking another sip of her cider, she remains in silence looking down at the memorial. "We miss you Asterion," she says in her mind, but really to his spirit, if it were able to listen. "I hope you’re safe, wherever you are."
