[P] only a star, only the sea

[Antiope]

Antiope.

“There is a place on the other side of this sea where the gods of death wander among the mortals,” Isra says and her words are like a whisper of wind upon Antiope’s skin, warm and soft. It passes over her like a shudder, like a delight and a thrill and a chill all at once. Gods who walk among mortals as death sounds all too familiar to her, only the gods that she thinks of can no longer walk among the mortals they had once controlled.

The thought eases her, if only a little. What she had done, at least means that they will never hurt anyone the way they had hurt her, again. She wonders where this place is that Isra speaks of, and what sorts of deeds these gods of death have committed against the mortals they wander among. Some part of her aches for them, and another part angers. Both are the parts of her that have lost something.

The Queen pulls away from her and Antiope’s sapphire sharp eyes turn to follow. The chill rushes in where the other woman’s warmth had been. She is cold, colder than the sea and the sky and the breeze. Let’s go home, she says, and the striped mare is not startled to find that when she thinks of home now she thinks of this place, rather than the jungle that had once claimed that title. “Yes,” she agrees, turning her back to the sea.

Yes, to home. To remembering and learning and, just maybe, letting go. If her heart can bear it, if she can bear it. “I would love to hear it,” Antiope says. Soon, they will be sitting by a fire, but only for light, only for warmth. They are already burning enough to set whole worlds ablaze, time and time again. She can’t help but think that, for all the things she has left behind, there are more important things in front of her, just waiting.

Perhaps the first step home with Isra will help her find them.

"Speaking."

credits | @Isra