there are nights when the wolves are silent
and only the horses howl
and only the horses howl
It was Ipomoea, who's eyes peered upwards at the sound of the silver girl's voice. The sovereign, a man who she'd met in Denocte that hadn't found his home yet, who had been so eager to hear more of Delumine's ongoings.
And she realized then that it wasn't that he hadn't found his home, it was that he wasn't at his home. Delumine, the glorious land of dawn and Oriens, had been his home all along.
He will send owls.
She nodded curtly.
And though she was already furious - more than boiling, it was Seir who pushed her past something reasonable into much more unpredictable territory.
How dare she recommend something that could be beneficial to the herd? How dare she try to solve the murders in a way that would allow no one in Delumine to remain unchecked? Was he defensive because he had done it himself? The murderer could be in this very room, why wouldn't they get an uncorrupted, unbiased, outside perspective?
He was not a god among mortals and though he spoke and moved like he knew what he was saying he had no idea.
She was not spouting ignorance, she was spouting ideas and options and a way to do more for the court. If Seir didn't like them, that was certainly alright, for everyone was entitled to disagree with each other and have their own opinions. Yet Maerys was channeling her anger into trying to aid the situation when all Seir was doing was tearing down a woman who had experienced more anguish than he knew, many of their hardships in common.
Have you ruled a kingdom?
She'd been prepped to rule one and knew the ins and outs of it. She'd seen her parents rule with an impressive ease that descended into madness. She knew what a grievous error looked like in a ruler. Maerys, though young, did not need thousands of years of life and experience like Seir did. He was of an older generation, one that bristled at the mention of change. Maerys was a part of the newer faces, a crowd of lovely minds and souls that wanted to help Delumine bloom into something wonderful
Have you ever held a dying king in your hands or witnessed children murdered for the same ignorance you are spouting?
It was too much to answer. She'd seen children whipped and skinned while still alive. She'd seen it all and so much worse. Seir was not the only mind that had witnessed trauma that could change an entire outlook or perspective. She'd seen a king slain but it had been more than that - the man had been a living, breathing soul, the man had been a king, the man... he was Maerys' father. At his side, bloody and broken on the floor had been the Queen, her mother.
And then Maerys was supposed to follow soon after.
She had seen what it looked like to not ask for help and face the consequences. There was a time many seasons ago when if Maerys had not asked for help, she would've met a similar fate as her parents.
Asking for guidance and aid wasn't a sign of weakness, but one of courage. It took courage to know the limits of your reach and effectivity, putting the ego aside, and reaching out to better a situation. Asking for aid was admitting when one did not know something and learning many new things from the help that was volunteered by those around.
And then, I am one of the Eira.
But Maerys did not care about that. Let it be known well and widely that Maerys was not a racist slob. She didn't care where he came from or what he was. The girl could acknowledge the struggle that had been many years of his life and attempt to keep history from repeating itself while simultaneously disagreeing with his opinion on the matter at hand. It was not her vs. him, it was them vs. the murderer, and she would never forget that.
"'Tis fair to disagree with me, but 'tis unacceptable to tear a comrade down" her voice was dense and thick, each word steel as it left her pretty little lips "- as if I am inferior to thee -" because, no matter how he intended for her to feel or react to his words, he had been so devastatingly demeaning to a mare that he knew nothing about "on a matter of disagreement," she concluded.
There was a pause, his condescending tone still ringing in her thoughts.
"Thee doth not know who thee speaketh with, unyionh eno." It was the tongue of the Ragnarysians, a place he certainly had never heard of. "I shall support whatever decision Ipomoea makes with full trust," she glanced at the sovereign briefly "and if 't be true whatever that gent chooses results in a war, the other courts shall lament the day they did see us as aught less than the greatest threat." Her eyes move from Seir to those standing in front, those with the power to decide. "I doth, however, wish we decide to maketh allies at which hour we clearly need them rather than boil here, ascending anger from this" she gestured to the space between Seir and herself. "To something we cannot come back from."
She was not a child.
Her words were not ignorant.
And, Seir be damned, her opinion would be heard now and it would be heard again in the future.
unyionh eno = ancient one in ragnarysian, one of the native languages of varak
And she realized then that it wasn't that he hadn't found his home, it was that he wasn't at his home. Delumine, the glorious land of dawn and Oriens, had been his home all along.
He will send owls.
She nodded curtly.
And though she was already furious - more than boiling, it was Seir who pushed her past something reasonable into much more unpredictable territory.
How dare she recommend something that could be beneficial to the herd? How dare she try to solve the murders in a way that would allow no one in Delumine to remain unchecked? Was he defensive because he had done it himself? The murderer could be in this very room, why wouldn't they get an uncorrupted, unbiased, outside perspective?
He was not a god among mortals and though he spoke and moved like he knew what he was saying he had no idea.
She was not spouting ignorance, she was spouting ideas and options and a way to do more for the court. If Seir didn't like them, that was certainly alright, for everyone was entitled to disagree with each other and have their own opinions. Yet Maerys was channeling her anger into trying to aid the situation when all Seir was doing was tearing down a woman who had experienced more anguish than he knew, many of their hardships in common.
Have you ruled a kingdom?
She'd been prepped to rule one and knew the ins and outs of it. She'd seen her parents rule with an impressive ease that descended into madness. She knew what a grievous error looked like in a ruler. Maerys, though young, did not need thousands of years of life and experience like Seir did. He was of an older generation, one that bristled at the mention of change. Maerys was a part of the newer faces, a crowd of lovely minds and souls that wanted to help Delumine bloom into something wonderful
Have you ever held a dying king in your hands or witnessed children murdered for the same ignorance you are spouting?
It was too much to answer. She'd seen children whipped and skinned while still alive. She'd seen it all and so much worse. Seir was not the only mind that had witnessed trauma that could change an entire outlook or perspective. She'd seen a king slain but it had been more than that - the man had been a living, breathing soul, the man had been a king, the man... he was Maerys' father. At his side, bloody and broken on the floor had been the Queen, her mother.
And then Maerys was supposed to follow soon after.
She had seen what it looked like to not ask for help and face the consequences. There was a time many seasons ago when if Maerys had not asked for help, she would've met a similar fate as her parents.
Asking for guidance and aid wasn't a sign of weakness, but one of courage. It took courage to know the limits of your reach and effectivity, putting the ego aside, and reaching out to better a situation. Asking for aid was admitting when one did not know something and learning many new things from the help that was volunteered by those around.
And then, I am one of the Eira.
But Maerys did not care about that. Let it be known well and widely that Maerys was not a racist slob. She didn't care where he came from or what he was. The girl could acknowledge the struggle that had been many years of his life and attempt to keep history from repeating itself while simultaneously disagreeing with his opinion on the matter at hand. It was not her vs. him, it was them vs. the murderer, and she would never forget that.
"'Tis fair to disagree with me, but 'tis unacceptable to tear a comrade down" her voice was dense and thick, each word steel as it left her pretty little lips "- as if I am inferior to thee -" because, no matter how he intended for her to feel or react to his words, he had been so devastatingly demeaning to a mare that he knew nothing about "on a matter of disagreement," she concluded.
There was a pause, his condescending tone still ringing in her thoughts.
"Thee doth not know who thee speaketh with, unyionh eno." It was the tongue of the Ragnarysians, a place he certainly had never heard of. "I shall support whatever decision Ipomoea makes with full trust," she glanced at the sovereign briefly "and if 't be true whatever that gent chooses results in a war, the other courts shall lament the day they did see us as aught less than the greatest threat." Her eyes move from Seir to those standing in front, those with the power to decide. "I doth, however, wish we decide to maketh allies at which hour we clearly need them rather than boil here, ascending anger from this" she gestured to the space between Seir and herself. "To something we cannot come back from."
She was not a child.
Her words were not ignorant.
And, Seir be damned, her opinion would be heard now and it would be heard again in the future.
unyionh eno = ancient one in ragnarysian, one of the native languages of varak
@Seir mostly and a lil @Ipomoea
![[Image: maerys-pixel.png]](https://i.ibb.co/kM48w8r/maerys-pixel.png){kind=tracking}
x
force and magic always permitted
