[P] Awestruck

[Marisol]

he who wants loses everything.

Mari often forgets how lovely her city is. It is the curse of having a home, or knowing a person intimately: with each passing second, the beauty of novelty fades further, until there is nothing left but the dull and furtive reminder than you have learned too much and stayed here too long. What was once awe-inspiring—the sunsets painted in pink and gold, the rising spires of stone—has become a backdrop for things of more personal importance.

But watching this stranger take in the city, Marisol is washed back all at once to her childhood, when the buildings towered higher and the stars were not so close. She is reminded of the awe that rose in her chest when she was allowed in the citadel for the first time and the rush of adrenaline that came with her Halcyon orientation, the first scuffle on the training grounds with no weapons more than tooth and hoof. A feeling like pride warms her, then, as she wonders at her home and remembers how it felt when she was young; but it is mixed with miserable self-deprecation, for how could she have forgotten in the first place?

With a sigh she comes to a stop at Phoebe’s side. Between them, the air is warm, and Mari finds herself leaning slightly closer to the heat as her other side shivers against the cold wind. I’ve never seen anything like it, the girl says. Her eyes  flicker between Mari and the citadel rapidly, like she can’t decide quite where to look. Neither of us are going anywhere, she wants to point out, wearing half a smile, but bites her tongue. It is only the manifestation of her own jealousy. She will never know this kind of awe again.

The thought is sobering. For a moment, she can only stare into the middle distance, caught between breaths, between heartbeats. She is frozen in place—a predator crouching in grass or the prey that does not quite know how to run.

The girl’s voice snaps her out of it. She introduces herself, and the Sovereign mirrors her slight bow, responding in an easy voice, “I’m Marisol. Welcome to Terrastella.” Then she adds, when Phoebe’s questions finally peter out: “I can, but you can too. There are stairs inside. You can walk up.” Mari’s smile widens as she notes just how wide the newcomer’s eyes have become, and warmed by the sight of it, she beckons the pair toward the building together with one outstretched wing.

"Speaking."

credits