“train your soul to remember where the weapon and the world divide”
Antiope stands before the moon carving like she is waiting for someone, or something. She stands, with the crowds parting around her like a river parts around a stone, eyes deep and dark as the sea. She feels like the sea inside, too, at storm. Roiling, unsettled. The lioness in her bones has been pacing for days.
She has not slept.
They say this is the place where Caligo came down and crowned Isra as the Queen of her people. Before this moon that reflects the sky above each night, and encompasses the center of the market square. They say that Caligo drops diamonds like stars when she walks, and her pelt is even more ephemeral than the heavens.
Antiope looks at the carving in the road and its glittering moonstones and feels guilt. But beneath all of that she still feels anger. It is hard to think of gods and not feel anger, and distrust. The Regent grits her teeth, eyes flashing like cut gems in the light, and turns away.
Her anger is a wretched, burning thing, that oozes through her veins like tar. So different from the things in her that bleed like ichor. The tigress moves further into the markets, almost as if against her own will, almost as if the current of equines is simply pulling her along with them. Each step feels heavier, and heavier.
When she hears Morrighan’s voice, Antiope stops and turns her head. She sees the Warden alongside a young boy at one of the merchant’s stands. Curious, she moves a little closer to see what is happening, though it is easy to assume.
Morrighan lacks none of her biting charm, and it’s clear to see the boy is intimidated by her, but the Regent is interested by seeing her in this setting—rather than simply trying to beat her in a race. As the conversation ends between the Warden and the merchant, Antiope begins walking again. “Morrighan,” she says, pushing down all the burning, raging, storming things inside her. “Walk with me?”
She indicates to the streets behind her, stepping away from the stands and into the flow of bodies again. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask you something about yourself; you mentioned that you came to Novus,” after their last interaction, out in the prairie when they were talking of immortality.
“Where did you come from? What did you do there?” Antiope is curious if her wardenship is the first position of power Morrighan has ever held. She wishes she had Isra’s eyes, to see the things in Morrighan that their Queen had seen. To see the things in herself that Isra had seen, too.
“Speaking.”
She has not slept.
They say this is the place where Caligo came down and crowned Isra as the Queen of her people. Before this moon that reflects the sky above each night, and encompasses the center of the market square. They say that Caligo drops diamonds like stars when she walks, and her pelt is even more ephemeral than the heavens.
Antiope looks at the carving in the road and its glittering moonstones and feels guilt. But beneath all of that she still feels anger. It is hard to think of gods and not feel anger, and distrust. The Regent grits her teeth, eyes flashing like cut gems in the light, and turns away.
Her anger is a wretched, burning thing, that oozes through her veins like tar. So different from the things in her that bleed like ichor. The tigress moves further into the markets, almost as if against her own will, almost as if the current of equines is simply pulling her along with them. Each step feels heavier, and heavier.
When she hears Morrighan’s voice, Antiope stops and turns her head. She sees the Warden alongside a young boy at one of the merchant’s stands. Curious, she moves a little closer to see what is happening, though it is easy to assume.
Morrighan lacks none of her biting charm, and it’s clear to see the boy is intimidated by her, but the Regent is interested by seeing her in this setting—rather than simply trying to beat her in a race. As the conversation ends between the Warden and the merchant, Antiope begins walking again. “Morrighan,” she says, pushing down all the burning, raging, storming things inside her. “Walk with me?”
She indicates to the streets behind her, stepping away from the stands and into the flow of bodies again. “I hope you don’t mind if I ask you something about yourself; you mentioned that you came to Novus,” after their last interaction, out in the prairie when they were talking of immortality.
“Where did you come from? What did you do there?” Antiope is curious if her wardenship is the first position of power Morrighan has ever held. She wishes she had Isra’s eyes, to see the things in Morrighan that their Queen had seen. To see the things in herself that Isra had seen, too.
![[Image: 13716916_Rc8f5hGvZkB3cYP.png]](https://file.toyhou.se/images/13716916_Rc8f5hGvZkB3cYP.png)
a war is calling
the tides are turned
the tides are turned
