“train your soul to remember where the weapon and the world divide”
The Warden’s comment about Caligo causes Antiope to raise a brow in wondering. Perhaps the fire-born mare is not the biggest fan of their patron deity? The Regent has always kept her opinion of gods and god-things close to her heart, because she knows that here the gods and goddesses are of great value and importance to the people.
The only thing Antiope doesn’t know, is of how much value and importance they are to her.
“What do you think of Caligo?” she asks and then elaborates with a quirk of her lips, “Other than her sense of humor, or lack thereof.” She knows there is a temple in the mountains for them, not that Antiope has ever been. How could someone like her ever step inside another temple of gods? Perhaps the gods cannot see her soul. Perhaps they cannot see her hate and mistrust.
She moves quickly past the awkward moments surrounding Rezar and Chara. Past Morrighan’s uncertainty of if or how to comfort her, past her own lingering, biting remorse. There is so little there for her, and none of it will give the Warden any more insight into who she is; who she would rather become.
Antiope tries to imagine being anywhere else as Morrighan talks of her love for Denocte. But she can’t, because the ship she had boarded didn’t bring her anywhere else, it brought her here. She could have ended up anywhere in the world, but she had landed on the Novus’ shores, on the docks of a court and midnight and stars.
She’s not much for fate, even having been crafted by gods, even having killed those gods. But perhaps that ship had put her exactly where she needed to be. The Regent looks into Morrighan’s eyes and says, “Denocte is a special kind of place.”
But the comment that comes next is not one she expects, though perhaps one she should have. Antiope’s eyes drift forward, dark and sharp. “That is Isra’s vision,” and Isra has so many visions. She is a storyteller as much with her words as with her magic as with her heart. Yet, the thought of it brings her back to the moon in the marketplace and the question: how?
“Speaking.”
The only thing Antiope doesn’t know, is of how much value and importance they are to her.
“What do you think of Caligo?” she asks and then elaborates with a quirk of her lips, “Other than her sense of humor, or lack thereof.” She knows there is a temple in the mountains for them, not that Antiope has ever been. How could someone like her ever step inside another temple of gods? Perhaps the gods cannot see her soul. Perhaps they cannot see her hate and mistrust.
She moves quickly past the awkward moments surrounding Rezar and Chara. Past Morrighan’s uncertainty of if or how to comfort her, past her own lingering, biting remorse. There is so little there for her, and none of it will give the Warden any more insight into who she is; who she would rather become.
Antiope tries to imagine being anywhere else as Morrighan talks of her love for Denocte. But she can’t, because the ship she had boarded didn’t bring her anywhere else, it brought her here. She could have ended up anywhere in the world, but she had landed on the Novus’ shores, on the docks of a court and midnight and stars.
She’s not much for fate, even having been crafted by gods, even having killed those gods. But perhaps that ship had put her exactly where she needed to be. The Regent looks into Morrighan’s eyes and says, “Denocte is a special kind of place.”
But the comment that comes next is not one she expects, though perhaps one she should have. Antiope’s eyes drift forward, dark and sharp. “That is Isra’s vision,” and Isra has so many visions. She is a storyteller as much with her words as with her magic as with her heart. Yet, the thought of it brings her back to the moon in the marketplace and the question: how?
![[Image: 13716916_Rc8f5hGvZkB3cYP.png]](https://file.toyhou.se/images/13716916_Rc8f5hGvZkB3cYP.png)
a war is calling
the tides are turned
the tides are turned
