[P] embers, ashes

[Antiope]

a taste of destiny you're searching for

T

he sun is bright and warm on her back, boosting Antiope’s energy without need of magic. The heat is nice, welcome even, as the light falls across her striped back. It passes through the glassless windows almost lazily, almost leisurely, and spreads across the far wall like a spotlight. She pictures Orestes’ great lion, Ariel.

The way he had sprawled upon the floor like pooling light.

Antiope presses down the hallway with sure steps, a heartbeat rhythm against the tiled floors, echoing almost longingly through the open archways. Everything here is warm, warm, warm, all the colors and the smells and the sounds. All heat and passion and aching. She can feel it all around her. The shadows are sharp and solid, not as encompassing and soft as in Denocte.

The night court Sovereign pauses outside the door that a guard had kindly told her belonged to Aghavni, wondering if the unicorn was in. The last she had seen of the verdant-eyed woman had been in the maze, in the fall, under the cover of the witching hour.

She thinks of the way her ivory hair had fallen from the pestilence mask after Aghavni had lifted it from her head.

She thinks of their walk through the tight rows of stalks, in the shadowed gloom.

Now Aghavni has stolen herself a court away, to a place of sun and sand, and bears the title Emissary. A funny thing, how their roles have both changed since the last time they had stood together. Antiope, eyes sapphire sharp and white practically gold in the light, finally raises her voice to be heard through the heavy wooden door, “Aghavni.”

"Speaking"

∞ | @Aghavni c;