FIRE-LIT, HALF SILHOUETTE AND HALF MYTH, THE WOLF CIRCLES MY PAST, TREADING THE LEAVES INTO A BED TILL HE SLEEPS, BLACK SNOUT ON EXTENDED PAWS. BLACK SNOUT ON SULPHUR BODY, HE NUDGED HIS WAY INTO MY CONSCIOUSNESS. THERE IS NOTHING THAT WON'T BE LIT UP IN THE DARK TORCH OF HIS EYES.
Solterra is not so difficult a place to visit. It is her comment, her tiger-like expression, that makes Orestes believes the rumours about her, that she is only a step from godhood. He smiles a small knowing sort of smile; a smile pinched and interested, gone within a hairsbreadth of existing. Her eyes trace his tattoos, the ones on his face, and he cannot help but say:
“They’re magical scars.” It is the first time he has made the confession aloud to a resident of Novus; and it comes with a sort of self-deprecation, lighthearted and yet utterly abysmal. He cannot help but think they do not look so different, she and he. If she is a tigress with red tattoos than he is a lion across from her—he prepares to say more, but her eyes begin to fill with a gold as bright as Ariel’s.
Orestes stares curiously; there is a tug within him, strange but not unalike the powerful connection he shares with the midday sun, a type of threading, a type of strengthening. He closes his eyes in a bizarre display of trust and drinks the energy she shares; then his eyes open and he smiles, a genuine smile.
Already Orestes’s markings grow brighter, stronger.
Ariel snorts, a catlike display of derision. Yet the lion cannot help but be impressed.
“I must say, Lady Antiope, I am feeling much better since your arrival. I would be more than willing to show you my Court.” Orestes gives a charming, roguish smile and steps passed the weary guard, nearly into the other Sovereign. But the gesture is unthreatening; if anything, it is the opposite. He opens his side and gestures with his chin toward the corridor that stretches away from the entrance of the citadel. It is a short walk to a much smaller door, although still ornate; Orestes opens it with a flourish and gestures Antiope through, before following her into the daylight outside.
They have exited the citadel not through the main entrance, but a smaller side-door that leads through a small garden. The sandstone wall beside it is too high to see over and, from the outside, looks like the rest of the citadel. They pass a fountain that chimes with a noise brighter than laughter; and then past desert foliage Orestes unlocks a cast-iron gate and suddenly, abruptly, they enter the sandstone city.
Beneath Solis, Solterra is always lit like bullion bricks. Orestes glances sidelong. “Honestly, the garden is one of the better aspects of the city. We have been making repairs since Raum and have seen a significant amount of progress.” The streets are active with a foray of life; children and shop-owners; merchants from abroad and other Courts; and of course the soldiers, standing watch at their numerous posts, walking along the battlements above. Orestes takes no particular direction; instead he appears almost aimless, pointing out statues, buildings, or objects of note as they go.
At last, however, Orestes begins to delve into more substantial conversations. “And if I may be so bold Lady Antiope, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? If it is for pleasure’s sake, consider me appreciative. But we Sovereigns rarely have time for pleasure.” He smiles again; perhaps it is foolish of him, but Orestes finds he enjoys her company. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact she offered him energy; perhaps because she reminds him of magic that, with his fading memories, seems difficult to believe in.
@Antiope || “speech”
"THE WOLVES HAVE
BEEN SLAUGHTERED
NOW, A HEDGE OF
SMOKING GUN BARRELS
RINGS MY DAUGHTERS
DREAMS"
BEEN SLAUGHTERED
NOW, A HEDGE OF
SMOKING GUN BARRELS
RINGS MY DAUGHTERS
DREAMS"
