[P] it's an old story, really

[Antiope]

when the shadows come
and cover the horizon
i will be the one to
slay all the giants

It had been nothing but the shadow of the dragon in the distance that had called her to the place where Denocte’s shoreline goes from kissing the sea to reaching toward the sky. It is a tale as old as time, the way that she knows Isra came from the sea, is always refusing to go home to the sea.

When Antiope sees the shadow of the dragon, weaving through the clouds, her heart begins to hope before she can tell it not to with her head. Perhaps it is Isra, back from her war. Perhaps it is Fable. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.

But when she reaches the cliffs, with the seaspray dampening the air and the roar of the waves like a drumbeat in her ears, it’s not her friend she finds standing there. If it weren’t for white softly covering everything from his neck down, she might have mistaken him for Rezar, with his sun and midnight coloring. And that hurts more than anything.

Antiope presses forward, a hand resting carefully on the handle of her axe slung just behind her shoulder, and when he opens his turquoise eyes she settles her own on them, sapphire and sharp. “Lost?” They are rather far from the court. Rather far from anything.

Now that the dragon is not Fable she cannot help but wonder; what is a man with a dragon doing, lingering in the dark, on the coastline of her kingdom.

“Speaking.”

∞ | @Vercingtorix c;