prayed to keep my soul
I
want to go,” she had told her mother. “Aeneas is supposed to be there,” she says and it sparked something in her mother. Elliana had shown such little interest in making friends that just mentioning his name had been enough to sway Elena into letting her daughter come to the party. While Elliana would deny her reasoning being to see Aeneas, she wanted to see Day Court. Had heard of the sands and the heat, burning through her veins as hot wanderlust. “Okay then.” Elena had said. Her mother had braided her hair, and placed the moonflower in her cream colored mane. “I love that flower,” Ellliana commented, watching her. “Tell you what,” her mother began, peering with blue eyes around their cottage. “I will let you wear this flower this time, and if you take good care of it then next time, I will let you wear the moonflower, okay?” She says to hear daughter, placing a forget-me-not in the blonde of her mane. It was enough of a promise to send a smile on her wildflower of a daughter’s face. They arrive at the party and her mother kept her so close to her side, as if they were stuck together by magnets. Elli looks up at her mother, blue eyes begging to let her go, to drop the chains she so often feels shackled with. “I think I see Aeneas,” she says as she starts to take a few steps away, those invisible chains clattering and clanging. Her mother is about to pull her back when she looks ahead and something changes on her face, Elliana is not sure what it is, but with some urgency she nudges her daughter’s dark shoulder. “Yes, yes go and play with him,” she says and Elliana sa-shays into the crowd, only briefly wondering what or who could have changed her mother’s mind so quickly.
It is overwhelming. The crowd. The music. Everything. Elliana goes nearly unnoticed moving in and out like the ballerina she would be if she were not an artist first. It is only when she arrives close to where they are pouring drinks that her attention is so captured. All sorts of colors our and swirl in the glasses, and a stranger quickly notices her interest. A glass is poured and Elliana watches it dance in the bottle and she wonders if this is what the fireflies look like that her mother told her about. “Thank you,” she says, watching with blue eyes. Those lips nearly touch the glass in something that looks like an innocent first kiss before it is taken away from her.
She stares at him for a moment, those too blue eyes stand out against her dark face, large and round like she is constantly amazed at the world around her. “My dad is in Denocte,” she says. “And my mom…” she stutters, looking around for the familiar golden figure. “She is wearing a flower in her hair, kind of like mine,” she says, as if that is an appropriate answer. “She said I could wear this one and if I take good care of it then I can wear hers next time.” It would seem that this is more important information to offer than her mother’s actual whereabouts.
“Why are you gold? Are you pretending to be a star?”
@Dune speaks
elliana
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