Mephisto
dusk court spy
dusk court spy
O
ne warrior knows another, before Cyrra even speaks her homeland – for the Day Court was one filled with soldiers, but Mephisto knew little more beyond that of the solitary desert nomads who called the place home. Curiosity brims in her as she turns from the dancers, far more interested now in her present company than their show, curious to know more about Solis’ kingdom… for while Mephisto wasn’t exactly new to Novus, she hadn’t made the rounds. Aside from a festival here or there, she seldom left the comforts of Terrestella, though guilt weighs heavy as she wonders why not.“I have only heard of Solterra,” she admits with a curt smile. “Those who have ventured there tell of an endless desert, of a merciless climate. I would imagine the scenery of our court is welcome relief?” Not that each biome didn’t have it’s place… for Mephisto had come from a world of endless winter, where snow filled the fields even in the sunsoaked summer. It was a place which defied logic, cold when it should be warm, colder still during true winter. And yet, it had been home, despite its harshness and unyielding season.
“I would expect there is only some truth to that… tell me, what do you like best about Solterra?” She sips at the wine, enjoying the spiced bite to it, noting not for the first time that her people knew how to host a party well. All around, there is merriment and drunkenness, but the warg stays to the sidelines, watching and carefully imbibing to keep her wits about her. Though this was a time for celebration, there was never a time where the Pegasus would find herself complacent. It simply wasn’t in her nature to relax fully and throw caution to the wind. Particularly in a field of strangers.
“For my part, the lands of Terrestella seem to be lands of contrast – towering sea cliffs, verdant forests. From the sky, it’s a beautiful place to behold.” She imagined her winged companion would have flown here, and had likely seen its beauty for herself, but Mephisto continues the small talk. “It’s different from the land where I was before, though the magic seems the same… old and ever changing.” There is something wary in her voice, something which seems to distrust the magic of the gods. But there is also a note of respect and fear – for magic was a thing which could not be understood fully.
She stands quietly to allow the stranger to respond, her feathered wings ruffling in the autumn breeze as the piper’s song changed to a merrier tune.
@Mephisto | "speaks" | @Cyrra
