↞ Meira ↠
The streets of Delumine were empty, almost all their souls sprawled across the Illuster Meadow for the festival. Children raced with baskets between the fires and the forest in celebration of Spring. Fire too brought life in its wake, just as Spring woke the flora from its winter slumber. It is an intricate dance that brings all the world into balance. A balance that she can never have, nor does she understand. The stars twinkle into existence to join the gathering masses. They dance overhead, obscured only by the coloured plumes of smoke dissipating into the sky. At the edge of the forest the darkness begins to yawn. It creeps through the trees, the same horrible monster that it was the day before. The day before was one filled with resentment, each and every soul except for one. A winged man who was forged from the earth, but made for the sky. The other two had been enough to make her blood churn into the volatile creature that swam beneath her rippled surface. Meira often wonders if she belongs in Delumine. Their ideals seem so out of place when applied to her. She is not wise, nor delicate. She is not the epitome of neutrality. Meira is made from the sea, and so she does not know what it means to lead a quiet life.
She is as wild as the fires that roar to life across the meadow. Somewhere nearby at the edge of the forest, a bard sings the epic of the old gods. The ancient beings that came long before Solis, Oriens, Vespera, or Caligo. In a way, they represent the old ways of thinking, and these new gods that are strewn across Novus are their children. Instead of celebrations of old traditions, they celebrate ideals. She often wonders if Solis will abandon her the way she has abandoned his court. Meira frowns at the thought, for though she respects Oriens, he is not her god. Solis loved her with all the wrath and passion that only a man built for war could. Yet, she felt a kinship with Caligo for the way her moon sang lullabies to the tides. It was a push and pull between the two of them. Meira flicks her ears backward as she moves into the forest. She moves until the darkness swallows her up, and the swell of voices is reduced to a gentle hum. The salty scent of the sea leaves its traces in the trees, she can smell it here. Just as she can hear the wind gently blowing the grasses at the base of the trunks as it weaves through the towering figures. Meira is reluctant to admit she is alone here. Delumine is not the home she would have chosen, but she could not go back.
There was always only one way to go in life, and that was forward. No longer could she run back to him. Gone were the comforts of her childhood, she had shed those robes long ago. The forest was as quiet as the sea, or at least it made her soul quiet. It writhed and gnawed on every fiber it could wrap its greedy lips around. Out here, away from all the gathering masses of mages and men, she could just be quiet. The darkness was her only solace, it concealed what she had left behind. Only it knew of her turbulent past. Only it knew that she planned to join the Roannes and bring their proud heritage to Delumine. A revival for her family was upon her, for she could not go back. It was much like time, in the way that it only shifted forward unless it was dragged backward by the mages. Meira sighs as she closes her eyes, surrounded by the darkness of the forest. It is sweeping closer and closer to the edge of the meadow. She can still hear the bard from here, but all the other sounds of the festival have grown quiet. Meira is alone. Truly alone.
She is her own entity, free of the chains that bound her. Ivory limbs swivel her bodice back in the direction she had come from. Her eyes pop open, in the distance she can see the glimmer of the bonfires that lie in stark contrast to the darkening sky. The Roanne woman hovers at the edge of the forest, peering out at the bonfires, listening to the idle epic spun by the bard.
@Alecto
I know this is super rambly. It won't be like this the whole time ;afjd. She's just staring at the bonfires from the edge of the forest near the bard. Just.. using the shadows as a cloak lool
She is as wild as the fires that roar to life across the meadow. Somewhere nearby at the edge of the forest, a bard sings the epic of the old gods. The ancient beings that came long before Solis, Oriens, Vespera, or Caligo. In a way, they represent the old ways of thinking, and these new gods that are strewn across Novus are their children. Instead of celebrations of old traditions, they celebrate ideals. She often wonders if Solis will abandon her the way she has abandoned his court. Meira frowns at the thought, for though she respects Oriens, he is not her god. Solis loved her with all the wrath and passion that only a man built for war could. Yet, she felt a kinship with Caligo for the way her moon sang lullabies to the tides. It was a push and pull between the two of them. Meira flicks her ears backward as she moves into the forest. She moves until the darkness swallows her up, and the swell of voices is reduced to a gentle hum. The salty scent of the sea leaves its traces in the trees, she can smell it here. Just as she can hear the wind gently blowing the grasses at the base of the trunks as it weaves through the towering figures. Meira is reluctant to admit she is alone here. Delumine is not the home she would have chosen, but she could not go back.
There was always only one way to go in life, and that was forward. No longer could she run back to him. Gone were the comforts of her childhood, she had shed those robes long ago. The forest was as quiet as the sea, or at least it made her soul quiet. It writhed and gnawed on every fiber it could wrap its greedy lips around. Out here, away from all the gathering masses of mages and men, she could just be quiet. The darkness was her only solace, it concealed what she had left behind. Only it knew of her turbulent past. Only it knew that she planned to join the Roannes and bring their proud heritage to Delumine. A revival for her family was upon her, for she could not go back. It was much like time, in the way that it only shifted forward unless it was dragged backward by the mages. Meira sighs as she closes her eyes, surrounded by the darkness of the forest. It is sweeping closer and closer to the edge of the meadow. She can still hear the bard from here, but all the other sounds of the festival have grown quiet. Meira is alone. Truly alone.
She is her own entity, free of the chains that bound her. Ivory limbs swivel her bodice back in the direction she had come from. Her eyes pop open, in the distance she can see the glimmer of the bonfires that lie in stark contrast to the darkening sky. The Roanne woman hovers at the edge of the forest, peering out at the bonfires, listening to the idle epic spun by the bard.
@Alecto
I know this is super rambly. It won't be like this the whole time ;afjd. She's just staring at the bonfires from the edge of the forest near the bard. Just.. using the shadows as a cloak lool
