I have been here for nearly a full year now, in this land that is slowly becoming familiar, a comfort. Though my first several encounters when Gaia birthed me - or whatever it is that happened, I’ve still yet to determine that- were strange and sometimes unsettling, I have come to accept that this is now home. I have spent much of the passing seasons in near isolation, the winter chill melting into spring, her blooms brightening to the summer sun. But I cannot stay this way forever, and while my heart may still sit heavy in my breast with the unknowing of why I was brought here, the loneliness is what will surely kill me. The remedy to loneliness is simple, and if this is to be my home, I must become part of it and I think now I am ready to do so.
I had heard whispers through the trees that the head of the Delumine’s Dawn Court was changing, and that tonight there was a celebration for the new figure to take her place upon that seat. Though none of the names were familiar to me, knowing of this significance it seemed only fitting that I make my transition to Novus complete by attending. After all, it was an open celebration, and what better place to immerse myself in the people and become one with my new home? So I had made my way across the Viride, my unofficial haunting grounds, and across the vast river that separated me from the seat of power in Delumine. Though it has been goddess knows how many years since I had been in any sort of city- and I’ve never liked them to be clear; though my tribe has been known as traveling artisans I could never leave their walls soon enough (the temple was another matter altogether). Still, I had found the city to be full of light and laughter, a brightness that I didn’t realize I was unprepared for until it was all around me. Though it took me some time to orient myself and make my way towards the coronation, my spirits began to lift. Perhaps I had chosen the right night. My tribe has always indulged in revelry, and while the wisdom of the Sages spoke against such “indecent frivolity” I had always partaken of my love for music and dance in secret. I found no better way to speak of love than the languages that transcended all others.
As I came to view the coronation hall, I was overwhelmed by its beauty. And how close to home it really seemed. A thorn pierced my heart with an ice cold hand, squeezing hard the life from me and the breath from my lungs. I nearly faltered in my stride, but caught myself to merely a slow wander. These halls were sprawling, decorated with various creeping life at the touch of a master. I could weep at the masterpiece before me, and so I did, letting but a few silent tears fall down my cheeks as I wandered the corridors, unsure of where I was going exactly, but with no intense desire to seek out the proper dance floor. I had grown accustomed to dancing in private, and so that is what I did, moving from room to room, listening to the ghosts of music as they drifted through the space. I caught myself wishing that I had bangles around my ankles like the dancers of my tribe, as the sound of silver bells were sorely missing when I raised my limbs and wove invisible patterns along the floor. I flicked my tail in time with the rhythm of the music that drifted to me, the sound of the coins satiating my desire for now. The practiced movement began to lift my spirits once more and I let go of the hurt and with a heavy breath lost myself to the music. Without thought or care I danced, tossing my tiara and creating a cascade of blue as my veil floated around me, my decorated antlers singing praises of the melody that found its way into my heart.
For the first time since I had made my way through the void to be here, I felt as if I were home. I felt weightless, dancing the open halls, the music carrying me where it will, closer and closer to the source but not quite to the core. I felt a whisper in my ear, a divine feeling of faith, and I closed my eyes, trusting my pillars to carry me safely to whatever destination they had in mind. So I danced and moved, and with a sixth sense that I’m sure only comes from self preservation and a lifetime of dancing I managed to only barely miss the walls around me. A flick of my banner against the stone here, a toss of my head there, the whispers to move just a little left before spinning out.
Louder and louder the music became, but always just out of reach, as if I were dancing circles around the outside of the floor. This suited me fine- I could dance for myself, for my goddess until my heart was content. Then, and only then, I could join the number that were surely inside the ballroom that I so carefully wove myself around.
But listen carefully to the sound
Of your Loneliness
Of your Loneliness
« r » || @Isolt
