Night creeps slowly, slowly across the sky. It is an all-consuming, inevitable fact of each new day. As sure as death, the night will come. Remnants of sand from the desert spill from his fine ashen coat. Reminders of his visit to Solterra. His once-home. Sebastien is nothing if not nostalgic. It is where he met here until she crept away from him. An inch somehow stretched into a mile. Sebastien is not worried, he knows she belongs to him. Belongs to him just like all beings eventually will. Until he joins the Ancestors. Through the streets of swirling smoke and incense, he glides. An ashen ghost drifting through the streets with an array of sights and smells. There is a steady hum of life in the Night Markets, they are no different than the markets in Solterra. Solterra. Their markets do not have the promise of Solis' touch the way that the Night Markets boast about Calligo.
Each city. Each one is alive. Abuzz with new life each day. Novus is a very interesting place in recent times. Sovereigns from three courts are now absent. Their throne sits empty while suitors throw their hats into the ring. As though their hat is little more than a cheap date and idle promises. The head of House Vogelstein has forbidden him from tossing his own hat into the ring. He is not ready. Not yet. Sebastien doesn't agree. He thinks this as he plucks a ripe plum from the vendor waving it into the street. Coins fall atop their booth as he continues on, biting into the soft flesh of the fruit. It drips and spills into the stone. Some of it splashes on his limbs, as it does the same for the strangers shifting in the night. Sebastien musters an apologetic look to the oncomers, who seem to shrug their shoulders at him with a smile.
Sebastien continues on until he spots him. He is unsure of why his fixation is drawn to the simple-looking stallion ahead of him. Perhaps it is because he reminds the charmer of Meira. Waves of his magic swirl, mingling with the scents of patchouli that are drifting out into the street. He moves. Moves towards the man with a suave smile on his lips. "Hello." He greets the stranger with warmth. It is inviting. It feels like home. "I wonder if you might be able to help me?" Sebastien asks the stranger again. He makes sure to give pause so that the man can respond. All the while he remains attentive, focused. Yes, he will come to possess this man. Someday. Someday when Meira's touch fades. He needs to fill the void.
@Tristan
Each city. Each one is alive. Abuzz with new life each day. Novus is a very interesting place in recent times. Sovereigns from three courts are now absent. Their throne sits empty while suitors throw their hats into the ring. As though their hat is little more than a cheap date and idle promises. The head of House Vogelstein has forbidden him from tossing his own hat into the ring. He is not ready. Not yet. Sebastien doesn't agree. He thinks this as he plucks a ripe plum from the vendor waving it into the street. Coins fall atop their booth as he continues on, biting into the soft flesh of the fruit. It drips and spills into the stone. Some of it splashes on his limbs, as it does the same for the strangers shifting in the night. Sebastien musters an apologetic look to the oncomers, who seem to shrug their shoulders at him with a smile.
Sebastien continues on until he spots him. He is unsure of why his fixation is drawn to the simple-looking stallion ahead of him. Perhaps it is because he reminds the charmer of Meira. Waves of his magic swirl, mingling with the scents of patchouli that are drifting out into the street. He moves. Moves towards the man with a suave smile on his lips. "Hello." He greets the stranger with warmth. It is inviting. It feels like home. "I wonder if you might be able to help me?" Sebastien asks the stranger again. He makes sure to give pause so that the man can respond. All the while he remains attentive, focused. Yes, he will come to possess this man. Someday. Someday when Meira's touch fades. He needs to fill the void.
@Tristan
