TORIELLE
It's only me who wants to wrap around your dreams
It was the flicker of movement at her periphery before the soft tones of the mare that caught her attention first. She was not expecting to see anyone else wandering the Viride, though it was well into the morning by now. The greeting met her audits and the bejeweled mare turned her head as her movements slowed so that she might take in the newcomer. She paused, breath caught in her throat, one leg half cocked mid-step as the woman continued her introduction.
Torielle had been told about the beings of Novus holding magical gifts. She had seen it firsthand when she had initially arrived here in the Viride. Then, she had mistaken Andras, the stallion who wore his lightning as a cloak across his wings, for some kind of God. He had swiftly corrected her and educated the confused woman on the nature of some of the denizens of this world. While some bore gifts that were clear to others, such as Andras, others held more secretive boons, like that of foresight or to meddle with the mind. These were often either birthright or bestowed upon individuals by the gods themselves through some trial or simply amusement, she wasn’t quite sure.
The deities of Novus were still quite foreign to her, though under other circumstances she would have leapt at the chance to learn about them. It was her homesickness and lack of connection with her own goddess that had deterred her from more than a cursory understanding. She knew that there were deities for each of the Courts representing the different phases of a passing day. She had heard their names in passing on several occasions, but mostly the information moved through her, refusing to stay. Perhaps it was her own stubbornness to not dwell that forced her attention to move along whenever someone had mentioned the gods.
While the mare was somewhat certain that the being before her was not a goddess herself, there was an unmistakable pull of something otherworldly about her. If memory served her correctly, there was a Goddess of the Night, Caligo, she thought her name was. If anywhere among the records there was tell of a daughter born from her, it would surely be this woman.
Gaia bless her, she was stunning. A swirl of galaxies far beyond the wildest imagination sculpted into the form of the humble equine. Where locks would be on any other creature flowing nebulas trailed, giving her a sense of aliveness unlike what Torielle had seen before. To her sides she had the shape of wings, the way the stars shifted and moved creating the illusion of feathers before these too trickled into nothingness. She wore such simple jewels, but it was almost unnecessary. While Torielle also wore her adornments for herself, there was also a measure of status, of her worth displayed in them. This mare before her would not need such things. Her unmatched beauty spoke volumes on its own- the jewelry she owned must have been strictly for her own pleasure. It was her eyes, though, that sucked the woman in.
The eyes are a window to the soul, and Torielle believed this to be true with every fibre of her being. One could see worlds and understand many things if only they took the time to look beyond into another’s eyes. She had gazed into many in her lifetime, but none had been so striking as those before her now. Soft pinks had always been associated with self love, of self worth and compassion. To love as equally within as one did without. Many of her tribe would adorn themselves in colours to draw the power and aspects of them, hoping to gain strength or wisdom or truth. Even Torielle, who’s veil was made of silver and blues did this- the silver being associated with the goddess, the powers of the moon, of mysticism, the blue with truth seeking, serenity, and a higher purpose within the universe. Her mother had known this when she had gifted it to her daughter before sending her to learn the wisdoms of Gaia among the sages. When Torielle gazed into the eyes of the Veil Nebula, however, she did not only see this love for herself, but the inspiration for love of self. Of curiosity and childlike wonder and passion. There was a newness to her that was pure- untainted by the trials of life like so many others. To be in her presence was like being born again. To be without fear. To be made of pure love and adoration for the world.
Torielle realized she had been holding her breath as her lungs began to burn. Slowly she lowered her raised limb back to the snowy ground. She must have looked like a startled deer, staring at the woman the way she did. Veneration was the word that came to mind, though part of her believed that she most likely came across as a madwoman. She was unsure how long she had been frozen in place, taking in the beauty of the mare. It took the woman a long moment before it registered that she had been asked a question.
”Are you well?”
It was such a simple query, and yet it brought tears to her eyes all the same. Those tears then overflowed and froze to her cheeks and dusted her lashes as she tried to blink them away before the chill could force her eyes closed. She never wanted to close them again. She had a burning need to not lose sight of this woman, the gnawing fear that she might be some illusion sent to trick her, overwhelming.
Her response caught in her throat as she struggled to find the words. Finally, the strangled sound of a chuckle left her lips and a weary smile adorned her face. “No, I suppose I am not, Veil Nebula. It has been…” she took a deep, shaky breath, moving herself so that she might face the woman more properly. “A very trying few years.” She shook her head, half to clear the last of the tears from her eyes and half to clear her mind. The bells among her antlers swayed and jingled merrily, the coins at her neck cool points that grounded her once more.
“I think, though, it’s about time things started looking up.” This time she maintained steady eye contact, her smile more genuine and warm. “I am Torielle, but you may call me by whatever you would like.” She bowed deeply, the tips of her antlers brushing the snow. If she was wrong about her assumptions that Veil was not a god, she certainly did not want to show any disrespect. She held the pose for a moment before returning to her full height.
“Would you care to walk with me?” The invitation she left open, the sincerity in her voice speaking that Veil could choose to take it or not without any consequence. Though the mare would be saddened if the woman declined, she would not hold it against her. The offer felt the right thing to do. After all, if she was a goddess, the forest was much like a cathedral, and a cathedral was a place of contemplation and worship. Torielle had always felt that she was most connected with her deity while moving, and frankly, if she stood much longer in the cold she might become frozen in more than just awe.
art by the-day-of-shadow character by scapeh table by sunny
