TORIELLE
It's only me who wants to wrap around your dreams
A gift from home? Torielle tilted her head slightly, watching as her friend so willingly accepted the idea. Whatever the call was, it was strong enough to cause the stardusted woman to seek it without question. The scholarly mare could not remember the last time she had done so herself. Had it been when she last walked among the astral plane? The pull that had brought her to Novus, walking through the eternal darkness into the crisp winter morning. Her arrival in this land was the closest she could recall. The joy with which her friend followed this spiritual pull, the complete trust in the path, was something the dappled mare had missed. Seeing it so plainly in her companion reminded her that the same light still lived within herself, somewhere.
They continued their ascent in companionable silence, the antlered woman eager to see what would await them at the peak. Veil’s excitement was palpable, and it was impossible not to mirror. As they came around the final corners, crested the final hills of their journey, the mortal mare suddenly understood the pull that her friend had felt.
When one set foot to any holy site, it was unmistakable. Regardless of time, or space, or intent, the spiritual essence of a place reserved for worship bent the very fabric of reality surrounding it. Take one step across the invisible boundary and even the most staunch skeptic could feel the shift within the atmosphere. Those who claimed to be more sensitive, more in tune with the cosmic, could feel the pulse from yards or even miles away. Structures that had been erected for the purpose of reverence held the aura of the gods to which they were devoted, and the energy from all those who had come before.
A small area could be made holy for a short time, provided the right conditions. That space could be made to contain the magic of the world for the briefest glimpse of time, though it would fade into the earth and the soil would be indistinguishable from what it had been before one it was gone. To create sacred ground, consecrated ground, it took the effort of ages, of thousands of souls all harmonizing. This mountain hummed with the generations of Novians who sought counsel, who made pilgrimage to commune with their gods.
Tingling like spiderwebs drifted across the mare’s coat as she approached the holy site. To say that she was awestruck would be a disservice. Though it was only just the beginning of spring, the flora thrived. Moss covered brick and woven ivy spiraled up the columns of the temple, built by equines long forgotten by any who held a mortal lifespan. To set hoof to ground was a heady experience, though it was impossible to tell if it was purely from the altitude or the strength of all the worship that came before.
Torielle watched quietly as Veil plucked feathers from her wings, laying each magnificent galaxy before stone effigies, five to represent each of the deities belonging to Novus. The reverence in which the star woman conducted herself brought the doe to weep. It had been so long since her heart had been full.
Living among the Sage’s Temple in her home she had been surrounded by similar energy at all hours of day and night. It had never occurred to the mare that she would one day no longer feel the thread of her goddess running through the fabric of her being. That aching hole that she had been avoiding these past two years was suddenly filled and it took all of her strength not to buckle at the knees.
Though Veil was still unsure of their purpose here, it did not trouble the star, and so it did not trouble the mare. It seemed the offering of feathers answered the call that the cosmic woman had been feeling. The weave of reality separated and for a single eternity the colours that danced before the two stole the dappled mare’s breath away.
Home, Veil had said, tears rolling down her cheeks. Torielle watched as the nebula that formed around her friend flowed into the jewel at her throat. They stood in silence for what could have been an age; time always seemed to be irrelevant in sacred places, and the antlered maiden found this to be no different.
The way in which the star woman spoke had taken some getting used to. She always seemed to have more knowledge, more feeling than her limited vocabulary could express. It had become almost a point of pride for Torielle to be able to understand the things that Veil had tried to impart. It had been clear through the handful of lessons they completed that the star was only lacking in the functional word, and once she had the tools to describe her thoughts and feelings, her speech would improve. The mare’s first impressions had been somewhat correct, in that the star knew how to communicate, understood the complexities of emotion, she had just not spoken in the same way as those with a mortal birth.
To hear her now speak in fully articulated sentences was jarring, but not unpleasant. The puzzling over words was an unexpected weight lifted. Veil spoke with clarity, and the wonders which she described were beautiful.
“I had thought,” Torielle whispered, the sparkle in her blue orbs searching her friend for something unknown. “When you had said you came from the stars…. I had wondered… had believed…”
As the words trailed from her lips the mare stepped forward, closing the short distance between the two women. An embarrassed chuckle bubbled up from her dappled chest as she tipped her head to avert her gaze. “I had thought you to be a goddess,” she said, her audits flicking.
“I understand now that you…” The woman looked up through the dark fringe of lashes to gaze upon Veil, her friend. “You are not just from the stars, but of them. Of the universe itself.” She shook her head.
“You need not become anything more than you are, Veil.” Like the magnetic pull that brought the star to these holy grounds, Torielle felt compelled. She extended her sooty muzzle, reaching for the rich purple of tear stained cheeks.
“Beautiful Veil,” she whispered. “My friend. You are perfect.”
art by the-day-of-shadow character by scapeh table by sunny
