only one will stand at the end of it all
It comes as a genuine surprise to hear that Delumine is hosting a festival. Of course, my time in the mountains will have kept me closed off from any and all communication from the courts, and my short visit in Denocte had not yielded any such information. And a short visit it had been. I can still feel the eyes of once-familiar faces lingering on my back as I walked, attempting and failing to conceal my face fully beneath my blue scarf. They had not known what to say to their once-queen, and I had not known how to look them in the eye.
“I was only planning on traveling through Delumine, but I was not aware of any festival,” I am trying so hard to not look like a rabid animal in a cage. I am trying so hard to not look like the kind of feral thing that one needs to be afraid of. “If you won’t mind the company, I would be in your debt if you would let me travel with you, only as far as the festival.” My tongue feels heavy, and words of civility are strange and foreign. I have forgotten how to be something other than a creature of the wild.
To be truthful, I am hoping that if the other woman allows me to accompany her it will give me time to practice how to be a mortal thing again. How to keep the divinity of my magic and my otherness at bay. I am trying to remember my benevolence, and I hope that she can help. I attempt to smile, and wait; anticipation thick in my throat. The forest is attempting to swallow me, and I am struggling to stay afloat.
"Speaking."
“I was only planning on traveling through Delumine, but I was not aware of any festival,” I am trying so hard to not look like a rabid animal in a cage. I am trying so hard to not look like the kind of feral thing that one needs to be afraid of. “If you won’t mind the company, I would be in your debt if you would let me travel with you, only as far as the festival.” My tongue feels heavy, and words of civility are strange and foreign. I have forgotten how to be something other than a creature of the wild.
To be truthful, I am hoping that if the other woman allows me to accompany her it will give me time to practice how to be a mortal thing again. How to keep the divinity of my magic and my otherness at bay. I am trying to remember my benevolence, and I hope that she can help. I attempt to smile, and wait; anticipation thick in my throat. The forest is attempting to swallow me, and I am struggling to stay afloat.
a war is calling
the tides are turned
the tides are turned