[AW] >> soul of sand <<

[Seraphina]

Recent events had left Seraphina’s head swirling.


She lay in a crumpled heap in the library, glossy, mismatched eyes scanning rows and rows of words scrawled neatly on a thin, ancient scroll; the last rays of sun cast through the thin paper, flickering red-gold against her silver skin. The scroll bobbed and weaved with her thoughts, ebbing and flowing as her concentration fluttered in and out of focus. Even though she read the words, they hardly registered. She had been pouring over the documents for hours, trying to absorb every little detail like a good Emissary, but she felt as though most of them had gone straight over her head. The Teryr fight, the change in leadership, her new position…she’d focused on healing her wounds. Most of them had healed up, leaving behind silvery scars that grew fainter with each passing day, though the gash on her forehead was still flushed a soft pink. It didn’t hurt to move, though, and she told herself that was what truly mattered – an incapacitated, sore horse was little more than a liability in the deserts of Solterra.


It was almost a relief when the sun began to set. She supposed that she could light a candle and continue staring at the papers for a few more hours, but, in all honesty, she needed a break. Seraphina was accustomed to wandering the deserts for hours on end in search of trespassers or threats, but paperwork was something else entirely. Stumbling to a stand, stiff from hours spent lying down, she moved awkwardly down the corridors that were now her home, moving out to the ramparts in search of fresh air – or as much as she could find in the Mors – and unconfined space.


The moment that she passed the doorways, her eyes found the shape of a familiar, ink-black mare. Inkheart was still injured, but she seemed to have healed since Seraphina had last laid eyes on her. She was unsure of how to regard her – she found the mare to be rather bigoted and self-righteous, though she couldn’t fault her devotion, and she knew that she held some sort of venom towards her. (“She thinks you’re a dog, Seraphina. They all do.”) She hadn’t bothered to examine the mare enough to understand why, and it wouldn’t have concerned her, had she not been arguably the closest champion to her own position – it was, after all, part of Seraphina’s new job to make sure that Maxence’s laws and decisions aligned with the will of Solis. With that in mind, she took a step towards her gingerly, offering a curt nod of her head. “Inkheart. It seems that your wounds have been healing well.” She cast her gaze to the horizon, though her ears remained tilted towards the other mare. “How are you settling into your new position?” Though she asked as more of a courtesy than anything, Seraphina was genuinely curious about Inkheart’s ambitions – it seemed that they would be working together frequently, one could assume.


@Inkheart <3