Alone again.
The midnight woman worked her way slowly through the citadel, accompanied only by the echoes of her solitary footsteps as the sound reverberated off of the stone walls. She had never seen such architecture before; her last two homes had been undeveloped in terms of buildings, so the foreign nature of the tower was unnatural in her eyes. There was nothing wrong with having this sort of thing here, but she was trying to take it in. No formal invitation had been extended to allow her in here. For all she knew, this area was restricted. Yet, nothing had been there to stop her in her exploration of her new home, so here she was, moving easily through the hallways, peering into different rooms, and looking upon the relics that were stored here.
Home didn’t have these. There were primitive paintings upon the prison’s walls and within the caves. They had just begun to illustrate the history of the Aurora Basin when everything had fallen apart. At home they had stories, passed between herds and outcasts alike. There were songs of praise, stories of victory, defeat, magic. Each herd had communicated with the gods at home. Each patron deity had spoken to the chosen ones. They were the elite promoted ones who provided connection between the mortals and the gods. But they didn’t have means to construct buildings or carve churches and monuments that grew from the ground like trees.
Slowly she climbed, legs taking her higher and higher within the tower. She needed to stop calling back there home. That place didn’t exist anymore. She needed to find solace knowing that this place was safe, seemingly untouched by manipulated magic and darkness. Yet, she had no purpose here. Back then, it was her job to protect. It was her duty to fight. And now? She was just some commoner, haunting the court like a ghost, remaining reclusive and distant. It had been so easy to remain hidden away in her old mountains. Here, everything was so much more open. No one had sought her out, no one had formally welcomed or even accepted her here. Was anyone allowed to just wander in? She scowled at the seeming lack of security.
Finally reaching the precipice of the tower, she found herself within a large room adorned with relics, seemingly walking through the history of, well, wherever she was. She looked at a particular piece, depicting a beautiful mare, and there was something ethereal, something careful and respectful with the way she was depicted. As she looked unknowingly upon Vespera, she finally came to rest, her nervous pacing ceasing.
She knew nothing of this place. Its history wasn’t hers, nor was this herd. How could it be, if she remained so isolated and separate?
How was she supposed to know what was worth protecting?
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
