[P] blackbird claw, raven wing

[Seraphina]

S E R A P H I N A

in the absence of everything
ABSTAIN FROM FEAR

--

The sound of motion – the clack of hooves against sandstone – finally drew the silver mare’s gaze from the glowing shape of Solis. Avdotya drew free of the murky darkness behind her, sinuous charcoal shape emerging from the shadows of the hall like a snake from water. (Somehow, Seraphina imagined that she would still move freer among the dunes; then again, most of the court – or those born within it, at least – seemed to share that quality. The desert afforded freedoms that the ancient sandstone walls of the fortress, weathered and heavy with duty and expectations, never would.) She shifted to face the other mare, seeking out her burning eyes with her own. A part of Seraphina wondered how the warrior woman felt in the wake of Maxence’s death, if it disconcerted Avdotya like it did her. (Perhaps, she thought for a moment, she had begun to think of the stallion as a friend…or at least an ally. She pushed those thoughts aside quickly. Even if she had, they would do her no good now.) Mourning was hardly in her nature, and it seemed to be even less in that of the venomous creature who stood before her, blunt and stark as the grave.

The Reagent wasted no time on niceties, for which the Emissary was quietly grateful. Avdotya’s voice came sharp and quick, like the crack of a whip; there was always a threat within it, she thought, but Solterra did not breed a gentle touch. The two sole choices. She imagined from the mare’s tone that she intended to take the throne herself, and, with a viable candidate in line before her, Seraphina hadn’t even considered herself in the running. Even with that knowledge, she found herself contemplating, for a moment, her own position. Could she see herself a sovereign? Seraphina was unaccustomed to seeing herself as anything – her life was void of ambition, a perpetual follower. (She wasn’t even sure if she had ever really, truly desired anything before. She wasn’t sure that she would know what desire was if she felt it.) Even so…even so, she couldn’t help but wonder at the  thought. As Avdotya turned her eyes to the throne, Seraphina followed, her eyes lingering momentarily on the empty space – then on the shape of the sun god – before they found their way back to Avdotya. Surely, Seraphina thought, she meant to ascend to sovereignty herself. Surely, she thought, surely…

The viper’s next words caught her off guard.

Avdotya, it seemed, held no ambitions for the throne; rather, she yielded it to Seraphina. She turned her gaze from the burning, violent eyes of Avdotya to find Solis again. Seraphina had never cared much for the concept of fate; in a life such as her own, it was irrelevant. However…she knew, knew that everything that happened in the untamed deserts of Solterra occurred because Solis willed it so. (Perhaps that was why she did not mourn for Maxence. Solis had collected him, and gifted him a warrior’s demise. Whatever happened after the black came creeping in, he was in the hands of her - their - gods now.) Her eyes drifted back to Avdotya, then. “Very well,” She said, simply, “I accept the crown.” She considered, for a second, how the people of Solterra would take her ascent, but she did not linger on it yet; she had other matters to consider. “Will you remain as reagent?” Privately, she hoped so, in spite of her dry, cool tones. Avdotya was efficient, pragmatic, and ruthless – she would be difficult to replace.

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@Avdotya - <3