It is colder here than she has ever known it. The winds howl, their voice haunting, their breath frigid. They weave between the girl’s feathers, her hair, her petals. They sink down to her skin and she is sure the frost begins to draw across her skin.
She steps from the edge she landed upon and folds her outstretched wings tight against her side. The wind swirls about her, tugging her mane hither and pulling petals away thither. All about her the winds speak and whisper and whine. But Florentine does not listen.
Her amethyst gaze fixates upon Vespera’s altar and from the outside of the temple it appears to only be sewn together with purple-pink shadow and the birth-light of early evening stars. Rannveig was supposed to bring her here once, to help her understand the gods: who were they, what were they?
Slowly the time-traveller girl steps forward, her dagger presses cold touches against her breast. One to remember one world, a second to remember another, on and on and on the dagger presses over her heart – a rhythm where each beat was the memory of a world she had visited. There were not enough steps for all the worlds she had seen and she is in front of Vespera’s altar before she breathes again.
She had met gods before. Seen their magic, learnt the laws of their world, their place, their time. But she had never worshipped them – Florentine was too free for that, no one place had ever stayed as home for long. Novus has suddenly become so filled with anomalies. She was never supposed to stay anywhere, yet here she was, held against her will by her beloved dagger that had lost its magic. Here she was, never a girl to want to follow in her father’s footsteps and yet, just like him, Florentine has found herself inadvertently charge of a Court.
The crown felt heavy, she knew it would.
Slowly her eyes close and she listens to the wind that continues to howl and wonders how to pray. Was it a silent thing? Was it spoken? What should she say?
“I don’t know whether you exist. I mean, I haven’t met you, I have met other gods and so I know they exist. Why have you left everyone?” She pauses, suddenly wishing she had been more hesitant. Each word had been filled with too much thought, too much consideration to ever be apologetic for her lack of belief.
“I seem to be sovereign and I am sorry I am not someone who believes – is that a bad thing? I guess you would prefer someone who believes…” The flower girl trails off, watching a petals that falls like a lament from her hair. She is not sure the lament is for Vespera so much as for her and her questionable ability to pray.
“Also, I want to apologise for coming to seek you out before but being distracted by Reichenbach instead.” A soft sigh escapes her lips as her gaze lifts from where it had fallen to the foot of the Dusk altar. She was not sure prayer was for her, it seemed awkward and like hard work, yet as sovereign and a girl with no ability of time travel, maybe now was the time to start to try and let the gods in.
-open to anyone who may wish to join <3 -
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
