 IPOMOEA lay me down in golden dandelions ‘cause i’ve been waiting
He had not been expecting an answer--not from Oriens himself, and most certainly not from a curious stranger. Ipomoea had failed to even consider the option, believing himself to be truly alone with his flowers and the god. It startled him for a moment (foolishly considering for a half beat that this feminine voice may have come from the god of knowledge), lifting his head to search all around him for the source. Of course, gods had no origins, so he had been told: the voice belonged to a girl instead. She was dressed in white and curls, a rose as red and bright as anything he'd ever seen before tucked behind one ear. And weaved also into her hair was a blue flower he recognized: it had come from his bouquet, so carefully and perfectly picked, fallen free and discarded. Was this flower why Oriens had abandoned his call? At least the flower had received new attention after he had so carelessly left it behind on the mountain trail. He was so consumed in his thoughts, in the unexpected appearance of her, that he forgot to speak for several seconds. "He is my patron, as a servant of his court." The words stumbled ineloquently out, a stutter here and an awkward pause there. It is what he was supposed to say, wasn't it? As Emissary to his court, he was indebted to the god of wisdom, to Oriens the god of knowledge and guidance. 'But I don't know him...' He was barely able to stop himself from speaking the words aloud, biting his tongue back. "I um, came to give an offering," he says instead. "But I'm not sure Oriens likes flowers as much as us." He gestured between the flowers in her hair and the bundle he had at his feet, the match undeniable. "Why do you ask?" The words are not blunt, but curious rather: she smelled of spring, with those flowers tangled up in her wild hair. He could guess that she, too, might be from the Dawn Court--but he knew even less of her than he knew of their god. @messalina! ”here am I!” |
art by eldafer
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