It was refreshing, to feel the bloom in his chest. It seemed like an age, a turn in time's hourglass, since he had last felt something like this. The exhilaration of seeing a friend once more, after a heartbeat had echoed in the absence, to know that he was capable of feeling like that again. Novus had caused his garden to grow once again, flourish one bloom at a time until there was a burst of color burning in his soul. Dusk lilies and Night roses bloomed in defiance, around and in the ruins and crumbled remains that he had burned and similarly broke in. Now there were storm iris' and ocean violets dappled in among, reaching toward the sky in the Stormsinger's presence. Here under the canopy of Vespera's heavens, they smile. They reconnect. In the glittering light of stained glass and tinted firelight, Aislinn looks every inch the Night's Daughter, down to the hue the gods had painted her in, and the moonlight they had threaded as her hair. But, the Twilight's colours suited her too, they illuminated her in a wash of pastels which brought out her beauty, her ferocity. A woman of many banners, made to dress and suit her well. Lilac eyes regarded her fondly, did Aislinn know that too? I cannot begin to tell you how good it is to see you again. "You should try, I'd love to hear you try regardless." He quipped softly, tilting his sharp face a fraction as a good natured grin appeared on his pale maw. It passed after a moment, a blossom off the branch of spring, when silence reigned in answer to his question. It's stagnation, a hesitation that he knows only too well. It's tragedy, angry bruises and tear ducts that have no more to give. Ash on the tongue and rattled bones. Isorath is many things, some good, some bad, but there is a mutual understanding here. One wounded soul reached out toward the other silently, feathering on an ethereal touch before it drew away with a nod. He knows better than to press on such things, many had tried with him once upon a turn of the moon. They had received only rage, the moon and the sun coming together in his wrath as his scales flared and hair whipping in the wind. A banshee, a dragon and something not quite holy. The shattered remains of something scattered across a cold stone floor, wet with tears and crawling with shadows. Shadows with bright gleaming eyes and a smile made to rub the skin raw. Everywhere and nowhere. "Everywhere and nowhere." He repeated with a solemn nod, lilac eyes understanding where hers are iced. They had been hard too, still were hard. Yet they fractured and fluctuated as much as the breeze did. Capricious down to his core. "I'm glad that it has not lead you too far afield. It is easy to let it." They're spoken quietly as he embraced her, all her wildness and unspoken words, wings taking it all and pulling it close as they closed around her. Such sentiment, gentleness and care, it caught him off guard. Had he truly been so closed off? Were parts of him still frozen solid, waiting to thaw? or would they be lost now? Would he have to choose which parts of himself to save and the rest to cast out? Too many questions...and now was not the time. His embrace is gone after a moment, as they settled into a leisured pace. Instead, he chooses to focus on something else as they wander everywhere and nowhere in the safety of the citadel. He didn't miss the way her eyes peered at the diadem which now rested upon him, crowning him and condemning him all at once. Isorath had been content to simply be, to drift until the time came for him to go home. The inexplicable pull in his soul all of his people had, all roads eventually lead home. A crown had sat upon his head twice, and twice he had burned for it. Now a third hung threateningly over his head, the diadem was merely a promise. A whisper of what was expected should the unexpected happen. Florentine had put her trust and faith in him, and the thought caused a painful spear to press against his ribs. No..now was not the time to focus on that. "You have. Dusk and Night are a hive of activity, Dawn and Day too are shaking off the edge of winter and finding their way." Isorath hummed, a pensive frown decorated him and a thought spared toward the moon charm glinting in the firelight. "Florentine made me her regent, and then there is this festival. To Celebrate the coming of Spring and her own crowning. It was unexpected, I think for her to be handed a crown and Rannevig to simply depart." The crown never sat easy, even to a line born to wear it, or a self-made king crowned upon the favoritism of the people. "I think she will do well, once she has found her wings." Isorath commented idly, lilac gaze seeking out stormtorn blues. "Do not feel as though you have missed too much, you are back now, and that's all that matters. You will find your feet again too." TAG: @Aislinn |
