[P] shadows and light

[Pavetta]

p a v e t t a - - - The flames licked high into the sky, serpent tongues of fire licking and frothing, sparking; embers floated in the star-littered night like fireflies. She wandered among the throng of Night, intoxicated and entranced by the shadows cast by the light, and hypnotized by the light burning amid the shadow. What was this place? Who were these people who dwelled and danced beneath the stars? Star-people, she thought in wonder and awe. Sweet aromas she had never smelled before overwhelmed her in a dizzying haze; she wandered among the bonfires and merchant stalls as if in a dream. Would she wake up? Would she be disappointed when the dawn came, and it was time for her to return to her court of sunrises, instead of starlight? She pushed the abstract thought from her mind. Part of her belonged here, Pavetta thought, here in a crowd of beautiful moonlit strangers, and she would enjoy the Night. She stopped before a stall decorated in blue flowers and silks of every color; how her eyes glittered at the sight of such luxurious items. The vendor smiled at the gleam in her eyes and lightly settled a silken scarf the color of burgundy wine around her silver shoulders. “How lovely,” Pavetta murmured. “It suits your eyes, Noble Lady,” he purred. She laughed. “Noble Lady, I think not. Thank you for letting me try it on.” Using her weak powers of telekinesis, she removed the sash and laid it gently in a delicate twist amid his other various crafts. She wandered aimlessly, taking in every colorful sight and every interesting face. She blended with the crowd; a joyous, humming throng of mystery and moonlight. The bonfire flames danced in her eyes; rose quartz jewels alive with flame. She had never felt so intoxicated by life, had never felt so free and whimsical as she did now. Never again would she return to being a servant to a priestess or a husband. She would be Pavetta, and she would be free. Next, she stopped before a vendor with small, sparkling vials of liquids every color of the rainbow. Violet, magenta, emerald greens. The scents were sweet and delicious; musky and scandalous. The merchant glanced her over, in a practiced, precise movement. She could see his mind working, thinking. “Well, what do you think, sir? What marvelous scent would compliment me best?” She tilted her head, eyeing the quaint vials closer. “Just a hint of lavender on your throat, and you would make even the most modest of kings or queens swoon.” For effect, a small vial with a sparkling violet liquid with flecks of shimmering light inside floated before her and misted her cheeks and throat, leaving sparkling, diamond-like residue glittering on her silver skin. “Every maiden’s dream, I am sure.” She fluttered her eyelashes sarcastically and tossed her silver-rose locks, enjoying the sweet aroma that now flowed around her like an invisible ribbon. “But you have me convinced. What do I owe you, sir?" isn't it a little late, shouldn't you fly away?  little dove with cigarettes ---

@Acton