MY QUEENS IS A QUEEN
NOT TALKING BRIGHT LIGHTS AND SHINY THINGS
BUT WE ALWAYS MADE IT WORK
BUILDING CASTLES OUT OF DIRT
Some would say she returns too soon; but then again, who could keep Calligo’s stormsinger from the Steppe from which is was born to love? To burn for? To be ruined upon it’s bleak massacres of spilled blood and torn knuckles and lives lost? No.. no one could keep her away. Not even the memories of the Solterran’s voice could haunt her now. Too long have they been riddled within her dreams, her heartbeats, her steps, like a demon leeching her sanity through the long days that she had spent healing. Waiting. Mustering every ounce of strength as the earth began anew with life in riots of color and the thick of spring flowers.
And now, she returns to the Steppe but with a single purpose. To rid herself of her past pain, and to begin again. Just like the flowers that blossom all around her.
She was a whisper of nightfall as dawn murmured on the horizon in yawning glitters of color. "It’s good to see you again, hero," she croons, utterly unable to hide the curl of her copper-kissed lips. She blinks against the light of new day, gaze landing upon the familiar face that stands opposite of her. Once before, they had met here, and now once again, their fates have been intertwined. Blue blossoms flutter and wisp around her, crystalline in the sunbeams that crest over the trees that line the boundaries of their battlefield. There is a magic that burns in her blood and down into the marrow of her bones. It is not the storm that swirls within her, ever present, but something ethereal and precious in the mere moments the sun has begun to rise.
Aislinn’s neck cracks as her crown tilts; muscles coiling in anticipation under the dark of her skin. The stormsinger eyes her opponent — the Warden of Dawn, the Dawn King’s glaive. The fires of her gaze flares with the crackle of lightning that sizzles down the length of her spine. "You owe me after last time."
The curl of her lip lifts, knowing, as she waits.
MY HOME IS A THRONE
NOT VERY PRETTY, BUT TOUGH AS STONE
AND WE ALWAYS MADE IT WORK
NO MATTER HOW MUCH IT DID HURT
@
Ulric I’m so so excited oml
"Aislinn speech."
