[AW] Audaces fortuna iuvat

[Seraphina]

A CHOIR OF FURIES IN MY HEAD

The sun is beginning to creep below the horizon when Seraphina finally leaves the palace walls, escaping, at least for a short while, the venom and thinly-veiled violence of Solterran politics. Although much of the populace has seen her in the past, she is nondescript amongst the swell of bodies and faces that swarm the sandstone streets, lost to the crowd. For a moment, she can relish her own namelessness, relinquish the crown that she must sometimes remind herself that she chose - for a moment, her responsibilities can become separate from her body, and she can be little more than another passer-by, a slip of unimportant silver caught against dull, red-orange buildings and far more interesting faces.

She meanders through the marketplace by candlelight, taking careful account of the sea of unfamiliar faces swirling around her; Solterra is a court of snakes, and she’s learned the hard way that each strategic ripple of fabric could hide a knife. She slips through the crowd blissfully unnoticed, at least by anyone who would remark on her presence. Even as she becomes more adjusted to the ebb and flow of court life, Seraphina cannot shake the feeling that she exists as an outsider – she fits awkwardly into the position that is now her own, as though it was never quite made for someone with her particular qualifications. This, however, this is comfortable. This brings back memories of when she was someone else, something else, memories of a time before she had the weight of a people on her back – memories before she became accountable for the sins of an entire nation. She wonders, sometimes, if it wouldn’t have been better for Solterra if she had never become emissary, much less queen, but those insecurities are always put to rest with the reminder that there is no changing what has already been done.

She turns down an alleyway, and her eyes come to rest on a tall, muscular mare; she decides, immediately, that she must be a warrior – exceptionally powerful much of a hint of bulk. She has the physique of one, at least, and a massive set of wings and a brutal set of antlers. As the candlelight dances off her frame, Seraphina catches the hint of metallic hues caught in her dappled coat. She watches her, for a moment, taking account of her movements, and decides that she does not seem to know where she is or where she is going. With that, she approaches, allowing the clatter of her hooves against the sandstone to announce her arrival.

The silver doesn’t smile, but she does offer a polite dip of her head. “You look to be lost.” Her voice is deep and gravelly, and her lilting accent marks her native blood. Seraphina has lived long enough in the winding streets of the capitol to know a newcomer when she sees one – the wondering gazes tended to give it away. (This one, somehow, put her in mind of Eik. She thinks that they both seemed similarly struck by the overwhelming expanse of the capitol, and she wonders if this mare, too, is from a land without such structure.) She’s quick to add, “Perhaps I might be of some assistance.” Now that she is Queen, Seraphina spends considerably less time guiding lost travelers around Solterra, but, although it is no longer technically a part of her duty, she likes to keep an eye on new faces.


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tags | @eksander
notes | <3

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