[Worship] godless

[Aislinn]

SWITCH THE LIGHT OFF, WELCOME THE NIGHT WHAT’S THE PROBLEM, NOT GONNA MAKE IT RIGHT BITE THE BULLET THEN PULL THE TRIGGER HOLD TIGHT IT’S A FEELING, YOU KNOW A week had passed since her spirits had slowly begun to flutter and rise; embers of faith born from the rumors of Solterra’s inner destruction. She had heard the whisperings, the murmurs, from the shadows that gathered in the dark within her castle’s walls. Veteris was alive with secrets brimming from those shadows; theories and stories spoken with flickers of firelight. One week since their enemies to the north had been ruined from within. The once-mighty Davke — believed to be smothered to ashes by Zolin — was now slithering across the sands of Day in havoc. Their snakes breathing poison and fire and chaos in their wake.. and led by no one other than the viper queen. Avdotya. Her heart and mind were at war. When were they not? She herself had stood opposite of the Viper not days before Solterra fell. Avdotya slipped then, revealing a kernel of her power to her as her own tempest swirled in answer to her pent rage. The earth had answered the queen’s call, bending and rising and breathing at her will. Aislinn had traveled into her borders for information, and she had not left unwanting. This.. this could turn the tides and tip the precious scales of their Court’s tension at last. How long until Calligo’s kingdom — her kingdom — was no longer safe from the Davke’s wrath? The thoughts that ravaged her were fruitless; hell bent and bloody, all parched earth and the smoke of battlefields made to ruin. Her eyes had been on the stars for weeks — watching, waiting, yearning. On this night, when the moon had begun to rise, she had slipped from the open expanse of her windows. Falling like an ash-ridden star from her tower, willing the wind to catch her. And oh, how Calligo’s stars and shadows and wood smoke held her then. She had flown. Her wings had snapped open, each feather and plume tasting of salt and the brine of a sea that sang it’s lullabies to her still. She nearly cried out into the music that thrummed against the cities walls, pulsing and dancing across her skin in tantalizing fingers. Aislinn was free; no longer chained to the ground in shackles of moonstone and crimson-stained snow. She was wild and untamed, and every ounce of the storm that she would not allow to be snuffed out by a Warden’s teeth. And as she soared above the City of Starlight, she could have sworn that the star-spotted sky rolled in thunder and clouds of purplish bruises in answer to her silent cries. The stormsinger was home. She did not falter from the skies in which she swam in pearlescent stars. Only until the lonely mountain at their continent’s center rose like a stone spear towards the heavens did she slow, spiraling until her hooves graced the smooth marble of the temple’s floor. The coins wrapped around her throat are the only sound besides the beating of her heart, and the whispers of her goddess that stretch towards her from the dark like penumbra hands. Many times she has been here, alone and with company, amidst both friend and foe. But Aislinn is not ever truly alone, especially here, especially now. Her goddess has never been as close to her as she was now, as she steps into the tender heart of the citadel. The cave mouth yawns open for her, all swirling pillars and ancient stone carved from the peak of their world’s highest point. Aislinn could almost taste the stars in their closeness, brush them with phantom finger tips as they tugged at her hair. But her gaze falls on the statues that circle in a half moon, bathed in the silver of night fall. Blue orbs do not linger on the three gods of the other three kingdoms, and they do not touch the carved stone of Tempus himself. Instead, as if following a silver thread wrapped around her heart, her soul, she is drawn forevermore to the darkest of the statues gathered here. A rising form that rears in shadows and pin-pricks of opal like stars. Pearly eyes that ghost and find her, piercing the stormsinger from where she stands. Never had she felt more bare — naked and open under Calligo’s gaze. In a breath, Aislinn shears a strand of ombré locks with the tendrils of her mind. Wrapping it tightly, binding it, before she places the shining locks of ivory and ink at her goddess’ stone feet. Her crown dips, generously as lashes fall upon her cheeks, her eyes hidden in the curtain of unbound hair. "Your grace and passion and wildness has never been more welcome," she whispers, "and I am but a stormsinger who will continue to ask for your guidance in the times to come. " She hesitates, sucking in a long breath. The words tasting of ash on her tongue as she grinds out, ”There is a darkness that grows.. and it is not born of your stars and smoke but—" Cut short, Aislinn’s head whips around, an ear cocked. Hoofbeats. Soft and clicking across the steps on the mountain’s side. Clouds mar the skies, swallowing the temple in darkness as she creeps to the edges of the citadel. Hiding; ever cautious of the source of such noise. The glimmer of her eyes spark as she takes in the charcoal woman, and the shining gold held in her lips, amazed that even in the shadows, light still finds the metal here. As if brighter than any.. no. A sun. Gold that shines brighter than the Sun itself. She is only the memory of night and storms, a ghost hidden in the shadows of the curtained moon, as she watches the woman meet Solis’ statue head on. The Day Court remains your domain. Its people still look to you for light, beyond the smoke. Disgust turns her stomach, a stone falling in the empty pit as her lips crack into a soundless snarl. Her heart roars, thundering, blood and bones singing in their mutual hatred for the sun god’s people. His queen. Or is it queens? Her wings curl closer, hugging her sides. The memory of Torstein’s teeth ripping open her midnight flesh, and Maxence’s call to steal one of her own all too real. Their brutality, their lack of morals, all born from the sun drops of Solis’ disdain for his half-sister. Their immortal struggles brought to the mortal plane by the pawns that play on the check board of their divine games. Aislinn only watches as the woman’s candle is snuffed out by Calligo’s shadows. The side of her lips curls at the very thought of it. But I am no longer yours. The clouds stealing Calligo’s starlight shift; their touches of silver falling to find their stormsinger. "Strong words for a scorned queen." Aislinn melts from the darkness, slithers of shadows cradling her close as she steps into the filters of moonbeams. Sprinkles of stardust cling to her skin, her hair, but their luster does not meet her eyes. Her gaze only burns — twin flames that meet fire and ice. Gold and blue. If she had been any other queen, any other woman, from any other kingdom, Aislinn might have commented on the allure of such eyes. Their strange and mesmerizing glimmer in her goddess’ dark. But no — smoke and dust clouded her nostrils, drowning her lungs at the stench. She had heard the stories. Aislinn knew enough from their intelligence and records to recognize the woman before her. She’d be failing as Reichenbach’s Champion if she had not. Stepping forth from the shadows that dance around her, moonbeams drink in the ink of her as she circles the statues of Novus’ gods. Only when she stands curled behind Calligo’s rearing stone does she stop. Not once does her gaze break, nor blink. If anything, her brow quirks as a muscle in her lip twitches. Wary. Cautious. As she should be.. after her what her Warden had done. She curls the expanse of her wings close. "I can say I’m surprised you’d dare travel outside of your borders," she says bluntly, flatly, "but yet here you stand." Her brow furrows as stray strands of silver tangle across her eyes, unblinking blue fires that simmer with each word. "I know who you are." Questions and spilled blood and bones snapped war on the battlefield of her soul. Calligo damn her if she would ask her for her allegiance, to be their ally. How could she possibly keep Denocte safe from the viper’s reach? This woman was their enemy — her enemy — and yet, who was truly the Queen of Solterra now? The woman before her had watched as her kingdom crumbled. And Aislinn could only remember the spark of amusement that still glowed like an ember hidden in her ribs. Stars, if only she knew. RUNNING UNDER LIGHTS OFF IN THE SKY NOTHING MATTERS WHEN YOU’RE IN THE FIGHT HOLD YOUR FIRE MAYBE WE CAN MAKE IT ALL RIGHT @Seraphina <33 i’m sorry for the wait ;_; P.S. I’m so sorry for the book holy fudge muffin 1,487 words for worship thread claiming purposes! "Aislinn speech."

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