of course i feel too much
i'm a universe of exploding stars
i'm a universe of exploding stars
Brother. King.
The words are stars collapsing into nebulas upon her midnight skin — bursting into a spectacular truth that is equally memorizing and wondrous. She cannot stop her eyes from widening, watching the words explode into streamers of stardust. They cause her to turn away from the thousands of candles that glow beneath her, landing on Rhoswen instead. A shuddering but honest smile spreads across her copper lips. Aislinn had no idea, he had never — not once — mentioned that he had a sibling. Another who’s blood could possibly be as wild and untame as he. And yet, here the woman stands, and suddenly, she remembers the perfume of night jasmine and sun drops, ever present in the rose of her hair.
Why then, did Reichenbach’s sister not dwell within Calligo’s kingdom? His court?
Why was she here then, since she did not?
"I did not realize Reich had a sister," she says, regarding her. She’d be lying if a part of her was not on guard, suddenly and all at once incredibly cautious of the woman at her side. Like she, the stormsinger could only guess the secrets that hide within the red wine of her skin, the moon-silver of her eyes. Those eyes that were akin to the goddess’ stars. And for good reason.. because a part of her was Denoctian. But a part of her was not. The part that was not loyal to Calligo’s darkness is what shivers across her skin in gooseflesh.
Aislinn’s gaze is torn from Rhoswen, the woman of both the sun and moon. She focuses on the flickering bonfires and music thrumming outside the castle’s walls, whilst her muscles coil tightly beneath her skin. The Champion is wary, but still she forces the air of calm on her lips. In her lungs, despite clipped breaths. She doesn’t look at her in fear of giving herself away, her warring questions, as she says, "May I ask why you’ve returned home then? I can only guess you are a wanderer." Knowing all too well that she is not. Not when the sun has dripped it’s unholy stupor into her skin, her hair, mingling with the wood smoke of Calligo.
She inhales, long and slow. Her skin kissed by the snow that falls from the windows, steaming at the heat of her.
For she is a broiling hurricane who does not yet know what to feel.
@rhoswen here, have a confused aislinn D: ♡
"Aislinn speech."
