All is still as the girl meanders slowly through the forest. How long had it been since she was last here? She asks the leaves and the bee that bumbles past. From all she knows the answer is: too long, too long.
The Dusk queen has been called many things: a nymph, a fae, a sprite… but never has she felt much like any of them. Today, however, walking through the cathedral of trees, with flowers twined within her hair, mud and grasses pressed against her long, limbs, gilded Florentine was as if drawn from any of those myths.
Twilight clings to her skin and glitters in her amethyst eyes. Beautiful, but bruised, the girl’s gaze lingers upon the dawn light, filtering through the trees. Delumine has barely begun to stir, though the crown of the sun just crests the horizon. All is still and silent, so silent.
Florentine reaches the border of the trees, where the river glistens and runs, capturing sunlight like jewels across its surface. Here, the sigh of leaves is replaced by the lazy bubble of chattering waters.
Spring has warmed the flowing waters and, as Florentine watches them pass, she thinks of new beginnings. The coming of spring had made her a year older, and Reichenbach, her heart tougher in kind. Delumine’s dawn whispered to her of a new life, and a future mapping itself out before her. But she knows its paths are varied and rough, their destinations unknown. Her feet were already sore and her body littered with bruises from walking them. But the girl was headed somewhere new.
And so, with a sigh, she steps into the water. It rises up, up, up her body and swallows the flower girl down, down, down. She moves out, deeper and deeper into the river, until her feet leave the bed and then she sinks down until the waters swallows her whole. Only flowers and petals remain, to slowly spin and dance along the surface.
In the muffled silence of the river Florentine is cleansed. The trials of her third year of life wash away. The girl who leaves the river then, is not the same who went in. Oh this girl of water and life is clean, at last, and bears a heart whose wounds that have lost their sting.
Petals and water droplets rain down from her slim torso, washing away downstream. So consumed, is Florentine, by her thoughts of renewal and cleansing, that she misses the nest beside the water’s edge. It is full of eggs and crowned with doting parent. But all are now soaked with river water that pours from her golden skin.
The idyll of the morning – of the Dusk girl’s thoughts are shattered by an affronted, wailing quack. Tiny wings beat fiercely in the air as the soaked duck leaps from her nest. With a squawking battle cry it launches itself at its assailant.
A stubby beak snaps at Flora’s slender ankles and its wings beat, beat, beat at her limbs. They become a tangle, the flower girl and her attacker. They are feathers and gold and startled cries.
“Oh, hey! Wait! Excuse me –“ Flora chimes and blusters as she skitters and scrambles up the bank and away. Yet the persistent bird pursues her with a furious bravery that Florentine might admire, were it not directed at her.
She edges away but the bird takes chase. Its beak closes again and again upon her tail, pulling flowers and golden hair from their resting places. “Ouch! How rude! I am sorry-” The flower girl exclaims, her face a painted picture of bewilderment. But, her protests are in vain. She is scrambling and the duckis chasing.
Even as Florentine takes to the sky, the bird relentlessly follows. Its small wings beat with admirable determination as it tried to keep pace with its fleeing quarry.
After the attack, Flora might be embarrassed by the blissful wash of relief she feels at suddenly spotting a familiar flash of gold further along the river’s banks... But for now, she basks in the presence of her saviour. Wide, wide amethyst eyes, remain glued upon her friend as she swoops down to him, her duck-assailant in hot pursuit.
The girl lands, and, still soaked, still with her mane clinging to her slender neck, she steps nimbly and swiftly behind Somnus’ larger body. From around her new shield she peers at the the duck. It has landed a few feet from them, watching the girl and Delumine’s king with a decidedly disapproving glare. Eventually, disgruntled, it turns and retreats, flying elegantly and silently back to its nest.
A sigh of relief pours like wine from her lips. “Somnus.” Flora chimes, “You didn’t tell me your ducks were quite so… fierce.
@Somnus - here, have a duck and a Flora!
★ She is clothed with strength and dignity,
and she laughs without fear of the future ★
