BOLEYN
They say that we are nothing more than a reflection of our collective sins. Or perhaps we’re simply a fleshy vessel between the worlds that invigor life and encourage death... When I was a child, I believed in the Gods that sang their holy hymnals from unseen ivory thrones in the sky above. But, as age emboldened me, I became that which bordered the cleft between right and wrong - an enigma to some, a prayer to others, and still the mournful bales of those yet unlucky enough to defy me. I had been wrought in the flames of confidence, forged for battle, and wasted upon the complacency of a life I’d sworn to either forget or avenge. The decision remained a wound still weeping from a heart that had been warped by the scars and tissue of past hurts. However, I had stitched and wrapped those lesions into an unwieldy resolve that could not be shaken from the inside out. Let Hell’s wrath rain down. Let the ethereal fires consume me. I had become a weapon thrust up from the bowels of the earth itself. May the destruction devour me.
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Twilight had slowly fallen over the land like a heavy blanket, quieting daytime’s hectic bustling until all that remained were the soft sounds of all the moon’s children. When worship became too much of a burden, I often looked to the wide face of the nocturnal Queen as a familiar relic in the sky between the waking hours of judgement and oversight. However, the rush of newness spread quickly from head to toe as I glanced along the horizon to find the twinkling stare of all the moon’s disciples. They looked on like sparkling sentinels of the night, their curious eyes shining against the deep auburn notes of a hide painted solely by my Mother too many lifetimes ago. If she still wandered the hills that rolled beyond sight, I could never be certain, but my promises to find her remained, even if time kept me a slave to normalcy and routine.
I had managed to find my way to Novus on a whim. If it were somehow a roll between luck or fate, I couldn’t tell, but as I wound my way through the soft valleys of the Sideralis Prairie, I found myself at ease. I had wandered enough throughout my short life to know that one simply did not voyage the world alone, but I had become wholly (and perhaps unhealthily) accustomed. I could not recall a time in which I required conversation, attention… or affection. Those notions of livelihood just didn’t fit with the way that I had been reared. Love was a foreign concept and friendship was much the same. I fought for valiancy and honor, but nothing else. Yet, I still found the near-constant tension of my existence draining as I pondered the sheer wonder of the starlight above. I’d never seen anything like it… and it was likely that this time would be one of the last.
The heat of the day had slicked my skin with moisture from the humidity and my braids hung haphazardly down both my neck and haunches. It had been some time since I’d fretted over their cleanliness and the heavy flaxen weight of them only made for a sorry picture. I was certain I walked the line between stylishly unkempt and just outright sodden. However, it seemed to be something of an afterthought when it came to bedding down for the night. At least I’d gotten a good chance to embrace my new ‘temporary’ home before having to face its inhabitants in such an unruly state. These creature comforts were eventually required after all. I was still bred with an equine nature, unfortunately, and I valued the nourishment of life enmasse. I still longed for the comforts of residing in numbers and of working within a hierarchy… even if I believed I was best made for the top of one. I could settle and I could adhere to the guidance of a creature meant to be beneath my heel if custom required. However, that didn’t mean that I was a total fan. Instead, I was simply a conformist. Surely the Night Court would value their subjects cooked, but not well-done.
As I meandered once more between the velvet valleys of night, I imagined what life would have looked like for me if I had been born here... if I had been born a child of the Night Court instead of a child of Bastion. Would my mother still be in my life or would I still find myself looking up at the same sky imagining a different future? Sometimes, I wish I didn’t even have to ask myself.
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Playlist:
And so it Begins - Klerg
Six Feet Under - Billie Eilish
Salem’s Secret - Peter Gundry
In the Woods Somewhere - Hozier
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Twilight had slowly fallen over the land like a heavy blanket, quieting daytime’s hectic bustling until all that remained were the soft sounds of all the moon’s children. When worship became too much of a burden, I often looked to the wide face of the nocturnal Queen as a familiar relic in the sky between the waking hours of judgement and oversight. However, the rush of newness spread quickly from head to toe as I glanced along the horizon to find the twinkling stare of all the moon’s disciples. They looked on like sparkling sentinels of the night, their curious eyes shining against the deep auburn notes of a hide painted solely by my Mother too many lifetimes ago. If she still wandered the hills that rolled beyond sight, I could never be certain, but my promises to find her remained, even if time kept me a slave to normalcy and routine.
I had managed to find my way to Novus on a whim. If it were somehow a roll between luck or fate, I couldn’t tell, but as I wound my way through the soft valleys of the Sideralis Prairie, I found myself at ease. I had wandered enough throughout my short life to know that one simply did not voyage the world alone, but I had become wholly (and perhaps unhealthily) accustomed. I could not recall a time in which I required conversation, attention… or affection. Those notions of livelihood just didn’t fit with the way that I had been reared. Love was a foreign concept and friendship was much the same. I fought for valiancy and honor, but nothing else. Yet, I still found the near-constant tension of my existence draining as I pondered the sheer wonder of the starlight above. I’d never seen anything like it… and it was likely that this time would be one of the last.
The heat of the day had slicked my skin with moisture from the humidity and my braids hung haphazardly down both my neck and haunches. It had been some time since I’d fretted over their cleanliness and the heavy flaxen weight of them only made for a sorry picture. I was certain I walked the line between stylishly unkempt and just outright sodden. However, it seemed to be something of an afterthought when it came to bedding down for the night. At least I’d gotten a good chance to embrace my new ‘temporary’ home before having to face its inhabitants in such an unruly state. These creature comforts were eventually required after all. I was still bred with an equine nature, unfortunately, and I valued the nourishment of life enmasse. I still longed for the comforts of residing in numbers and of working within a hierarchy… even if I believed I was best made for the top of one. I could settle and I could adhere to the guidance of a creature meant to be beneath my heel if custom required. However, that didn’t mean that I was a total fan. Instead, I was simply a conformist. Surely the Night Court would value their subjects cooked, but not well-done.
As I meandered once more between the velvet valleys of night, I imagined what life would have looked like for me if I had been born here... if I had been born a child of the Night Court instead of a child of Bastion. Would my mother still be in my life or would I still find myself looking up at the same sky imagining a different future? Sometimes, I wish I didn’t even have to ask myself.
----------
Playlist:
And so it Begins - Klerg
Six Feet Under - Billie Eilish
Salem’s Secret - Peter Gundry
In the Woods Somewhere - Hozier
Image Credits
