Power has been cried by those stronger than me
Straight into the face that tells you to rattle your chains
If you love bein’ free
Straight into the face that tells you to rattle your chains
If you love bein’ free
Night had not yet fallen when the summons rang throughout the city. Already whispers were echoing along the evening breeze, carried along by hushed proclamations from tongues and lips far too loose from equally far too many cups of spiced ale, mead, or whiskey.
’Did you hear? Ira forfeited his challenge.’
A gasp, scandalized. ’No, I didn’t!’
’Aye, didn’t even show, I heard. Gave the throne right up, he did. That new firemage challenged him, I heard.’
A hum, contemplative and curious. ’Does that mean…’
There is talk, of course, of the Night King’s absence prior to his challenge. There is talk of promises made, ambitions set, and a resulting silence that emptied the streets of Denocte like an illness. Fatal, really, if left untreated, and while Isra had never considered herself a medic of any kind, she liked to believe that she had picked up a few things since spending more time with Luvena.
The said woman waited. Funny, she thought briefly, of how much waiting she had been doing lately.
The grand courtyard gradually filled. Israfel stood before an unlit pyre, waiting for them to come, her ivory body aglow from nearby torchlight and the dying embers of the setting sun. Solaris roosted upon her Chosen Child’s croup, glancing around those that gathered, the large, elegant Phoenix unlit for the time being. This was not the first visit Israfel had made before casting out a summons. Her first visit had been a far more personal affair, something more tender, more private, more heartfelt, within the sheltered confines of a small, humble clinic tucked in a quiet alleyway.
This was business. A personal business, of course, but business nonetheless. It tugged at her heart, and she spoke, casting her voice loudly to be heard among all of those present.
These people were no fools. They were smart, keen, and sound, these ‘misfits of Caligo’, as she had heard them called. Denocte had changed hands enough times for them all to be familiar enough with this cycle, endless as it was. Beginnings and ends, which in a way, opened doors to new beginnings.
“Thank you for coming,” she greeted politely, once the general masses had arrived and the hushed, curious, nervous whispers began to die down, “Denocte, Ira has stepped away from his crown. I challenged him, and he failed to defend his throne. To defend you.” Her words were spoken calmly, without ire, without blame or aggression or violence. Such tact was no longer her style, especially for something as tedious as this.
“My name is Israfel.” She paused, glanced about, vermilion eyes flicking across the various faces and resting on Luvena for but a breath longer before focusing up. Politics were never her thing, but Israfel had fallen in love with this Court, with these streets, with this gift of a second chance that she would do what it took to ensure its safety and survival. Would they know that? Would they understand? Or would they condemn her for challenging the right of a stagnant king and a vacant throne? “Some of you know me, some of you do not. Denocte has been quiet lately. Subdued, in a way that has never been our style.”
She grinned, then, cocksure and confident. “I have served Novus for many, many years. I will continue to do so, but for the heart of Denocte. My promise is to defend our home, this place we love, this place that offered all of us second chances. They call us the ‘court of misfits’,” the Sun Daughter paused, shrugged a slender, powerful shoulder, and chuckled. “Maybe they’re right. But this is our home, and we cannot allow this quiet, stagnant cancer to swallow our streets and quiet our songs any longer.”
Israfel paused, glanced about, and continued. “I’m sure a lot of you have questions, and I’ll answer them in what way I can… But I can’t shelter, guide, or revive the glory of Denocte without all of you. For too long, Night Court’s ranks have sat empty and barren. Should you consider yourself capable, worthy, or simply curious, speak up. Let your neighbors hear your voices.”
Solaris moved then, shifting, wings spreading before sweeping down in a powerful arc that lifted her into the air to move from Israfel’s croup to the ridge of the unlit pyre.
Israfel has called a meeting for Night Court. Welcome even to those not in Night!
