[AW] she was waiting for a sword

[Maerys]

of dawn court MAERYS   By dawn's early light Maerys arrived, the sun opening up like a perennial on the skyline, rising to grant those petals of auburn to heat the forest - blade, limb, and root. The heavens were a symphony of light morphing from an onyx atmosphere as if twilight and daylight had matured into one lovely moment. This impressive spectacle came with a silvery hush- dawn had arrived. Greystone rose from the land, unapologetic and bold to defy entrance and protect what lived in the halls of the ancient construction. These castle walls seemed impenetrable, bastions of protection and glory as they had been for eons. At the base of the intricate palace, below the thick layer of snow and frost, are arrowheads and hilts of broken swords and armor that had been used well. The snow-ridden forest enveloping the lands next to the edifice has seen centuries whisk past on the winds of each season and beheld the folly of Dawn Court's struggles.  Maerys' gaze caught sight of the river in the distance, appearing still, yet flowing under the thinnest of ice, awaiting the gentle touch of the sun. Though the air bared only the coldness of winter and the ground was frozen once more, the ice glittered with the swell each nascent ray.  As the wintry confetti descended from the heaven, dotting Maerys' spine like powdered sugar, the realization that this was home for the mare now set in. With a steady stride, Maerys travels towards the entrance, her mauve centers pitching to and fro hunting for other inhabitants. If this was to be her people those to depend on and esteem- she'd savor engaging with them as speedily as possible. IT WASN'T ABOUT PRAYING TO THE GOD YOU BELIEVE IN IT WAS SOLELY ABOUT BELIEVING IN YOURSELF

[Regis]

look at the stars
look how they shine for you

More often than not, Regis’ mornings consisted of breakfast, conversation with his parents and anyone else he saw along the way, followed shortly by a few lessons taught to him namely by Somnus or Eulalie, but there were also times he would approach his uncles Ipomoea and Ulric, as well as the sages like Mateo. He was content to stand and listen to any and all lessons he came across, absorbing what he could and asking questions when he didn’t understand. Still so young, Regis had already come to value the weight and power of knowledge and sought it from his elders.

On this day, however, Regis had no such lessons lined up to fill his day with. It was all his to do as he pleased, within reason of course, but even as he exited the citadel and looked out across the snowy landscape surrounding his home, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do. Perhaps, he could find a small hill just a little ways off, out of sight of anyone else and practice his flight skills? Putting it politely, they were still lackluster, far from the skill and grace which would someday be expected of him. The snow would offer a softer landing (or so he imagined), and Milo would be there if anything were to go awry. It seemed as good a plan as any, and so with a promise to return in time for lunch, the yearling went in search of the perfect location, Milo ever faithfully at his side.

But as he rounded the corner that would lead him out of the citadel proper and release him out into the open, where the frigid wind immediately blew into his side and made him shiver, Regis’ attention was stolen away by the form of somebody he did not know. She was much taller than he and certainly more mature, but the Prince couldn’t help but notice the similarities between their looks. A pleasant smile tugged at his dark lips as he drew to a halt and turned to face her more squarely, dual-toned eyes bright and practically dancing against the morning sunlight. Milo, too, came to rest at his feet, looking curiously up at the stranger.

“Hello,” he started easily enough, calling on all the times he’d heard his father welcome somebody new into Delumine as well as his plentiful lessons on speech. Regis still wasn’t perfect, far from it in fact, but he was worlds better than just a few months prior. “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it? Are you new to Delumine? My name is Regis, and this here is Milo.”

"Speaking."

@Maerys Welcome to Novus and Delumine! <3 Your girl is gorgeous!

credits

[Maerys]

of dawn court MAERYS   The child that marched forth was scanty, the union of youth and stature to create... meager. His knees were large as if waiting for his body to mature and develop into them, though Maerys innocently questioned if that would ever happen. Perhaps it was the awkward bulge of his moderately stunted body or the general shortness of his stature that made her believe he wasn't ever going to look conformationally correct. Regardless of what his build looked like, the lad was impressively lovable. His cinnamon and cedar complexion complimented the duality of his optics and the chrome marking blanketing a substantial share of his profile and fetlocks. At his side was a russet fox- a myriad of crimson, onyx, and cream. When the child spoke it was fluid and even unlike what the mare awaited. It was conceivable that she underestimated his age by a few months as she had fully expected a toddler-lisp and broken diction. He was clearly no baby after all- his chops were most likely not all gum and his snout wasn't stained with milk residue nor snot. His debut is uncomplicated as it is merely a salutation followed by inquisition and ending with the contribution of his title and his fox's. "Yes, 'tis most lovely this morrow," she offers after only a brief pause. Her voice is sweet and gentle, honeyed in tone and hushed in volume. "Ah, I am new- a stranger at meetest." Her mauve eyes swing briefly to the fox before once more settling on the boy. She was certain he'd know her to be foreign, her pronunciation different than his in numerous ways. Be it the even, unemphasized words or the steady rhythm the syllables fell from her velvet lips, the tone Maerys took contrasted greatly with the boy's own speech pattern. "I am Maerys, a soldier here."  It was unusual to the girl that she would face such a young fellow alone so early in the morn. Her wonder bubbled as she considered what he could be doing. Though she knew little (essentially nothing) of these lands, she assumed it was hazardous to roam alone at unearthly hours with only a fox as protection.  "Say to me, little one, why are thou alone?" Her question is inoffensive, a softly vocalized inquiry solely charged out of interest. "There are many hours in one day, why venture so early?" The question hangs unthreateningly in the air as she awaits an answer. @Regis IT WASN'T ABOUT PRAYING TO THE GOD YOU BELIEVE IN IT WAS SOLELY ABOUT BELIEVING IN YOURSELF

[Regis]

look at the stars
look how they shine for you

There was a subtle inclination of his head as he looked on with curious eyes of blue and green, tulip ears attentive as he listened. It was clear by the annunciation of her words that she wasn’t from around here, but if that were the case, then where was she from? The way she articulated her words was foreign to his young ears, but he understood her just as well as anyone else. Her tone itself was gentle and offered no threat to him, and Regis stood comfortably before this stranger who dubbed herself Maerys – a name he tried out a few times in his head before daring to attempt saying it out loud.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Maerys,” he responded politely, his smile unwavering. “My mother, Eulalie, is a soldier here as well. Maybe you’ll get to meet her soon, if you haven’t already.” Regis still found it difficult to imagine his mother as such; she was fierce when necessary and a passionate individual, willing to do anything and everything for her people, and he admired her a great deal. To picture her out on a battlefield, inflicting harm on somebody else, however? It seemed impossible, and the thought was one he quickly abolished from his mind.

Maerys’ question didn’t stir an ounce of irritation within the yearling’s breast. He was unlike many children his age, he’d been told, never resenting the requests nor rules put forth by his parents or really anyone for that matter. This was no different. “I’m never alone when I’ve got Milo with me,” he began with a vague motion toward his russet companion, who continued to look on at the stranger with cautious eyes of blue. “But, we weren’t going to go far – just over there where that hill is, to try and practice my flying a little.” The colt looked briefly to the side, and if he were capable, he’d likely be red from embarrassment. “I’m, uh… I’m not very good at it yet.”

As for what he was doing up at such an hour, though? “I’m usually awake by now anyway, for my lessons. But I don’t have any today, and once I’m done, I wanted to spend the rest of the day with my sister.” Regis paused then, wondering if he was going off on a bit of a tangent. Surely Maerys didn’t care for that much insight as to what his plans were. He cleared his throat, then quickly went on. “If you need help with anything, though, I don’t mind putting it off for a little bit. I’d be happy to.”

"Speaking."

@Maerys

credits

[Maerys]

of dawn court MAERYS   Maerys was curious about his mother who was also in the warrior rankings. Did she fight like the devil, fully devoid of sympathy? Did she crush and slaughter her foes? At the end of it all, when the mighty red sun rose above the horizon, did she walk away mercilessly letting her defeated enemies rot? Imagination was painful and tiresome, but so addicting to the fae. She wondered tirelessly about the infinite possibilities in her universe. In moments like these, her imagination painted horrendous images of war and loss in her mind, her thoughts narrating each image with unrivaled allegiance. It was peculiar... the injury you could conjure up from just a mere thought. "I shouldst knoweth mine own allies," she mused out loud, her voice cutting deeply through the images of blood and battle. "I shall searcheth for her a different eve." A meager simper morphs her lips as she speaks to the lad. Her tongue was that of bells, more suitable than bird tune, both heartfelt yet resolute. Though her tone rivaled the excellence of a fiddle, there was something uncomplicated about it (conceivably that's what made it so distinctly beautiful). He mentioned Milo once more, his faithful companion, before admitting his desire to fly accurately and skillfully. Though grievously mediocre right now, Maerys could distinctly see his eagerness and devotion to the skill and heeded that one dawn in the future he would be a magnificent flier (though she did momentarily question if his stunted state would bar him from ever moving correctly in the heavens). Her mauve eyes flick upwards, regarding the swiftly ascending sun and the wintry vapors that dapple the sky. Between these clouds that promised snowfall was a quickly morphing atmosphere- from twilight to daylight. She did not, nor would she ever, know the feeling of the zephyr below her feathered appendages. She would never fly with the birds that raced and tweeted from their high altitude. She would never know the weight of wings at her side. Her hooves were made to travel quickly and briskly on the ground. She could cover the uneven ground, swamp to desert, with a great loping gait as if her ankles were made of tightly coiled springs rather than sinew and bone. From any perspective, it was clear the girl was born not to fly but to run. "I wouldst offer to teachest thee, but it wouldst not help thee much," she sighed before shifting slightly to expose her bare flank and noticeable lack of wings. "And I'm sure thou art not untalented, thou art still learning. Thee shall be a bird soon." The boy's admittance that he spends his vacant time after schoolings with his sister heats Maerys's core. With such a tumultuous upbringing, Maerys never really had a family and regrets that she never had the opportunity to spend more time with her parents before their untimely passing. She wants to preach to the boy to never take those he loves for granted for they could be gone in a single breath, but she saves her tongue for what use would a child lecturing a child be? She was believed she was wiser than him by a fraction, but not enough to instill sage advice in him. "Sounds like a most wondrous afternoon." The boy, though so young, was intelligent and well-spoken (better than Maerys!). She felt as if she was speaking to someone her own age rather than this meager boy. His intellect was palpable when he spoke, addressed, inquired, responded, everything. "Perhaps thee couldst giveth me a tour of the grounds? Or if't be true thee'd rather practice now than acquaint me with the area, mayhaps another eve?" The offer was simplistic and candid. If Regis would prefer training and adhere to his agenda, Maerys would fully understand. If he however didn't mind, she would love to see what the land has to offer with him- a tour from the Dawn prince himself (though she didn't know that quite yet). @Regis absolutely so sorry for the wait <3 had to move out of my dorm for the summer & took a bit of my time IT WASN'T ABOUT PRAYING TO THE GOD YOU BELIEVE IN IT WAS SOLELY ABOUT BELIEVING IN YOURSELF

[Regis]

look at the stars
look how they shine for you

Looking upon her now, Regis wouldn’t be able to fathom the images of blood and merciless slaughter which clouded Maerys’ vision as she mulled over his otherwise simple question. The worst that the boy had seen thus far was the great fire that had ravaged Delumine, and though he had begun to delve into epic tales which detailed great, bloody battles, the yearling struggled to really paint the image of such a scene in his head. Hatred was a difficult concept, a feeling he had yet to truly experience. He had never been wronged, never been dealt a lie or suffered heartbreak, and perhaps that was why he wore a permanent smile.

At her offer, then gesture toward her barren sides which lacked wings unlike his own, however, the Prince frowned as his eyes were taken over by abrupt worry. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he was quick to say, lowering his head and tilting his tulip-shaped ears backward in a way that showed his regret. “I didn’t mean it that way, Miss Maerys.” He attempted to lighten the mood, even if he was wrong in believing he had brought it down at all. “But… wings or not, sometimes it’s useful to have someone there to make sure I’m not sloppy.”

Regis breathed deep when their conversation progressed, maintaining a proper and well-balanced that he had modeled after his own father – square but relaxed, head held proudly but not in a way that deemed him better than anyone else. He was, after all, a servant to this land and her people, no matter his feeble age. When Maerys voiced her suggested his smile grew, dual-toned eyes glowing with mirth as he nodded his head. “It would be my honor to show you around the citadel. I’ll show you the most important places first – like the dining hall, the training grounds, some of the watch towers… and a few of the empty rooms that you can pick out for yourself.”

With that same easy smile the boy turned, motioning with an inclination of his head for the other dun to follow. As they walked in unison to their first destination, Regis cast her a look of burning curiosity, hesitating for a moment as he formulated the question prior to speaking it. “May I ask where you’re from, Maerys?”

@Maerys So sorry for the wait my dear <3 My muse is slowly returning!

"Speaking."

credits

[Maerys]

she was powerful not because she wasn't scared,
but because she went on strongly despite her fear.

He apologized (for what, Maerys truly did not know). The boy claimed he didn't mean it in that way and Maerys simply smiled down on the child, with his eyes so doe-like and his heart so pure. He'd been untouched by the tragedies of the world thus far and his childish innocence transmitted off of him in eddies of palatableness. She grinned for there was a variety of happiness in children that existed nowhere else. One could dare adults to encourage that very delight in, but it would be for nothing, for there was a tempest in the sky some days and the sun in its place others, but the grown would never appreciate it as the children did. The gift of joy was sentient, a pulsating beacon of wholesomeness, and in the children, it arose powerfully.

If Maerys could've surrendered her soul to the sky and had robust wings thrust outwards from her flesh in a show of power and liberation, she would've done it without a second thought. There was a sort of... lighthearted independence in wings that she believed she would cherish, though such a projection was not in the fortune of this existence. Her soil-bound heels were her fate, and though she did not take her life for granted, she always wondered if there was more out there - more she could experience. "'Tis true - I've heard six eyes are grander than four," came her acknowledgment with a prompt wink as her eyes traveled between Milo and Regis.

When he consented to take her on a tour, he began to depart and she followed freely, fascinated to learn of her homestead. The silver-haired maiden knew how castles were erected but quivered with excitement to learn about her new home regardless. From towers persisted watchmen, spear equipped to slice and arrow unhesitant to shuttle. The walls were formulated for protection in this age that was characterized by resentment, avarice and the concupiscence for control in even pieces as faith, dignity, and devotion to the hierarchy. In the vaults, there would be bars with captured detainees just beyond the chilled metal - spies, war criminals, assassins, dictators, any crime worthy of shackles - safe from sword and ballista alike, but so close to execution or a lifetime in a cell. This castle persisted to spark reverence in a continent run on deference to rank and influence, however, it succeeded well beyond that. As it invigorated, it shielded. The children of Oriens were perpetually fulfilled within the castle walls and even winter could not cut them here with its braided whip. "I cannot wait," she claimed before he continued after a brief pause, asking the girl where she is from.

And though it isn't meant to be, the question feels like a heavy bullet.

 "I hail from an area known as Varak, but more specifically -" Her heart begins to stammer; to ache. She didn't know what to say. She was born in one area and relocated to another when her family was butchered. She had been a girl with no home and only a blemish as a history. "Ragnarysa - 'tis a beautiful desert region," she recalls and though it was not where her family welcomed her into their lives, she retains fond memories of the area and the merchant who raised her when her true family no longer could.

And then her eyes befell the grandeur of the weather-beaten walls.

Whispering in the grasses were tales of men and women who craved wisdom and honesty, who had been set against others but remained - a testament to their values.

The Dawn Court.

She swore it gave her chills, it always would.

M A E R Y S

@Regis

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