A part of her had been hesitant to leave Terrastella behind, trepidation alight like a smoldering ember within her breast. There were other warriors, she knew, highly capable men and women who could protect the Dusk Court if need be, but she loathed to be so far away from the place that she had begun to feel was home. Diarmuid would protect Terrastella, and Ki’irha would as well, once she had recovered from her trying ordeal. It would be in good, capable hands until their return. Besides, they had been given a mission, and they could not simply go back or disregard the task in which their newly appointed Sovereign had entrusted to them.
Florentine had given them a task; go and assist the citizens of Solterra. Simple enough. They were offering aid in the form of their healers, with Isorath and Evangeline in her company to see the task through. Israfel herself was no medic or healer, lacking much familiarity with such a cherished ability; she was a warrior, a fighter, a defender, and had been tasked in keeping her traveling companions safe. It was a job in which she readily took to heart. Unfamiliar as she was with the battle prowess of Isorath or Evangeline, the Sun Daughter would do all that she could to keep them safe along their trek.
It took days, their journey. Terrastella was not close to Solterra, not at all, and due to Evangeline’s lack of wings, they travelled by ground. The Day Court proper was on the polar opposite side of Novus, and it would be a daunting journey, but one she was willing to face with bravado and determination. Occasionally Israfel would take to the skies to scout out their path ahead, but would dutifully return to her companion’s sides, never straying too far or for too long. Eventually the terrain began to shift, rolling plains turning into rocky crags as they ascended the mountain ranges of Novus, but that too changed into the sandy dunes of Solterra’s vast desert. This would mark the Sun Daughter’s maiden venture into Solterra, and she couldn’t contain the thread of excitement that thrummed through her veins at the notion.
Solterra was the land of the sun, paying homage to Solis. Sol. Sun. As the Daughter of the Sun God himself from Helovia, she felt a familial sort of tie to these lands; from the cresting dunes of pale sand to the mighty of the sun in the sky, she felt so very alive amidst it all, welcoming the heat that cascaded down upon them as they traveled. Inevitably, they arrived to the Day Court proper, halting just outside of the massive stone walls and the entrance of the fortress. Israfel did not want to simply traipse foolishly into a Court that was not their own, not when Solterra had so recently lost their Sovereign, Maxence. It was, after all, the very reason as to why they were there. It was daunting, the fortress, a mighty shelter granted to those hardy enough to survive such grueling conditions. Clearing her throat, tongue dry from their trek across the desert, pausing to rest at the Oasis for a night and quench their thirst, Israfel called out, flanked on either side by Isorath and Evangeline. They were her shield-siblings, and she, theirs, and together they would do what was needed before returning home.
“Solterra!” She called, her voice hoarse from the dry air, sweat darkening her ivory hide as gilded wings flexed upon her shoulders, “We have come from Terrastella, sent by Lady Florentine! She has sent us to offer aide in whatever way that the Day Court may need in such trying, difficult times.” Vermilion eyes glanced to her left, focusing on Isorath, and then to her right, glancing to Evangeline, and thus grew quiet, allowing them to say their piece or regard the situation with silence. Hopefully they would not be turned away, but Florentine had been confident that they would be welcomed among the Solterrans. She could only pray that the loss of Maxence would not have affected their welcoming.
@Isorath @Evangeline and anyone from Day Court! Florentine has sent Evangeline, Isorath, and Israfel to Solterra to offer assistance in the wake of Max's passing.
— and I sank beneath the amorous sadness of night.
The unpleasantness the kirin held toward Solterra had admittedly subsided somewhat with the news of Maxence's passing, the Sage still remained skeptical and guarded in his opinions toward the Day Court. The future monarch had yet to be revealed to the rest of the Courts, and their precarious first steps into the role of Sovereign would be greatly scrutinized by those who had been rubbed raw by the former Ruler's short reign.
Something which he would be watching with rapt attention.
There had been no hesitance from him, when Florentine had elected to have him travel to Solterra with Evangeline and Israfel, there had only been the intrigued tilt of his head and the soft hum of acknowledgement. A Healer, a Warrior and a Sage. It sounded an awful lot like the start of the legendary stories of Vectaeryn's heroes. Or the stories he once listened to beneath a wisteria tree, in a garden wrapped in a castle a world away. Such a tender thought gave him pause, the often aloof and icy mask worn on his face shattered into something much softer. Longing, nostalgia, the painful tug of sewn together strings.
It's gone shortly after, pushed aside with the knowledge he needed to be present. Alert. Focused. Isorath had minimal knowledge in the healing arts, trained for politics and war games than herbalism and potion making. Maybe Florentine had placed him alongside the mares as a security measure, or that there would be tomes in Zolin's grand palace that required a careful hoof to leaf through and procure remedies for Evangeline to make.
In any case, the journey had been one of the longest Isorath had taken, and with Evangeline lacking the means to fly — it seemed to take infinitely longer. Blessedly, the sands had opened up to them, and the heat washed over Isorath like a lover's embrace. Warming his bones and reigniting the fires that raged beneath his skin. He was forged from dragonfire and tempered with gold. He was made to glitter and glimmer beneath the desert sun like a mirage to the parched and delirious.
He stayed quiet when Israfel chose to announce their arrival, giving the warrior a brief nod before he tilted his jeweled face away, watching the horizon for any sign of the Solterran's that may or may not appear. The wind occasionally causing the golden tokens to chime together in the breeze, a soft music to accompany the arid atmosphere."Let us hope that they are amiable to help." he breathed, wings unfurling from his sides to soak in more of the suns rays to warm his pale skin. Talons gingerly pressed into the white sand beneath him, curling their gilded visage into the fine gains.
OOC notes can go here, as well as tags! remove the 'hr' tag to get rid of this line ^
"this here is your speech colour!
@Israfel @Evangeline
I STAY EMPTY, I FEEL THE HUNGER so simple when I was younger--
It was hard to describe the terrible sense of constriction that felt omnipresent in every movement the silver girl, newly-crowned, made. Seraphina had never been prone to nerves, much less fear and uncertainty. She had always been quick to adjust and quick to survive because she had never been able to do anything but pray that, if she just did what she was told, she would make it to the next day. Now she held the weight of a nation on her shoulders – a nation still strained beneath the weight of past despotism and war, a nation that had isolated itself from all others, if not outright provoked them, a nation still reeling from the loss of the first hint of stability it had felt in many years. (And she was still less of a woman and more of a girl, scarcely free of the fragile blush of childhood; she would not step away from the crown now, but she was beginning to doubt herself for ever taking it up in the first place. Seraphina still wasn’t even entirely sure why she desired it.) Conflicted as she felt, it never made the transition from her chest to her face. She walked the worn stone hallways of the fort with the same, icy demeanor that had always possessed her, curled into stiff neutrality as she oversaw efforts to rebuild from the teryr attack and planned to hunt the beast; if anything, she was colder than ever before, desperate to keep any hint of frailty from slipping through the cracks. Solterra had already been devastated. The last thing that her people needed now was a faltering Sovereign.
It was that same coldness that lingered in her every movement as she strode out of the fortress to greet the visitors from Terrastella, even in the scalding heat of the desert; her features were stiff as stone, though there was nothing particularly defensive to her posture as she cast her gaze across her visitors, contemplating the words of the girl she could only assume was the leader of the group – snow and fire, a spiraled horn and wings like a bird. Her eyes lingered on her for a moment, before they drew to her companions; she recognized the man, though the gentle flaxen creature was a mystery to her. “Greetings,” Her voice dripped from charcoal lips, thickly accented and rasping against the walls of her throat. “I am Seraphina, Sovereign of Solterra.” The title still tasted wrong on her tongue, like it wasn’t her own; if it was anything like the role of Emissary, it would take time for it to settle. She couldn’t dismiss the sudden rush of discomfort that came from introducing herself to the Terrastellans – there was no stepping back from such a declaration, now that she had said it aloud. “We are deeply appreciative of Terrastella’s kindness…and of your own, for embarking on such a journey to come to our aid.” The words rolled off her tongue smoothly; her time spent as Emissary had taught her well. Seraphina was, admittedly, reluctant to accept their aid; Solterra was a proud nation, and she doubted they were in any genuine need of assistance besides. However, in the interest of diplomacy and pragmatism, she continued. “We have injured to tend to, foremost, but there is also the matter of the teryr…” For a moment, her expression twisted, the first hint of emotion to show on her features. It returned to something apathetic and unreadable almost immediately. “…and, unfortunately, because the beast attacked the capitol, we must rebuild. Whatever your skills may be, I suspect they will be valuable.” Her ears flicked forward in anticipation of their response, whatever it might be. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was walking on eggshells, her every move a reflection of her people; it made her stomach twist into knots and the skin around her collar prick with pressure, but she forced herself to remain still and poised, the picture of constraint and eerie calm.
The fear that hung like a dark cloud in the back of her mind was the first that she had ever felt, after all – nothing, not even death, had dissuaded her in the past. As she had come to discover, the threat of failure was something else entirely.
Now, she felt as though she stood on a precipice, with the threat of the abyss hanging below.
I'M IN A ROOM MADE OUT OF MIRRORSand there's no way to escape the violence of a girl against herself.☼please tag Sera! contact is encouraged, short of violence
A fanciful group gathers at the edge of the court. There is nothing remarkable about the grey who joins them now, except for perhaps the many scars scattered across his body- but in this land of warriors it is not such a strange sight. It is clear he is a soldier even if you were to overlook his scars. He moves with offhanded grace, his body a tool sharpened and refined over the past eight years.
The newcomers are an unexpected site- the Solterrans do not get visitors very often. He supposes the sands of the Mors are daunting to the uninitiated.
Eik had heard, before coming to Solterra, that the day court citizens were known for their liveliness. How unexpected it must seem to be greeted by Seraphina and himself- the mare as cold as ice and he a quiet, somber shadow. As he steps beside her, he shoots her a glance. She seems different somehow, though he could not say why.
"Welcome," He says, letting Seraphina do the talking. If he is surprised when she names herself sovereign, he does not let it show. He has been gone for some time (even after crossing the desert, he still smells of mud and sea spray, his heart still lingers like a ghost in those faraway lands
(but you don't make it easy, do you, to stay in one place))
and he certainly didn't think that court activities would halt in his absence nor, more importantly, Maxence's. Moreover, he finds the court games of ranks and positions trite and vaguely annoying, like a fly that must be swatted away again and again.
As usual, he forgets or at least does not care to introduce himself. His name does not seem so important.
-boop- @Isorath @Evangeline @Israfel @Seraphina
Eik's mostly just lurking(/ maybe stalking Sera), feel free to skip his turn as this thread progresses <3
With baited breath, Israfel stood with Evangeline and Isorath at her flanks and waited, anticipating the reception their sudden and unannounced arrival might herald, finding comfort in the presence of her shield-siblings. Would it be positive? Would her first mission bestowed by their newly ascended Sovereign return in success? Or would they be shunned and turned away, resulting in yet another list of failures? It was hard to say, but they could do naught but wait, and hope that their journey and all of the miles passed beneath their feet hadn’t been for nothing.
As luck would have it, they did not have to wait long.
The Daughter of the Sun watched as a woman emerged from the fortress, a creature of cool grey and dipped ink who had clearly mastered the political mask of indifference. Israfel caught the glistening silver of a collar fastened snug about the woman’s neck, and for a moment pondered how it did not choke her, when she instead focused on the words that were offered in greeting. Well. At least they weren’t being chased from the dunes of Solterra for their brazenness. The grey mare introduced herself as Seraphina, the Sovereign of Solterra, and the gilded maiden dipped her head in a respectful nod.
Another joined them, and the fire maiden’s vermilion eyes assessed him with noticeable quickness. He offered them only a gruff greeting, but did not seem incredibly interested in their arrival. Something else then, perhaps? Still, he did not seem threatening, and so the shield-maiden’s gaze slid from his dappled masculinity and instead focused once more on the Day Court Sovereign.
“Thank you for coming to greet us in person, Seraphina,” Israfel stated, risking a glance to Isorath, as her prowess in tongue paled in comparison to her prowess on the battlefield. Hopefully he, as a Sage, would help her not make a fool of herself or belittle the importance of their cause. “It has been a very long trek, and we are tired but undaunted. My name is Israfel, a warrior of Terrastella.” She would not introduce Isorath or Evangeline, not wishing to speak for them. They were, after all, equals. Rose-kissed lips twisted upwards in a grin, vermilion eyes glinting in the bright sunlight. “I don’t know much about healing, but I readily offer my strength to assisting in rebuilding your Capitol, or patrolling with your soldiers. Should you require my services elsewhere, it won’t be a problem.”
Once, years ago, she would have balked at the thought of such grueling labor. Now, reborn, Israfel was not so easily daunted or unnerved. This task would be yet another stepping stone of many in her new life, her second chance. She was not naïve enough to squander it.
— and I sank beneath the amorous sadness of night.
Isorath is not surprised that it doesn't take long for the first to appear, after all, given the circumstances and rumors which had floated out of Solterra and into their neighboring Kingdom's, even the most laxed ruler would respond swiftly to strangers. He is pleasantly surprised to find it is a familiar face that greeted them, the mare spun of molten silver and he had conversed once before.
"Congratulations on your ascension." He offered with a tilt of his head, a smile curled on his pale maw as he regarded her. There is no malice, or subtle teasing to be found in his accented lilt, the rich musical notes are genuine and if there is amusement, it is directed at the rather unfortunate demise of the former ruler. It is the way of the World, the wheel turned and it hardly cared for who it removed from the board, and how. Survival of the fittest, or rather, the smartest in most cases.
The newcomer to the fray received a once over from the winged kirin, his gaze cutting as he assessed the stallion, and when he deemed him no more a threat to the negotiations and his companion than a bothersome fly in mid-summer, turned his attention back to Seraphina and Israfel. He's not here to make pleasantries, pleasantries can come afterward once the formality of the situation had been concluded.
"Seraphina already knows who I am, we've met once before." He off-handedly explained to Israfel, when he did not immediately add his own introduction after hers, his smile twitched momentarily. "As Israfel said, we are here to offer aid however Solterra needs it. While my talents as a Sage here are not the most adequate for rebuilding. I can translate texts that may contain recipes for healing tonics, or locations of herbs that will tend to the injured. I may be better suited for aiding the hunt in the Teyr, or guarding those that aid the unfortunate however," he paused momentarily as his wings shifted back to the place against his sides, "as I've trained as a warrior first and foremost."
Hard to believe, his own voice chimed inside his own head, when you dress as you do. Perhaps it was hard to believe, that he would concede, but then Vectaeryn was filled with equines as decadently dressed as he, and they fought as fierce and passionately as the dragon's they bonded with. They were remorseless and unyielding, cunning and agile, and those that turned their noses up and made assumptions at equines who preferred silks and gold died a fools death.
Another pause, followed by a huffed breath. "While I'm no stranger to heat, perhaps it is best that we get out of Solis' gaze. The trek has been long."
OOC notes can go here, as well as tags! remove the 'hr' tag to get rid of this line ^
"this here is your speech colour!
@Israfel @Evangeline @Seraphine @Eik
