Small crafts of paper, held aloft by flame. They would be ripped to shreds by the wind if they were so much as buffeted in the wrong direction. They were so fragile, falling apart when touched as lightly as the breeze from a butterfly's wings.
And it was these things that were supposed to carry off the past year, and carry the wishes for the new one.
It was fitting, in a way. These things were so delicate, so easily broken. All it would take was one wrong move and everything the people of Novus hoped for for the coming year would come tumbling down. Everything would be ripped to shreds on the wind, the voices of their wishes quashed by the gale.
Yet people still put their faith into these lanterns, still poured their hearts and their souls into the crafts and believed with all their hearts that they would safely carry their hopes and dreams off to the heavens, to be brought upon them in the coming year. They put their faith in these small scraps of paper and measly flame to carry off whatever negativity may have weighed them down in the year before, to safely escort the demons of the past away from their lives without tearing and unleashing pandora's box.
The common sense in the stallion wanted to shake his head, to warn those who stood on the cliff side not to place such faith in such delicate contraptions, to be wary of the dangers the world held. To not trust in something more delicate than gossamer and more prone to breaking than hearts.
But that would never stop them, and for some reason, it didn't stop him either.
He stood on the cliff, away from the rest of the congregation, face tilted towards the sky as he watched the lanterns of others floating in the frigid air. He stood alone, in the dark and the cold, away from the fire and warmth, an unlit lantern by his hooves and the sound of waves breaking on the shore below surrounding his quiet breaths.
He stood silently, a light wind coming in from the ocean tugging just so at his mane, keeping the forelock away from his eyes and ruffling the paper of the lantern by his hooves, held down by the weight of the lighter tucked away inside.
Perhaps it would be poetic to say he contemplated the fragility of wishes and just how much of Novusean society was held up by sheer faith. But he didn't need to contemplate such things, to someone who skulked in shadows and watched from a distance, it was already so very clear.
So he didn't contemplate anything, really. He just watched the floating lanterns drifting off to sea, the distant murmur of voices and the sound of the wind in his ears the waves of the ocean his only company. And he thought, for a moment, how funny it was that it was the dead of winter, and yet the lanterns in the far distance might even be mistaken for fireflies.
The dark is deceptive, shrouding depth so that a mile may look like a meter and a meter may look like an endless abyss, the still, quiet air helping to further skew perception with its hollow, carrying quality, voices drifting across the night with an ease that daylight doesn’t afford. Light, too, seems to carry farther, if only because of the sharp contrast it strikes against its inky surroundings, mysterious glowing shapes floating and flickering with life some indiscernible distance away. It’s all too much of a draw, too interesting to be left alone.
Curiosity consumes the mare, tugging her along with ears cupped forward, head high, eyes searching, her steps quick and thoughtless - almost. Though she loathes to delay herself, the grey is careful to stay on a path, lesson learned and still close enough at hand to rein her in from her time being trapped in the Viride Forest. She doubts another kindly stranger will wander through if when she next finds herself caught up in her own enthusiasm, so best to use some precaution.
Gradually the ground rises beneath her hooves, lifting her higher. The air thins and more of the mysterious lights come into view, a whole swarm of them, closer now, surely. Stone begins to ring with each hurried step, but all she has attention for are the lights. There’s something mesmerizing about their lazy drifting, the thin, golden light they splash across nearby objects. It’s whimsical, charming.
As she closes what she thinks is the final space between her and her newfound obsession, something solid and dark appears, blocking out the warm glow from behind in an unmistakably equine shape. At this she pauses, hesitant, then tentatively calls, ”Hello?”
No one she's met in Novus has been hostile so far, but instinct is quick to remind her that it's never too late for that to change and that what doesn't kill her might just as easily leave her mangled or unspeakably damaged in some way, a fate she is completely committed to avoiding, if only by a hairsbreadth.
He found himself unable to discern and make distinction between sets of hoofsteps. There were so many nearby, so many voices and the sound of so many hooves, so much flickering light, he could nary tell what was approaching and what was merely the ambient sound of those shuffling around, moving to simply move and refrain from staying still. He heard nothing as Adelheid came ever closer.
"Hello?"
With the sound of so many voices nearby, hearing one more was not too much of a shock. He did not stand there and expect to hear no words, nor expect all of them to be indiscernible in the distance. It was only a matter of time before some should pass by and he should be able to make out the words distinctly. But nonetheless, he did not expect to be directly addressed, and he flinched, muscles tightening almost painfully at being approached.
His head swiveled to look behind him, finding that he had been approached by a woman, a unicorn of some form. He did not recognize her as a member of his Court. Of course, he left his hideout so rarely he doubted he would recognize many in his Court. He only knew a scant few.
Her voice was quiet, and she looked tentative from where she stood, nervous as though she was afraid of his response.
Lies. Tricks. Deceit. She's tricking you into letting your guard down. It's all just a tra-
He dipped his head slightly in greeting, the returned 'hello' he murmured hardly distinguishable from the ambient chatter of others in the distance, even to himself. He cast his gaze to the ground, fighting against the heart that suddenly seemed to have left his ribs to make its home in his throat. Surely, it wasn't too late to move? Or would she follow him?
Did she come here to steal his lantern? Well, he hadn't lit it yet, and if she wanted it he could always get another. Or he could just leave so that way he wouldn't be approached by anyone again, because surely no one would approach when he had nothing for them to take.
He wanted to take his hoof off of the lantern to present it to her, but knew it would blow away in the wind if he did such a thing. He looked down to it, before looking away, keeping his gaze downturned. He simply stood and looked at the ground beneath his hooves, at the ocean spray in the distance. He looked at everything but the unicorn who had approached him.
He hoped she would simply say what she wanted and let him be on his way. He didn't want to cause any trouble.
