☼ s e r a p h i n a ☼
keep about your wits man, keep about your wits
know yourself and who you came in with
The moon dances down her spine, and, though Seraphina does not hate it yet, she will. But, for now, she is drowned in a patchwork of silver light and shadow, half of her skin ablaze with moon and the other half obscured in darkness from the canopies above. For now, she is a queen, albeit one without a crown, and her kingdom is recovering - rebuilding – from a months-long snowfall.
For now, she is still a reserved thing, still a composed thing – for now, she lets her softer edges linger, and she watches him with something that is not quiet, but almost, kindness.
He admits that Solis is intriguing, but he is not the god that the man is searching for. “Which god do you seek?” she inquires, though she thinks you will not find them here. He asks, then, where the others are, and she blinks at him, as though it takes her a moment to understand what he is asking.
“He is the only one that most people worship, here.” Seraphina tilts her head, examining the dark man thoroughly with those two-toned eyes; his accent suggested that he was a foreigner, and his question confirmed it. “Solis – the sun god. Our patron.” She supposes that she can call him that again, now. Her faith in Solis was fractured when the Davke culled her fledgling efforts to rebuild her struggling nation, and, even now, it is a thing that stumbles along on three legs. But he’d come for them, when the snow had come, and he’d been kinder to the Solterrans than the other gods, save perhaps Oriens; she’d still heard little news of Caligo’s behavior, but Vespera had been cruel.
Solis had come, all gleaming glory and fire, and he’d teased her – as though they were even friends. There was certainly something less godly to him than the others, in the way that he spoke to his mortals or even the way that he carried himself, to his simple solution to the snow. Whatever others might say of Solis and his mercilessness, his arrogance, she is not so sure that any of the others would be so willing to so simply aid their mortal followers, to run alongside them in battle.
The others made requests – they left the fate of the courts in the hands of their mortals.
Solis was not the same.
But debating the nature of the gods was not the point. Seraphina shakes her theological inquiry, still regarding this stranger thoughtfully. “The others guard each of our sister courts, but few in Novus worship a god that is not their own. The gods are rivals, and most do not care much for mortals from other regions.” This much is true. She has always respected the other gods, but her worship has always been reserved for Solis – save, on occasion, for Tempus, who is a god of all. “You might occasionally find people who worship Vespera or Oriens, here, the goddess and god of Dusk and Dawn, but you will probably never see Caligo – demigoddess of the night. There is little love lost between them.”
That is probably a mild way of describing the intense animosity between the two deities.
(It has been little help to the young queen’s efforts to resolve their conflict with Night diplomatically.)
----------------------------------------------------------
tags | @Blyse
notes | many months later...
keep about your wits man, keep about your wits
know yourself and who you came in with
The moon dances down her spine, and, though Seraphina does not hate it yet, she will. But, for now, she is drowned in a patchwork of silver light and shadow, half of her skin ablaze with moon and the other half obscured in darkness from the canopies above. For now, she is a queen, albeit one without a crown, and her kingdom is recovering - rebuilding – from a months-long snowfall.
For now, she is still a reserved thing, still a composed thing – for now, she lets her softer edges linger, and she watches him with something that is not quiet, but almost, kindness.
He admits that Solis is intriguing, but he is not the god that the man is searching for. “Which god do you seek?” she inquires, though she thinks you will not find them here. He asks, then, where the others are, and she blinks at him, as though it takes her a moment to understand what he is asking.
“He is the only one that most people worship, here.” Seraphina tilts her head, examining the dark man thoroughly with those two-toned eyes; his accent suggested that he was a foreigner, and his question confirmed it. “Solis – the sun god. Our patron.” She supposes that she can call him that again, now. Her faith in Solis was fractured when the Davke culled her fledgling efforts to rebuild her struggling nation, and, even now, it is a thing that stumbles along on three legs. But he’d come for them, when the snow had come, and he’d been kinder to the Solterrans than the other gods, save perhaps Oriens; she’d still heard little news of Caligo’s behavior, but Vespera had been cruel.
Solis had come, all gleaming glory and fire, and he’d teased her – as though they were even friends. There was certainly something less godly to him than the others, in the way that he spoke to his mortals or even the way that he carried himself, to his simple solution to the snow. Whatever others might say of Solis and his mercilessness, his arrogance, she is not so sure that any of the others would be so willing to so simply aid their mortal followers, to run alongside them in battle.
The others made requests – they left the fate of the courts in the hands of their mortals.
Solis was not the same.
But debating the nature of the gods was not the point. Seraphina shakes her theological inquiry, still regarding this stranger thoughtfully. “The others guard each of our sister courts, but few in Novus worship a god that is not their own. The gods are rivals, and most do not care much for mortals from other regions.” This much is true. She has always respected the other gods, but her worship has always been reserved for Solis – save, on occasion, for Tempus, who is a god of all. “You might occasionally find people who worship Vespera or Oriens, here, the goddess and god of Dusk and Dawn, but you will probably never see Caligo – demigoddess of the night. There is little love lost between them.”
That is probably a mild way of describing the intense animosity between the two deities.
(It has been little help to the young queen’s efforts to resolve their conflict with Night diplomatically.)
----------------------------------------------------------
tags | @Blyse
notes | many months later...
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
