my dream of you does not end
The library seems a good place to wait.
Sorren is no stranger to letting time pass - it has ceased to hold its meaning for her, so long has she existed. But now, oh, now, she knows a change is coming - she knows that Cassilyn is coming.
It is evening, dusk creeping along the rows and rows of books and boughs of trees, and all the lanterns are lit. The guardian is curled up atop a high shelf, red hands idly running across leather bindings, watching with calm owl-eyes all the action below. At first the Helpers, curious as the foxes they resemble, had all gathered around her, small and wary in her presence. For them she had given a glimmer of her magic, a few small orbs of light; it made her want to smile, to see the soft blue reflected in their dark eyes, and to sense their wonder of her.
But they had long since gone back to their work. All but one, who had gone out to find a pegasus pale as clouds at dawn, soft and kind as a spring morning.
Oh, she is eager, for all her wise patience! Sorren gives a little cat-like shiver and rises from where she waits; her wings stir the air around her, waft the scent of verdant leaves and musty paper. Down and down she flows, now, past shelves filled with scrolls of fairy-tales, a hundred worlds tucked away to sleep in secret (but none of the creatures as strange as her!) Down one level, down the next, past five rows of musty old trade records, past a stretch of ancient books of herb-lore. She melts like a pale shadow through the rooms, and all the Helpers turn to watch her go, and are jealous of her grace and strangeness.
Yet Sorren has no eye for them, now that she knows Cassilyn is near. All these books are wise and good, but she itches now for starlight on her skin; unerringly she follows the pathways carved from tree-trunks and branches, rugs and roots whisper-soft below her feet. Through one last doorway she passes, and now the sky opens up above her, a great dome that shows darkest indigo, little pin-pricks of stars like distant fires just lit.
One of her slender tuft-ears twitches and she knows her charge is close. The guardian is too self-possessed to be nervous, but still she smooths her hands over her coat of fur-and-feathers, tugs her red fingers through her wings. Her long tail whispers patterns across the floor; the night gleams off the blue markings that pattern her. And then she settles back, and tucks her tail around her paws, and blinks her calm blue eyes at the sound of hooves approaching.
This is how Cassilyn will find her: Sitting with unearthly, eternal grace in the starlight, the whole universe spread above her, her long, long wait at an end.
And when she sees her bonded, her companion, her charge - oh, then all the magic in her begins to shine, and puts those stars to shame.
Sorren is no stranger to letting time pass - it has ceased to hold its meaning for her, so long has she existed. But now, oh, now, she knows a change is coming - she knows that Cassilyn is coming.
It is evening, dusk creeping along the rows and rows of books and boughs of trees, and all the lanterns are lit. The guardian is curled up atop a high shelf, red hands idly running across leather bindings, watching with calm owl-eyes all the action below. At first the Helpers, curious as the foxes they resemble, had all gathered around her, small and wary in her presence. For them she had given a glimmer of her magic, a few small orbs of light; it made her want to smile, to see the soft blue reflected in their dark eyes, and to sense their wonder of her.
But they had long since gone back to their work. All but one, who had gone out to find a pegasus pale as clouds at dawn, soft and kind as a spring morning.
Oh, she is eager, for all her wise patience! Sorren gives a little cat-like shiver and rises from where she waits; her wings stir the air around her, waft the scent of verdant leaves and musty paper. Down and down she flows, now, past shelves filled with scrolls of fairy-tales, a hundred worlds tucked away to sleep in secret (but none of the creatures as strange as her!) Down one level, down the next, past five rows of musty old trade records, past a stretch of ancient books of herb-lore. She melts like a pale shadow through the rooms, and all the Helpers turn to watch her go, and are jealous of her grace and strangeness.
Yet Sorren has no eye for them, now that she knows Cassilyn is near. All these books are wise and good, but she itches now for starlight on her skin; unerringly she follows the pathways carved from tree-trunks and branches, rugs and roots whisper-soft below her feet. Through one last doorway she passes, and now the sky opens up above her, a great dome that shows darkest indigo, little pin-pricks of stars like distant fires just lit.
One of her slender tuft-ears twitches and she knows her charge is close. The guardian is too self-possessed to be nervous, but still she smooths her hands over her coat of fur-and-feathers, tugs her red fingers through her wings. Her long tail whispers patterns across the floor; the night gleams off the blue markings that pattern her. And then she settles back, and tucks her tail around her paws, and blinks her calm blue eyes at the sound of hooves approaching.
This is how Cassilyn will find her: Sitting with unearthly, eternal grace in the starlight, the whole universe spread above her, her long, long wait at an end.
And when she sees her bonded, her companion, her charge - oh, then all the magic in her begins to shine, and puts those stars to shame.
@cassilyn will be summoned by one of the library’s helpers, a small, fox-like creature. Unable to use words to properly express itself, the animal will chitter and tug at her, attempting to herd her through the forest to the waiting guardian.
Should she follow, she will find herself face to face with her guardian - and something will simply feel right, as if their meeting has been a long time in the making.
Thread requirements: 1 reply, 500 words. Please tag the RE account in your reply.
How to tag this account: @*'Random Events' without the asterisk!
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This quest was written by the lovely @griffin.
Enjoy!
Should she follow, she will find herself face to face with her guardian - and something will simply feel right, as if their meeting has been a long time in the making.
How to tag this account: @*'Random Events' without the asterisk!
Once you respond, you may post to claim the quest EXP
This quest was written by the lovely @griffin.
Enjoy!
Please be advised, tagging the Random Event account does not guarantee a response!
