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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

Private  - -- All My Fear Is Coming Home

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Noctiilucent
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#1



Her search has not brought her closer to finding Isra. Noctii has been absent from Denocte for months now, and she has little to show for it. Save for the woman in the Dawn court. If she can call that anything. Her travels have brought her to the strange bridge that is stirring chatter throughout the lands. A bridge has made an appearance, it was spat out by vines of throbbing berries. Despite her search, she is too drawn to the strange rumor. Perhaps Isra will be on the other side of the bridge. She could feel the chill in the air, winter was upon them. The winds gnaw on the bones of summer, she can feel it. The sun aches, or so she imagines. Soon it will be kept at bay from their lands. Further away. As she understands it. Noctii is a scholar, but she is reliant upon the discoveries of others. It feels much like Isra. Winter is like missing Isra. Noctii struggles to understand her role in Isra's life. They are friends, but she isn't sure what she feels. A part of her feels too inadequate to be the friend of such a brilliant queen. The thoughts have been a plague in her mind. At least her absence this time was for a good reason. It was not selfish. Not entirely. 

She remembers the promises she gave to Moira, she knows her task has ended in failure. Noctii wonders if she will ever face the woman who acts as their Sovereign. Noctii decides she will collide with her worries this time, she will speak with Moira. Her travels have taken her to strange and wonderful lands, but they have brought no fruits for Denocte. None that are apparent. The maiden spun from gold takes a few steps toward the crowd that trickles onto the bridge. They spill like water that has been held back for so long. There is hesitant and excited chatter erupting around her. Noctii finds herself frozen to the ground as the bodies move around her. Hesitation strikes her, and she feels fear seep into her bones. No matter how much she wills herself to move onto the bridge, she cannot. Noctii pays no mind to the grumbles of those who spit their irritation at her. She doesn't think she can venture across this new path alone. She thinks she should turn toward home. Deal with her failures sooner rather than later. Noctii cannot force her limbs to move. The fear sinks into her core, and she shivers. The breath of winter feels as though it is coming from inside her now.

The adventurer who has lost so much, and who had come so far, is afraid. The scholar who so ferociously wanted to find her friend. The warrior that has spilled blood for the sake of chaos is frozen. The fear is so cold it threatens to burn her core. She can feel the wind surge beneath her hair, and she stares into the sky. Noctii has not been felt so trapped in her own body in so long. It was like being paralyzed in your sleep, but she has not fallen asleep. Fear is the beast that roots her here.




 "Speech" Thoughts




Notes: I wasn't expecting this post to turn out this way ;__;
Tags: @Isra


I was wandering under black skies
Clutching at what is mine










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Isra
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#2

Isra with a challenge in her eye


Sometimes it seems as if all of Novus is gathering to the bridge and the island. Each time she moves through the crowds they seem to press in harder against the edges of her skin. Even the sky feels weighted, pregnant with something that makes her skin itch even though she cannot name it. The birds flying overhead are moving in a pattern she wants to learn, all sharp beaks and colors brighter than the fury still blooming, and growing in her heart.

And Isra is still looking at each set of eyes that snag and pause on the dragon flying lazy loops between the birds and the clouds. She's looking for the shine of evil, of a stain that no fresh skin or monstrous shape can hide. Part of her thinks that her soul will always know the shape of Raum's. That something deep in her will look at something deep and in and always recognize the thing that made it. Maybe then they will not look at each other as a queen to a ghost, but as a monster to a monster, war to war, hate to hate.

Even now she can still taste blood and poison on her tongue. It makes the brine of the sea taste wrong. She swallows it down anyway-- down, down, down.

Isra is still swallowing down everything when she looks up across the bridge she's pacing and spots that sheen of gold and the gleam of light on bone-white horns. She smiles, and that beast of fury withers a little inside her chest.  Each of her steps feels lighter than the last and Fable starts to hum softly as he flies lower and lower. Soon she's moving faster than anything else on the bridge, even the birds overhead seem caught on the current of her.

Each place she touches the black rock turns to quartz. It reflects the sun until everything is bright light, golden light, light bright enough to sting her eyes when she looks down and slides to a stop. Her smile reflects the sun a little too and she tosses her head up like a challenge for that nameless itch crawling across her skin. The sea in her eyes churns with it when she calls, “Noctiilucent.”.

But she can see the uncertainty in her friends body, as surely as she knows the way her body isn't soft anymore. She's sharp and strong, a fresh forged sword. So she waits, because she'll fight any battle, tear down any god for those she loves. Some battles, though, she cannot fight.

And in her eyes there is still that flashing challenge that seems to say, hurry up, we have hunting to do.


“A lone wolf sees the wisdom in guarding the sheep and hunting their predators.”












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Noctiilucent
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#3



Isra's voice calls out to her. Noctii does not believe she has truly heard the voice of her friend until she turns to see her. From beneath her feat erupts quartz that glitters in the sun. Isra races across the bridge towards her, and Fable, now grown, is not far behind her. Noctiilucent stares in awe of her friend, but she feels her body spring to life. The friend she loves so dearly has returned. Noctiilucent can see the silent invitation of her friend to join her in the new hunt. This time it is a hunt for answers, and not for the dogs of war that took her away. She joins her friend in her race across the bridge. Noctiilucent is no longer afraid, it is hard to feel fear when a friend like Isra is beside her. Soon the pair of them are the two quickest moving bodies on the bridge. Noctii's hair has grown much longer since she last saw Isra. It billows behind her like a proud ivory banner. Noctii exhales the worry from her lungs as she keeps pace with her friend.  "My Moon has come home." She calls to her friend as they move across the bridge. They press forward into the unknown, but they appear fearless.

Isra is fearless, she is effortless. She is all the things that Noctii admires and aspires to be. It is what she loves most about Isra. Noctiilucent can feel apprehension sneak back inside her, it crawls up her heels. It traipses up her spine. It is a crawling, insidious feeling. It wants only to sabotage her approach. But this is an adventure, she is not alone. Noctiilucent steals a glance at her friend. Though it has been quite some time since they were last together, she feels as though no time has passed at all. If only she could insert herself into the life of others so easily, to matter to so many in such a short amount of time. "I searched for you in Dawn. I was stuck there for awhile. When did you get home?" She called to Isra breathlessly. Noctiilucent could feel her lungs flood with air, and she could feel her body flood with life as they moved. The quartz that erupted from beneath Isra's hooves continued to glitter in the sun. She wonders if her queen will shape the world they are about to enter too.

Noctiilucent can feel the void that was left by Isra's absence filling slowly. Part of her still does not believe her friend is here, but she will not take these moments for granted. 




 "Speech" Thoughts




Notes: I just assumed that she didn't stop xD so Noctii started running with her.
Tags: @Isra


I was wandering under black skies
Clutching at what is mine










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Isra
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#4

Isra who holds a cobra


For a moment there is only this--

The hammer beat of their hooves upon quartz that is making her heart, and her bones, sing. The way their bodys stretch and move, like waves upon the bridge, or like arrows cutting through the air. The sheer thrill of feeling power curled between her tendons like a sleeping lion. The way she knows that changing the ground beneath them is as easy to her magic as breathing is to her lungs.

For a moment there is only the knowing, that this is a drop in the ocean of her power (the contintent of her rage).

And then there is the moment in which she gathers up all her feral power and curls her nose towards her cheset like a swan. She's touching Noctiilucent then, a brush of their shoulders light enough to be nothing more than a kiss of dandelion seed across their sweating skin. “I will always return.” Isra says and the words are falling like a wire between them, a promise sharp, barbed, and eternal.

Her war-drum hooves slow until they are nothing more than an echo of her beating heart which has turned to flame in her chest. The quartz stops growing like a weed the moment they make it to the island. The sand is silent as she moves through it but her magic is still reaching out like a tide towards each grain of earth. Nothing is ever enough for her magic.

Isra cages it and it's almost too easy.

“I came back when Denocote started to burn.” Fable cries overhead because he too has had enough soot and fire to last him a dragon lifetime. Something in Isra's heart, maybe her magic, roars back at him even though her legs are still moving slowly across the shore. “Why were you stuck in Dawn?” And when she asks, oh when she asks, her magic rears up like a cobra and strikes all the sand all their hooves into ore.

Even when she's not running her bones are still singing a hammer-song inside her skin. When she lifts her eyes towards her friend it only feels like there is both war and love twisting around and around like the moon and the sun in the span of her chest.


“There was once a time when darkness shrouded the world, and the darkness had a queen.”












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Noctiilucent
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#5




Time passes around them, but when she is with Isra, she feels as though they are timeless. As if time cannot restrict them, because being with Isra is as effortless as breathing. Being around her is natural. It is enough to forget the burn in her lungs. The soft flesh of Isra's shoulder brushes against hers as they race toward the island together. She makes a promise with thorns, that she will always return. Noctiilucent remains silent, but there is a smile on her face. It will not quell her worries the next time, if there is a next time, this happens. Noctiilucent is only grateful that her friend is home. The island spills before them and only then does Isra slow. Her ivory pillars halt the ocean of gold, black and ivory that is her bodice. Isra tells her that she came home when Denocte started burning. Fable cries out in response to these words, and Noctiilucent can feel the cry in her bones. It rattles them like the cage. She did not know Denocte was set ablaze, the island was her first stop after Dawn. Noctii breathes out when Isra's magic coils around them like a snake ready to strike. She wants to know why Noctii was stuck in the Dawn court. Noctiilucent draws a few more breaths before she has an answer for her friend. "Denocte burned? How?" She asks first, the fact had burned itself into her mind.

Noctiilucent felt for her newfound kin. The moon loved the sun enough to take in his ashes. The huntress stares at Isra with some hesitation. The hesitation is not for her, but for fear of being overheard. "There were murders. They closed their gates while I was there. I think that I am lucky they didn't think me the killer." Noctii cast her gaze skyward toward Fable. Though the news she spilled like fresh ink on blank pages was horrible, she smiles at Fable. She is excited to see his growth, and that he is still with Isra. A magical companion for someone whose soul bled magic like stories from orators. Her gaze returns to Isra, it is clear to see that she is happy. Noctii reaches her muzzle out to Isra, offering a gentle brush against her cheek. It carries with it a silent invitation to continue on their new hunt. She has not forgotten Isra's eagerness for such a hunt. It is the first time they will share more than sad stories. This story will be a grand reunion of two friends, of two huntresses. It will be an adventure of bravery in the face of the unknown. A story that Noctii will spill onto pages with real ink, and not just the feelings in her heart. "I spent time in their library. I think that I want to tell the stories of the world. To write them.  I want to write them as beautifully as you tell them, so that the world might be as captivated by you as I am. By the world as I am... I think that starts with our hunt, Isra. Fable. Let's bring home a story Denocte will be proud of." She speaks with a newfound breath of life.

Noctii pulls herself forward, but she does not go much farther than a few feet. She stares back at Isra expectantly, she has no doubt that her Queen will join her. Her friend.




 "Speech" Thoughts




Notes: Noctii loves Isra so much <3 
Tags: @Isra


I was wandering under black skies
Clutching at what is mine










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Isra
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#6

Isra and a bone-white garden


If there is a cord between them it is pulled tight and made of gold. And perhaps if there is a wire, made golden twisted and twined between their hearts, there is another one attached to this island. Isra thinks, as her beast of magic roars and hisses and makes itself into teeth and claw and wing, the the island's chord must be a black thing waving around with no end. In the sand, protesting the way she makes it to peal and ore, Isra can feel it looking for a landing.

She wonders what it will feel like, when that thing lashing in the dark decides to settle. The thought isn't an easy one to shove down. But when she looks at her friend, and the way her horns seem like something more than bone, it seems almost natural to look away from that gnashing darkness.

Before them the forest has just started to rise up like holy spires to some undiscovered god.  “Raum sent some of his followers to Denocte. I think he hoped that burning our food stores would make us weak and afraid.” Isra laughs as she walks into the dark forest. She laughs because Raum only made another one of her bones into steel.

Around her a frond turns to an apple branch. A fern ripples in a rush of magic and becomes a stalk of wheat. At her hooves all the sand is turning to seed that catches on the wind and heads to sea  Isra plucks an apple between her teeth and bites hard enough that the sudden explosion of sweetness makes her shiver. “But he was wrong and I will make a garden of his bones for the mistake.” When she turns back to Noctiilucent and offers her the rest of the apple, there is a smolder in her gaze that sparks when she learns of dead bodies and closed border. “I would not have let them keep you.” Isra does not blink until the words dissolve into the shadows pressing in around them.

And when she thinks of her children it's with somethings as hot, and violent as rage. Bit by bit this place needs to be broken down and remade. This world will not have them either.

Isra lets herself be distracted by the thoughts of her friends dreams (later, she's still telling herself, later there will be more time to make gardens). This time when she touches the golden mare there is only pride and fierceness in the look. She does not know it's the way queens are supposed to seem to the rest of the earth. “There is nothing you could write that I would not want to share with everyone.” Isra brushes her nose across her friend's cheek. The leaves and the fronds are whispering against their backs, and she imagines they are two wild things passing through the gods-wood. She imagines they are holy.

“Someday will you read the story of our hunt to my children?” And the way that she says someday makes it sounds like forever.


“My soul has painted like the wings of butterflies,”




@Noctiilucent









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