Luvena
Just like that her privacy was shattered, as another stepped onto that desolate peak, his footsteps taking with them the silence that had lingered between each wheezing breath. Who was this man to interrupt her moment, to take something she had worked so hard for, something that very well could have taken her life for a second time.
With effort she hauled herself to her feet, starkly made aware once more of how thin the air was, when her vision immediately spun, and stars appeared where they hadn’t been before, pushing themselves into constellations she hadn’t seen in over two years. Her own image splattered across them, hers and syrilths, both written in the stars like the ink that crossed the pages of dawn courts great scrolls. If only she had been born a different person, she would never have suffered the fate she did.
Her eyes were drawn first to the blood that dripped down his legs, the iron tang hitting her nose. It was the smell that had followed the fire that took her woods. The color that the skies were painted when Herstials willows hit the ground in little grey flecks, a blanket as cold as snow, and as cruel as the gods themselves. Usually she would have fussed over such a thing, reached into her satchel and set to work.
For once though she did not care. Did not care to help a creature who would cross her in such a vulnerable moment. Who would take this one thing from her. She huffed indignantly as he spoke. Not even glancing down to the ant he spoke of, instead her turquoise eyes yelling fury into the silence between his words. Broken only by her heavy breaths. She forced her legs to cooperate as she walked towards the man, as she stretch out her neck until she stood tall, as level to him as she could.
“Who are you to assume what I do and do not forget about those who call themselves gods?” she asked, bitterness creeping over her tongue, enveloping her in its cold embrace. She lifted a crimson hoof, letting her toe fall onto the tiny bug. Hoof against stone echoing into the night from the high peak. “You think I don’t know the cruelty they cast upon those who are smaller and weaker than they? That I don’t know the extent of which we are at their mercy, and the extent to which they use it as a toy in each and every game they play?”
She didn’t know where the anger had come from, from what deep recess it had risen. Perhaps it had been left behind in the depths of Elysium, only now rising to her. Or perhaps it had fallen with the ashes in Herstial, but now it bubbled up through her throat. “You know nothing of me, not my name, not the people I’ve led and let fail. Not the places I’ve been, or the ones I’ve loved and hurt. Not the children I’ve bore. And yet you dare waltz in on my moment, and assume that I know nothing of the ones I speak to?”
She had never felt such anger broil within her. Not even when she had spoken to Caligo out her window that fateful night. When Obyana had let loose his mouth of flames it was terror and sadness that flooded her. When the woods fell it was horror, that someone could be so cruel for no reason. When Etain took her people and Cavaliers tongue, it was desolation, hopelessness, that filled Luvena’s soul. And yet the simple words of this one man, this one stranger who had done nothing but speak, had the princess, the queen, the humble medic, seeing red.
“What small man you must be” she sneered “A woman who thought herself a god doomed my kingdom years before its time, and years and years later it fell, long after her death she cursed it to a fate that never should have come to be.” Sometimes she forgot about Ma Testri, cast the image aside and blamed herself. At heart she knew it was the fault of neither, instead the fault of a king, a many time great grandfather who had not the forgiveness in his heart to save the land of willow and wildflowers.
“A god of justice and mercy let a kingdom be taken from my frail grasp by a wolf who did not count his values. A land he himself had taken ownership of. And he let it drop without question” That too, she knew was not Acrux’s doing. And still she could not see past the crimson that clouded her vision. No more did she see the blood on the strangers leg, as it blended in with the rest of the world, no more did she smell that iron tang, as the rest of the world changed to match it. A red that matched Vegas strength.
“A Goddess of war and valor saved me from a fate I was ready for. One I had taken in stride, one that was supposed to take me the day I was born, and instead was staved off by willpower for eight long hard years. I gave her my loyalty and she gave me her undying strength so that I may feel flesh between my ribs and clarity in my head, that I may not fall asleep each night wondering if I would have the strength to stand in the morning. And when she felt it appropriate she ripped it away without morning, casting me back into this shell of a body.” This was the one she could justify, could not meld to make it somehow just the fault of fate. This was the one that made her heart sing song of unforgiveness. Made her want to pull Vega from the sky and cast her forever into shadows. Made her want to beg for Caligo, or Acrux, or Heretic to take away her power and cast her aside. She wished, on that one night, that the firstborns had simply let her die. Instead of giving her a taste of another life. A fate she wouldn't wish upon anyone, no matter how much she hated them. This was the one thing, she wasn't sure she would ever forgive. Even though she though everyone deserved it, that chance for forgiveness. She could not find the strength inside of her, to muster up any sort of forgiveness for this one thing.
“We are the ants of this world and of that I am well aware. So who are you, stranger, to look at me just once and decide otherwise.” She turned back away from him, laying down once more at Caligo’s hooves, letting the smell of rosemary cut over the iron that still flooded her senses. “I know full well, to what kind of being I am giving my words to.”
IM SO SORRY IDK SHES BEING LIKE THIS
Really idk where it came from I love @
(also @Caligo)
Table © Camy
