That is perhaps where he is most comfortable—he was born in the wilds, after all. The society (if it could even be called that) of his parents had been a primitive one, excelling only in ways that involved war, brute strength, or savagery. They were a barbaric people. Being sent away is perhaps the most fortunate turn of fate that could have ever happened to him. In the years that have passed, Fang has been able to evolve from boy to man. Not by the chiseled hammer of cruelty and bloodthirst that his family had wanted for him, but by the gathering of experience and knowledge—through pain, joy, and sorrow, he has grown.
And yet, even after all this, the stallion still finds himself amazed by each grand capitol he finds himself in. He had not even seen a proper building until well into his travels, let alone an established city—Caeleste’s great capitol had been his first. Looking up now at the spires, their rooftops haloed by the rays of the setting sun, he remembers the first time he had seen such ornate architecture. There is a beauty there to appreciate, the meticulously-carved stone standing as regal as the mountains that rise in the distance.
But there is something natural and familiar about the wild that calls to him.
Unspoiled, untouched, where nature flourishes unchallenged.
He tells himself that it is his curiosity that has driven him here to Denocte’s capitol, and while that might be true, his memories remind him that it is more. He is weary of fighting for his life (every breath clawed, scratched, and fought for), drawn towards the city lights like a dying man to water. There is life truly being lived here, he realizes as he watches the people bustle through the streets, recognizing for the first time how starved he has been of the simplicity of normal life. How they leave their homes without wondering if they will return, how they wander without constantly glancing over their shoulder, how the steady approach of dusk doesn’t send them scurrying for shelter.
They live without fear of the Terrors, and he thanks them for it.
these lies are leading me astray its too much for me to stay
i don't wanna live this destiny it goes on endlessly
The greetings brought a smile to her face.
This is what she liked about Denocte, the sense of home she was developing the longer that she stayed her. Sure, some days were harder than others, some days, the past swirled so heavily in her head that she didn't want to so much as roll out of bed. But other days she could almost feel normal. Other days, her smiles came a little easier. The guilt would weigh a little less. The steps to forgiving herself, to healing the pain of loss, of her past; was just a little bit smoother, easier, happening faster. It was those days that were becoming Caelum's favorites. She reached for them eagerly, tried so hard to strive for them. Desperately reaching out to meet the day with the brighter smile, the knowledge she could do this.
And should she feel herself slipping?
She had a huge group of friends to support her. Syn, her beloved cousin would hold her up. Luvena would always be at her side, strong and steady and promising her she would be okay. Other friends rallied behind her, smiled to see her, delighted to know her. She had a support group, she had a family here. And the family extended further than just her collection of friends. She felt it now, as he walked through the markets of the city, laughing as others greeted her by name. Some asked her how her shop was doing, to which the newly appointed tea maker was quick to tell them about how things were going. Others promised to drop her off new pastries for her to sell at her shop, for the normal percentage fee. Another mentioned that they'd heard of another entertainer looking for a place to host them, and Caelum would collect their name, where they could be found, so she could invite them for a night to use Faerie Gardens Emporium as a venue.
It was her way of giving back to the kingdom that saved her.
Who is that, the strange red one? She was starting to hear the curious questions, and finally, Caelum sought to try to find the answer herself, only to see a curious stranger, and she frowned uncertainly at his appearance. Not an individual she knew, and she knew a lot of Denocte. She started forward and pondered if maybe she did flirt with trouble as Boleyn suggested with her tendency to greet strangers. But this was a stranger that, as she came closer; seemed to stand in awe of the people moving about, to their proud little city. The fae fluttered along the streets, her feet never touching the ground, least she have flowers bloom up with each step - annoying little things. "Pardon me!" She called in casual greeting, coming closer, but stopping at a respectable distance, wings fluttering to keep her aloft, as she smiled, friendly and welcoming, "I apologize for approaching without warning, but you appear a touch out of it. I just wished to check that you were alright." She explained.
Perhaps introductions would help too.
Her smile remained warm, friendly, and open, "My name is Caelum, I am a medic and the owner of the Tea Shop Faerie Gardens Emporium on the bank of Vitreus Lake. I do not believe I have seen you around Denocte before, are you new to our humble home?" She asked, curious, wondering, and never losing the polite, regal quality to her speech, to the way she stood, as if having attention on her was no strange feat as if she were in a proper setting, a high society party, a ballroom, a courtroom of a palace, rather than among the markets of Denocte. But then again, she'd been raised to always keep that best presentation of yourself in the forefront, and very few could ever get her to drop the regal, aristocratic persona she dawned in public.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Fang Notes: Was planning on replying in the morning, but couldn't get any sleep, so now i am trying to exhaust myself to sleep haha
i see you so please stay strong
i'll sing you one last song and then i'm gone
i don't wanna live this destiny it goes on endlessly
He is quickly caught up in the modesty of it all. It has been far, far too long; Fang had all but forgotten what it is like to live without the incessant weight of fear looming to cloud one’s mind. For months he has been on edge, constantly on alert, unable to rest—not wondering if monsters existed to threaten his people, but knowing that they were there and only trying to stop them before they unleashed their bloody fury on his home. He still cannot shake his guard—the Terrors have left their mark on him, body and mind—but seeing the people here live so normally is like a balm on an old wound he forgot was aching.
“Pardon me!”
Fang is startled when someone directs their attention to him, the shadow of his smile fading as rounded ears prick forward and ember eyes widen as though he’s been caught. A delicate mare flutters toward him, carried by unique wings he has only ever seen the likes of once before, and wearing a grin as warm as her brown eyes. Still, her amiability does little to diminish the embarrassment that twists his gut. Realizing how strange he must have seemed (marveling at them, just living their lives), the stallion shifts self-consciously, his leathery wings pressing closer to his sides before they relax again.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stare; it’s just, I—” he fumbles, because what is he supposed to say? That he’s been haunted by ruthless beasts for so long that he envies the ease with which they go about their lives? What a way to introduce himself. “I’m new here, yes,” he settles for lamely, hoping he doesn’t come off as awkward as he feels.
Clearing his throat, Fang attempts to gather some shred of composure. “A pleasure to meet you, Caelum, and thank you for your welcome. I haven’t explored much of Denocte yet, but what I’ve seen of your humble home is really quite beautiful,” russet lips twist around his pointed canines in a soft smile. The gesture doesn’t come as easily as it once did—his grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and the lines of his expression have been weathered by grief—but his warmth is still genuine. “I’m anxious to see more—maybe I’ll even stop by your tea shop sometime. By the lake, you said?” His grin twists a little more to one side. He knows the lake, in a way. That is where he had first found himself in Novus, ousted unceremoniously from one world to another, safe at last but utterly alone.
(Adira, his heart cries, did you make it out too?)
Not comfortable feeling so raw in the company of a stranger, the red stallion swallows his sorrow with another ghost of a smile. “My name is Fang, by the way,” he inclines his head to the blue mare, blinking away the curls that have inevitably fallen over his eyes.
these lies are leading me astray its too much for me to stay
i don't wanna live this destiny it goes on endlessly
She called out curiously.
He seems startled, and she can't help but offer a smile, as she approaches, trying to remain friendly, confident but kind. She knew how difficult it could be coming to a new area, coming into a new land, a new city, a new way of life. And she hoped to set the odd stallion at ease. The embarrassment coloring his features, the self-conscious movements, wings drawing closer in; and she wants to help soothe what must be concerning him.
His apology was quickly shaken away.
"Oh, it is perfectly all right, you do not need to apologize. I am well aware that our home is quite the . . . . unique sight. When I first came to this land, well it was quite the start for me as well. It took me a while to not stare in wonder at how alive it all was. You are not the first to stare, and I am quite certain you shall not be the last. So do not worry." She stated gently, soothingly, even as he confirmed his newness to Denocte.
He seems to gather himself together though.
She smiles reassuringly, even as she listens to him admit that Denocte was rather beautiful, something that she would agree with easily, but there was something off to his smile, like an old piece of clothing that no longer fit properly. She didn't touch, didn't dig into that, though. Everyone in Denocte had secrets, even she was aware of that. "Yes, by the lake. It is the only building out there, so it will be rather easy to spot. And, if I may be so boastful, you will be pressed to find a better cup of tea anywhere in Novus." She stated, her eyes shining with pride.
But she still sees it.
The sorrow, the grief. It was the same emotions that hides behind her warmth, when she's alone in her room, or when Luvena and her start talking too deep, too real. It's her own knowledge with those emotions that keep her from pressing, even if she feels concerned, worried. He introduced himself, and she commits it to memory - Fang, a simpler name than many she'd heard of in these lands in her years of being here. The fae still smiles, "A pleasure to meet you as well, Fang. Please, let me know if you have any questions about Denocte. I am fairly well acquainted to the Court by now. And I am always happy to assist anyone in finding their footing here."
And perhaps, if she got to know him more, she'd find out why he wears grief so strongly.
“You’re very kind,” Fang offers her another smile, telling himself that the gesture doesn’t look as hollow as it feels (he wills his lips to twist a little wider, his eyes to crinkle a little more at the corners, wishing it to come as effortlessly as it once had). The lighthearted boy still lives, somewhere, beneath all of the pain and despair that have been shackled to his shoulders. His eyes dart to the side as two young foals bound past them, giggling in a game of chase, and he feels a flutter of something hopeful in the aching of his chest. He can’t remember the last time he saw children able to play so freely.
His gaze is brimming with more emotion than he intends when the red stallion returns his attention to Caelum. Glancing to the stone beneath his feet, he blinks quickly before looking up again, rounded ears tipping forward to hear her describe her tea shop. Noting the pride in her tone, Fang can’t help the little smile that skews his dark lips. “I believe you,” he says, amused, with something that’s almost a chuckle in his voice. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to enjoy a cup of tea,” he treads carefully now, resisting the flood of memories that rises in his mind, and their throng of emotions that wait to ravage him with times long-lost.
What have I become? He laments quietly, looking to the fairy-like stranger and wondering what she can see in him, wondering how translucent his paper-thin façade really is.
Knowing he has never been a good liar, Fang is grateful for Caelum’s discretion. She receives him graciously, explaining her familiarity with this new world—this new court—and offers him her aid. With a bruised heart that has been skinned and left bleeding, her generosity feels familiar and warm.
“I have a lot of questions,” the stallion admits, almost sheepish. “Maybe you could show me around the city?” He tips his head forward, allowing her to shepherd him through the streets, if she is willing to be his guide. It is a simple request, one that gives him a few moments to sort through his thoughts. “What…” Fang hesitates, trying to decide where to start. “What is Novus like? Is there more than one empire?—uh, court? If so, then what separates one court from another?” He recalls Caeleste, and how each empire had been divided into seasons by their patron deity. Are gods as relevant here as they had been at home?
Here, would the gods die for their people?
Reminded of the demise of his beloved goddess, Fang presses his lips together, seeing the darkness and its monsters again as the images flash unbidden in his mind. Vasanta had given him life again, only to sacrifice Her own. The war of the Terrors had raged and ruined everything that lived, so powerful was the devastation that even the divine could not be spared from the hungry shadows. His heart still races at the memories, so he glances away, barely able to whisper the words for fear of the answer:
these lies are leading me astray its too much for me to stay
i don't wanna live this destiny it goes on endlessly
His words produce a small smile.
Kind, was she really though? Was she really, truly kind; or was that the face she put forward, the stately fae-queen facade she had worn since she was old enough to acknowledge that she had to behave differently in public. TO put her best hoof forward. To smile beguile at the people, to wave, and graciously greet everyone who comes to visit. To always look presentable, refreshed, elegant, lovely. Even now, even today; the runaway Queen she was; she couldn't knock back those habits. She couldn't be the way she was raised. Now, those praises of her people rang like scorn through her head. The people's queen. The beloved flower. The light of summer. It felt like a joke, or perhaps, her facade was the joke.
She is careful not to show any of this on her features.
Where his face betrays everything, Caelum has mastered the art of hiding her emotions. Few can see into the depths of those chocolate eyes and allowed a glimpse at the turmoil that swims beneath the surface. Few see the hues soften to almost a caramel when she's feeling tender affection for another, others aren't allowed to watch that chocolate turn as dark as ink when she's struggling to contain her ire. Those eyes no longer reflect her emotions so freely, she's become a carved, porcelain doll with a painted-on smile, refusing to unbury those emotions, still hurting from the last time she'd let it come ripping free with Luvena. But, it's no longer from a desire to keep it bottled up.
She was healing now, finally.
But, for her own safety, she gave plenty of rest before unraveling each emotion-filled, heart-wrenching string; saying goodbye to a struggled memory of pain, so she could smile once more at the memories trapped behind the heartbreak. Each venture into her own head was difficult, would leave her a zombie for a day or so after, and carefully concealing her emotions for another week, as she healed enough to do that next deep dive. But it was helping. Arson's memories brought smiles. She could laugh at the antics of Calico. She could now hum the lullabies her parents once sang to her. It progressed, thanks to Luvena's support in letting herself heal.
Did this stallion need that same healing?
She smiled a little more readily, watching him stretch his smile wider, and her tone is gentle, "You do not need to try so hard . . . to smile. Many of Denocte come from broken pasts, from heartache, or troubles. You will not be judged here if your smile does not reach your eyes." She soothed gently, and she doesn't hesitate to reach out, to touch his shoulder gently, "We are a people who do not judge." She assured. Two foals burst past, and Caelum jumps slightly, wings buzzing. In a moment of her startle, flowers blossom around her crown, petals shedding around her ears, down her mane, as her magic feeds of the momentary letting go of her emotions. But she smiles at the sight. Even a few weeks ago, the sight of children would have contracted her heart, memories of her own child who hadn't been allowed to grow old enough to run with others and to learn to play.
She glances back to the stallion.
She pauses, seeing the emotion in his eyes, wondering just what all he might be thinking. At his words, she smiled warmly, her eyes brightening briefly at the idea of another customer - another piece of proof that she could be successful in her ventures of getting her shop off the ground, "Well, please feel free to stop by. I am fairly certain I can convince the owner to allow you the first cup for free." She offered, with a friendly and playful wink. Her actions were the true definition of friendly, rather than flirtatious. The casual companionship, that came from being so deeply connected to Denocte that she sought to help include anyone into settling into the home she treasured so much.
At his sheepish admission, Caelum tilts her head.
Her smile isn't judging, but rather understanding, "I would have been surprised if you did not. But I've also known new immigrants who felt the need to figure out what this kingdom is like on their own. However, I would take great delight in showing you around." She finally lands onto the pavement, a small collection of flowers blooming up where each hoof falls, leaving a trail of the wildflower behind her. She rolls her eyes when one of the vendors calls out a friendly, "You wanna stop by my garden and dance around it, Miss Caelum? Sure would make my wife happy to see flowers again, Caligo knows I can't keep them alive for her." The mare rolls her eyes in amusement, even as she feels the embarrassment of leaving the trail of flowers. But it is easier to lead from ground level than flight.
She'd sacrifice a bit of comfort to help a new member.
He asks a question then, what Novus is like, about if there was more than one court, what separates them? She is thoughtful for a moment, "Novus is full of all kinds, but there are four official Courts. Night Court, which makes our home in Denocte. To the North of us, is the Day Court, which lives in Solterra. It is mostly a large desert, really. I am not too fond of it. For a summer fae, even that heat is a bit much for me. To the West, on the other side of the Terminus Sea is Dusk Court, which lives in Terrastella, and to the North-West of us, on the opposite side of the continent is the Dawn Court that makes their home in Delumine. Most of the lands are separated by geological features. For example, the Arma mountain range is our defensive barrier, as typically only those of our kingdom know the safe paths to travel through it. However, those of us with wings have a minor advantage if we were to slip and fall from a cliff." She teased with a soft smile.
She then looks around the markets, the kingdom.
Denocte is so much more alive now, so much more free feeling. She pauses by the Citadel, nodding to it, "This is the royal home of our sovereign, Israfel. A gracious queen, if I may say so myself, but I am a little more fond of her girlfriend; as Luvena is one of my dearest friends." She stated with a laugh before her gaze turns back to the kingdom that is now spread out around them from this center point over looking it all. "Down in the Market place you shall be hard-pressed to not find something you are looking for there. I am told our markets are so vast and impressive, they draw in members of other courts to sell their wares as well. The Plains are over that way, rolling hills that are lovely no matter the time of day - and of course the Lake, that I am rather partial to myself, seeing as it is where I have decided to call home."
She glances back at Fang then, her smile gentler.
This time she looks at him with the softness of understanding, "Novus is not always a peaceful place, we have had our own spells of issues that crop up of course . . . but, I have found that in those moments, all of Novus will rise up to help each other out. But, here; in Denocte; we live in relative peace yes. But I think that is more for the way that Denocte is ran. We see ourselves as a collection of misfits, oftentimes. But, that also means Denocte is a place that offers second chances, a safe place for those of us who need healing to receive it. To learn to smile and laugh again; when we no longer thought it was possible."
She smiles reassuringly before her gaze drifts back to the land.
"It has given me a second chance, and I am rather certain if you were to look for it, yourself; it would offer you a place too. Where you will no longer have to worry, and can relearn how to smile fully again. If only you let it."
More than anything, Fang is embarrassed by how easy it is for the fairy mare to read him. He can feel all of it—the pain screaming in his somber eyes, the grief that wails behind his fragile smile, the despair that clambers up from his wounded heart and into every line of his expression. “You do not need to try so hard…to smile,” Caelum says to him, with nothing but kindness in her voice, but there is a part of the boy that wants to laugh because he doesn’t want to try so hard. I’m tired of not smiling, his heart replies with a twisting thump-thump in his gaping chest.
He wills himself to relax, suddenly acutely aware of the muscles in his face, and tries to keep himself from appearing too concerned before their conversation, mercifully, goes on to change topic.
Caelum is visibly excited at the mention of her tea shop, which allows Fang’s focus to shift from himself. She even jokes with him, and so he is able to offer his first genuine chuckle in a long, long time; it feels raspy in his throat, but there is something familiar still. “I will have to take you up on that,” he says with the corners of his lips curling slightly, debating for half a moment about returning her playful wink—a lighthearted gesture he has done himself on many occasions—but quickly decides he is not ready for that yet. First, he needs to find his smile again.
For now, he settles for a fragile skew of his lips. “I appreciate your willingness to help me,” he nods his head, watching as the fairy mare alights nimbly on the ground to escort him through the city streets. But then— “Flowers?” Fang can’t help but murmur to himself, the word so soft that it goes unnoticed before they begin their journey. Sure enough, wherever she places her foot, there blooms a collect of flowers to grow in her wake. They are beautiful, dainty little things, and he can only imagine the wonder they must exude after their spontaneous beginning. Given his affinity towards plant life, due to the magic he once held, he is delighted by this little surprise, and finds himself glancing often at the small blossoms as they wander towards the heart of the city.
She is liberal in her sharing of knowledge, for which the stallion is grateful. Novus is made up of four courts: Day in Solterra, Dusk in Terrastella, Dawn in Delumine, and Night here in Denocte. His ember eyes trail slowly along the spires of the citadel, wondering if he will ever meet the queen Israfel, and hoping that she is as compassionate as Caelum describes.
Remembering the repercussions of greedy and selfish leaders, Fang’s mouth pinches briefly. His fiery eyes linger a moment longer on the citadel, his thoughts tangled in the past, before they snap suddenly towards the markets and landscapes that his guide is now describing. He is haunted still, but manages a meager smile when Caelum mentions home. “I usually prefer open lands to cities myself,” he agrees, wondering why here? Why had he woken up here, in the middle of Denocte, of all the possible places in Novus?
It echoes: why here?“The way you describe Denocte, it sounds extraordinary—magical, even. It’s always a relief to hear that people are happy here, especially across different kingdoms. I…think I could use some peace and quiet,” Fang attempts a crooked grin, a sliver of vulnerability that rages through the raw wounds of his grief.
Swallowing against the dryness of his throat, the boy shifts his eyes over the sprawling streets, over the people milling through them together in a way that is so effortless he wants to laugh and cry all at once. Inhaling a long breath, he returns his gaze to the fairy woman. “I heard mention of ‘Caligo’—is that the god of Novus? I know gods are more significant in some worlds than others… Is there more than one here?” He’s not sure what answer he is hoping to hear, knowing that he won’t get the one he wants. His goddess is gone.
Home is gone.
“Where I came from,” a sudden wrench of his heart at the words, and a sad smile before he is able to continue, “the gods gifted their people with sorcery. Is that how it works here too? Or were you born with this ability?” Fang gestures with his chin towards the flowers that have collected around her hooves, wondering if he will be able to restore the magic he has lost—and wondering if he wants to. What will it be like, if not gifted from Vasanta? His shoulders lower beneath the weight of his despair before he looks to Caelum again. He remembers being able to speak like she does, with such adoration for one’s homeland that it becomes contagious. “It is obvious that this place is dear to you,” he tilts his head, a warmth of nostalgia in his gaze, “How long have you lived here yourself?”
these lies are leading me astray its too much for me to stay
i don't wanna live this destiny it goes on endlessly
Caelum could fee a sort of kinship growing.
She didn't know his story, where he came from; what his life was like before he arrived to Denocte. But she could recognize the fragility of his smile. She could see the despair in his face, she could read the grief, because she buried those exact same things. Where he wore his without hesitation, she buried hers as far as she could place it. Perhaps it was the difference in their pain, his embraced, hers hidden. Was that what kept her from being happy, from healing? Should she embrace her pain, would it help?
She doesn't want to think on that yet, though.
She was happy hiding if it meant she could avoid it, avoid the world, avoid the pain, avoid the suffering, avoid the memories. Fake a smile, just fake it until you make it. And she's been faking for so, so long. Her ears perked slowly, tilting her head as she watched him relax, allowing that soft smile to return her face. The topic changes, and she's delighted to bring the topic onto her teashop, her own expression showing the delight by the genuine chuckle he offers to her joke. The curl of his lips has her smiling back playfully, her eyes bright, playful, engaged; "Oh, please do. I am always delighted when company stops by the shop."
It meant a successful venture in making a place others wanted to visit.
She settles to the ground, hooves touching delicately, forcing herself to ignore the flowers that blossom at her hooves, the flowers brushing each ankle, as if to cling to the embodiment of Summer as she moves through Denocte. This is a yearning in her heart when she sees them, remembering how they'd trail behind her parents, how she'd play in the flowers her mother would grow for her. A heavy weight in the pit of her belly, knowing that the ability passing to her now was proof there was no other to sit on the thrown of Summer.
Just her, and she wasn't ready for it.
Her ears perked as she walked, turning her gaze away from them, but she can't help but notice his reaction - his glances towards the blossoms. She shifts, almost shyly at the attention, "I apologize, for the blossoms. I am afraid I cannot turn them off." She admits, even as a faint bloom of blossoms around her crown peak through the ivory mane as it falls around her blue-hued neck, and she turns her attention back to being a proper tour guide, telling him all she could think of. When he speaks of preferring the open lands, she smiles at the knowledge that someone else preferred the peace of nature to the bustle of the city life.
When he speaks, she glances back towards him, noting the grin.
The vulnerability that highlights it. "I think we all could use some peace and quiet." She agreed after a moment, but this time her smile was lost, her gaze staring out at the distance, and for a moment, the fae queen visibly showed her own heaviness, the weight that sat squarely on her shoulders. The shame she felt for running so desperately from her homelands, for everything that had happened, and how her people still loved her.
She has to force her smile back, but it soon comes back to life.
To light, bright, gentle, perfect. The perfect image, the perfect daughter, the perfect princess. How fake it was, yet how well she could portray it. When the beast beside her speaks again, she glances up at him, and perhaps for the first time, she's glad he's ruby in hue, knowing had he been as dark as her beloved, his appearance would have been painful to take in. Instead she holds those differences in highlight. He asks of Caligo, and she smiles slightly, "In Novus, there are five gods. Caligo is the patron goddess of Denocte. Oriens protects Delumine, Solis watches over Solterra, and Vespera hails Terrastella. And Tempus over us all." She explains after a quiet moment, "I am not, however, familiar with the stories, or information on the gods. But there is a library in Delumine, that might tell you more. I would be more than happy to show you to it, I am rather fond of libraries, myself." She added after a brief nod.
She looks up when he asks about magic.
She feels her heart drop, feels a lump in her throat, and she swallows around it a few times as she looks down at the flowers, "Many . . . in Novus, get their gifts from the gods. My magic . . . is not the same. I am a true faerie, my magic stems from that." Her wings flutter nervously, and as the fairy dust touches the flowers, they seem to multiply for a short moment, "My gifts are . . . perhaps the last token from my parents. A reminder of . . . what I could not be." And then he asks another hard question, her gut twisting, "Many years now, long enough to allow me feel great fondness for it. It's not . . . my homelands . . . but it is home."
She just prayed she'd never destroy this home too.
