05-07-2023, 11:26 PM
who could ever leave me, darling,
but who could stay?
but who could stay?
She finds that she had missed this—the company of strangers. To be with someone that she did not know, and they did not know her. Being alive for so long had caused Beqanna to feel small, and sometimes she could not help but to feel that nothing in her life was a secret anymore. It did not help that her story was often written so plainly across her body—eyes torn from her face and scarred sockets sitting empty or with magicked jewels, only for her impossibly dark eyes to later reappear; a brand on her hip; a scar across her chest.
Scars and rumors told her story more than her voice ever had, and there was really no such thing as secrets in this land anymore. Not for her.
So it was a refreshing change to meet someone that did not stare at the scar on her chest and know the events that had transpired around it, and whose gaze did not linger on the brand so boldly carved into her white hip and force her to ignore the questions that echoed in their eyes. She never knew what kind of answers they were looking for when they would ask about it, anyway—there is only one who left his mark so plainly on others, but the circumstances of how she acquired hers was impossible to put into a context that anyone besides the two of them would understand.
She nods her head to his first statement, but something alights in her eyes when he mentions the Chamber, a sudden warming ache filling her chest. She did not hold a particular fondness for the kingdom itself; just one of its kings.
“I’m familiar with the Chamber,” she says with a small, nearly-hidden smile, and for a moment she is distracted by the thought of yellow eyes set against a dark face, and a sharp-edged smile that always felt like it was solely for her. “Although the Valley was my home for the longest, and then later here, in the Dale,” she continues after she refocuses her gaze onto the stallion in front of her. “My name is Ryatah. I was not born here, as you were, but I came here when I was very young and never left.” It was strange to think that it had been nearly one hundred seventy years ago when she first followed Dhumin here—doe-eyed and unsure, with not a single clue what strange future lay waiting for her in this treacherously beautiful land.
“You are staying in the Dale, then?” she asks with a curious tip of her haloed head, and then moves to continue along the path she had been following, gesturing for him to accompany her as the light further fades and night begins to fall around them.
Scars and rumors told her story more than her voice ever had, and there was really no such thing as secrets in this land anymore. Not for her.
So it was a refreshing change to meet someone that did not stare at the scar on her chest and know the events that had transpired around it, and whose gaze did not linger on the brand so boldly carved into her white hip and force her to ignore the questions that echoed in their eyes. She never knew what kind of answers they were looking for when they would ask about it, anyway—there is only one who left his mark so plainly on others, but the circumstances of how she acquired hers was impossible to put into a context that anyone besides the two of them would understand.
She nods her head to his first statement, but something alights in her eyes when he mentions the Chamber, a sudden warming ache filling her chest. She did not hold a particular fondness for the kingdom itself; just one of its kings.
“I’m familiar with the Chamber,” she says with a small, nearly-hidden smile, and for a moment she is distracted by the thought of yellow eyes set against a dark face, and a sharp-edged smile that always felt like it was solely for her. “Although the Valley was my home for the longest, and then later here, in the Dale,” she continues after she refocuses her gaze onto the stallion in front of her. “My name is Ryatah. I was not born here, as you were, but I came here when I was very young and never left.” It was strange to think that it had been nearly one hundred seventy years ago when she first followed Dhumin here—doe-eyed and unsure, with not a single clue what strange future lay waiting for her in this treacherously beautiful land.
“You are staying in the Dale, then?” she asks with a curious tip of her haloed head, and then moves to continue along the path she had been following, gesturing for him to accompany her as the light further fades and night begins to fall around them.
Ryatah
@assailant