Sol
What am I supposed to do when I want to talk about peace and understanding
But you only understand the language of violence?
But you only understand the language of violence?
Sol’s red-and-gold eyes shifted smoothly between them, fascinated by the similarities between mother and daughter. The original wound, Sol would probably never recover from her mother’s sudden disappearance; of course, she had no idea about the deal Nocturnal made with Death to bring her back and no memory of a hell where she was ripped apart and put back together again by unimaginable monsters.
In Beqanna, she had simply been another orphan.
In reality, she had been saved by her dragon mother’s final act of love.
She grinned at the Queen’s question despite herself, revealing rows of sharp, too-white teeth. Her mother’s history lessons would finally prove useful for something, for once. “My mother always spoke highly of The Chamber—she was a princess herself here, once. Her father was Tatter. And his father was Set. And his mother was Starlace. His father was her General, Chain. Starlace’s mother was Lady in Red.”
Generation after generation of Chamber royalty.
Tatter had died with no real heir, and it seemed The Chamber’s glory had gone with him.
“You have no army,” Sol stated matter-of-factly, meeting the Queen’s stare. She didn’t move for a while, not until she broke the stillness with a sharp flick of her tail. While scouting above them, Sol had noticed the distinct lack of bodies besides the other species that called The Chamber their home. “You have no real defenses. If I wanted to, I could tear straight through you.”
She considered the Queen’s reaction to her words with the slow, careful calculation of an apex predator. Ready to spring away should the other mare become overwhelmed by her ire. “I want to be your army,” Sol stated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I think you’re capable of restoring The Chamber to what it was. I have no interest in it beyond that; I am terrible at politics, but I am very good at dealing with problems.”
No Crosses Count x Nocturnal
In Beqanna, she had simply been another orphan.
In reality, she had been saved by her dragon mother’s final act of love.
She grinned at the Queen’s question despite herself, revealing rows of sharp, too-white teeth. Her mother’s history lessons would finally prove useful for something, for once. “My mother always spoke highly of The Chamber—she was a princess herself here, once. Her father was Tatter. And his father was Set. And his mother was Starlace. His father was her General, Chain. Starlace’s mother was Lady in Red.”
Generation after generation of Chamber royalty.
Tatter had died with no real heir, and it seemed The Chamber’s glory had gone with him.
“You have no army,” Sol stated matter-of-factly, meeting the Queen’s stare. She didn’t move for a while, not until she broke the stillness with a sharp flick of her tail. While scouting above them, Sol had noticed the distinct lack of bodies besides the other species that called The Chamber their home. “You have no real defenses. If I wanted to, I could tear straight through you.”
She considered the Queen’s reaction to her words with the slow, careful calculation of an apex predator. Ready to spring away should the other mare become overwhelmed by her ire. “I want to be your army,” Sol stated, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I think you’re capable of restoring The Chamber to what it was. I have no interest in it beyond that; I am terrible at politics, but I am very good at dealing with problems.”
sol