09-05-2020, 11:10 PM
l e p i s
gave me the blues and then purple pink skies
He affirms that he seeks a home, but for a long time that is all he says. He takes careful time to fold his dripping wings to his sides. She does not look away, so when he admits to being reared as a warrior, Lepis has already found the marks of that in the scars on his cloud-colored hide.
A knight, she thinks, someone with training and skill. Someone capable of defending a kingdom. Loess is in desperate need of those, and the wings that he holds behind his smoothly muscled shoulders suggest that he will have an easy time of escaping the inevitable fire. The details he provides after serve only to illuminate his ability, and Lepis finds herself wondering why Fate has placed such an interesting man in Loess. (She quickly dismisses the possibility that the ancestors are involved. They’d touched her too recently.)
He logic is sound, the queen thinks, Loess does seem the best place in Beqanna for a man of his talents and ambition.
“I’m not sure we’ve ever had a knight in Loess.” She tells him. “But perhaps if Oceane can teach you some manners, we might make use of you in the guard.” She says this lightly, imagining the Queen of the South attempting to impart Tarian with the same lessons she had given Kestrell and Altum. The image amuses her, and Lepis smiles.
“My son, Kestrell, is nearly old enough to start training. Perhaps you might assess what he already knows, and tell the both of us where I have been remiss in my early lessons.” Lepis is no warrior, but in the absence of one she has taught Kestrell what she can remember. She is quite sure the boy shows promise, but only time will tell.
Lepis steps out of the pool and begins to walk farther down the narrow canyon. That she expects Tarian to follow her lead seems clear, for as they walk she tells him of Loess and its founding, of her mother’s ascension and then her father’s rule. With an impressive amount of neutrality, she speaks of the childhood betrothal that had given Arthas control of Loess, and how he bequeathed it to Wolfbane, who entrusted it to Vulgaris, who passed it in turn to Castile again. A listing of kings, she finds herself thinking, though only under queens has the South been an Empire.
The path she has led them down seems to end in shadowed wall, but Lepis does not stop. The thick yellow and green leaves that climb the red canyon form a living wall to a deep stone overhang. Pressing through the vines and leaves, Lepis breathes a quiet sigh of relief at the suddenly cooler temperature here in the shaded cavern. The leaves the cover the opening filter the light, changing the red of the world to a hazy lime.
“Would you tell me about the Beyond?” She asks, lulled by the coolness and still satisfied by her long drink. “I’ve been once, to a place that was an infinite meadow, but I have heard of other places.”
@[Tarian]
A knight, she thinks, someone with training and skill. Someone capable of defending a kingdom. Loess is in desperate need of those, and the wings that he holds behind his smoothly muscled shoulders suggest that he will have an easy time of escaping the inevitable fire. The details he provides after serve only to illuminate his ability, and Lepis finds herself wondering why Fate has placed such an interesting man in Loess. (She quickly dismisses the possibility that the ancestors are involved. They’d touched her too recently.)
He logic is sound, the queen thinks, Loess does seem the best place in Beqanna for a man of his talents and ambition.
“I’m not sure we’ve ever had a knight in Loess.” She tells him. “But perhaps if Oceane can teach you some manners, we might make use of you in the guard.” She says this lightly, imagining the Queen of the South attempting to impart Tarian with the same lessons she had given Kestrell and Altum. The image amuses her, and Lepis smiles.
“My son, Kestrell, is nearly old enough to start training. Perhaps you might assess what he already knows, and tell the both of us where I have been remiss in my early lessons.” Lepis is no warrior, but in the absence of one she has taught Kestrell what she can remember. She is quite sure the boy shows promise, but only time will tell.
Lepis steps out of the pool and begins to walk farther down the narrow canyon. That she expects Tarian to follow her lead seems clear, for as they walk she tells him of Loess and its founding, of her mother’s ascension and then her father’s rule. With an impressive amount of neutrality, she speaks of the childhood betrothal that had given Arthas control of Loess, and how he bequeathed it to Wolfbane, who entrusted it to Vulgaris, who passed it in turn to Castile again. A listing of kings, she finds herself thinking, though only under queens has the South been an Empire.
The path she has led them down seems to end in shadowed wall, but Lepis does not stop. The thick yellow and green leaves that climb the red canyon form a living wall to a deep stone overhang. Pressing through the vines and leaves, Lepis breathes a quiet sigh of relief at the suddenly cooler temperature here in the shaded cavern. The leaves the cover the opening filter the light, changing the red of the world to a hazy lime.
“Would you tell me about the Beyond?” She asks, lulled by the coolness and still satisfied by her long drink. “I’ve been once, to a place that was an infinite meadow, but I have heard of other places.”