02-28-2023, 01:25 AM
i never wanted saving, i just wanted to be found --
He seems perturbed by the information she delivers him, which she cannot help but be a little amused by. She is far younger than him—not that he gives the appearance of being old, thanks to his immortality, but it is evident they were born in different eras—and she has never known the older kingdoms that everyone was so fond of. She has relatives that would remember places such as the Chamber, Valley, and Dale, but for the most part it is only stories of the newer kingdoms that she grew up on. The Tephra-Loess war, the shifters of Hyaline, and the blighted land that was Carnage’s Pangea. They had each woven their own tapestry of stories, ushering in new kings and queens and bloodlines, new traditions and reputations.
And they all sat now beneath the sea, and only time would tell if they had left as indelible a mark as the old lands had.
“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter that you’ve never heard of them, since they’re gone now,” she says rather dismissively, though her somewhat casual words betray the discontent she actually feels. It would be a lie to say that she does not miss Tephra; how could she not? She had been born there, as had all of her siblings. It was the first, and so far only place, that she had truly known as home. “Not that what we’ve been left with is an improvement.” They are lucky there is anything left at all, she knows this, and she knows too that she should be grateful that navigating the water is not as difficult for her as it might be for some.
But she misses the way it used to be.
She misses the variety in terrain and the vastness of the land; the forest and canyons, the rivers and dales. She misses how the very strangeness of this place would lure in outsiders and they had no choice but to stay, enraptured by her magic and longing to find a way to land themselves as a name in her history.
She knows no other land besides Beqanna, but she knows it is a unique place.
Always changing, always dying like a phoenix only to rise again from its own ashes.
She hopes that this time the ashes have come in the form of water, and that a new Beqanna will find a way to rebuild from this disaster.
He presses into her and she does not move away, finding that she enjoys the sensation of her frosted scales melting beneath his warmth. There is a strange sensation that races up the ridge of her spine, and this time instead of pretending she had not noticed his touch she fixes him with a coy stare, her lovely head tipping to the side with a coquettish smile. “You’ve been gone so long that you crave the touch of a woman, even if she is cold?” The words are spoken with the lilt of a laugh but she still does not shift away, settling in instead to enjoy this unexpected company that she has found.
“No,” she says with a plaintive sigh and a slight roll of her vibrant eyes. “My parents are…protective. And they said that since we don’t know why Baltia and Stratos are at war that I should stay away.” It sounds childish to say such a thing out loud; she is, after all, an adult. But loving families were a rarity in this place, and she had been lucky enough to be born into one. As much as she loathed it at times, her parents’ warnings—specifically her father’s—echoed in her mind every time she considered going to Baltia. “I think my father thinks they’d try to keep me there. As a prisoner, or souvenir. He loves worst-case scenarios.” From what she has gathered, Baltia did not care about much outside of its war with Stratos; Beqanna was just an unfortunate bystander.
“Where will you go, Assailant? If the Pampas does not entice you, will you haunt the common lands instead?”
And they all sat now beneath the sea, and only time would tell if they had left as indelible a mark as the old lands had.
“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter that you’ve never heard of them, since they’re gone now,” she says rather dismissively, though her somewhat casual words betray the discontent she actually feels. It would be a lie to say that she does not miss Tephra; how could she not? She had been born there, as had all of her siblings. It was the first, and so far only place, that she had truly known as home. “Not that what we’ve been left with is an improvement.” They are lucky there is anything left at all, she knows this, and she knows too that she should be grateful that navigating the water is not as difficult for her as it might be for some.
But she misses the way it used to be.
She misses the variety in terrain and the vastness of the land; the forest and canyons, the rivers and dales. She misses how the very strangeness of this place would lure in outsiders and they had no choice but to stay, enraptured by her magic and longing to find a way to land themselves as a name in her history.
She knows no other land besides Beqanna, but she knows it is a unique place.
Always changing, always dying like a phoenix only to rise again from its own ashes.
She hopes that this time the ashes have come in the form of water, and that a new Beqanna will find a way to rebuild from this disaster.
He presses into her and she does not move away, finding that she enjoys the sensation of her frosted scales melting beneath his warmth. There is a strange sensation that races up the ridge of her spine, and this time instead of pretending she had not noticed his touch she fixes him with a coy stare, her lovely head tipping to the side with a coquettish smile. “You’ve been gone so long that you crave the touch of a woman, even if she is cold?” The words are spoken with the lilt of a laugh but she still does not shift away, settling in instead to enjoy this unexpected company that she has found.
“No,” she says with a plaintive sigh and a slight roll of her vibrant eyes. “My parents are…protective. And they said that since we don’t know why Baltia and Stratos are at war that I should stay away.” It sounds childish to say such a thing out loud; she is, after all, an adult. But loving families were a rarity in this place, and she had been lucky enough to be born into one. As much as she loathed it at times, her parents’ warnings—specifically her father’s—echoed in her mind every time she considered going to Baltia. “I think my father thinks they’d try to keep me there. As a prisoner, or souvenir. He loves worst-case scenarios.” From what she has gathered, Baltia did not care about much outside of its war with Stratos; Beqanna was just an unfortunate bystander.
“Where will you go, Assailant? If the Pampas does not entice you, will you haunt the common lands instead?”
adriana
@assailant