The hinges on her frame creaked and groaned as her body slowly unwound itself from the contortion it had placed itself in during her restless sleep. Koto rubbed her eyes, shedding the built up dirt and dust from her eyelashes, her joints shifting as she stretched her lithe frame. The cot beneath her sagged as she shifted her weight off of it. She mumbled incoherently, before her voice finally took shape, a high sound, like a wind being pushed through a flute.
“…Tink? Where are you?”
Koto muttered, as her metal feet slid against the uneven cobbles beneath her. She looked around the expansive area, looking for the little creature. The structure was swollen with flowers, piles of them here and there. A mewling sound to her right alerted Koto to Tinks presence. The little creature burst from a pile of petals, skittering up and leaping onto her shoulder. Tink was rather peculiar, a black, white furred animal, almost catlike, with wide, white eyes and pointed ears.
“Oh…there you are.”
Koto smiled faintly. Her fingers stretched out to scratch the top of Tink’s head softly, the iron joints shifting and clicking within each digit. She sat down, crossing her legs. Tink slunk down her shoulder and into her lap, curling up into a small, furry ball. The sensation was pleasant, what with Tinks warm body against her cold hands. Now, Koto’s appearance, could be considered rather strange in comparison to the norm- Her skin, or what could be considered skin- was the color of polished dark gold porcelain, with the occasional grey streak or crack marring it. Her irises were as black as midnight, the kind that looked like they were attached to something caught teetering on the brink of life and death. But she also had the kind of face that easily smiled or frowned, the kind of eyes that sparkled with excitement or became watery when dreary moods took her. Her hair was heavy and thick, with beads interwoven into the occasional strand. Koto kept sitting, her hand still subconsciously scratching Tink’s ears, as she became lost in thought. For a while she remained like this, before Tink suddenly bolted up and started to scratch at the iron door that sat between their abode and the rest of the city. She looked towards the door, then back at Tink. Then again.
“Promise you won’t run off without me again?”
She asked, staring at Tink with her dark eyes. It had been quite the mess when Tink had first wandered off, the initial panic attack, then trying to find the little one all over the city, and ultimately, finding them scratching at the door to her abode. She had given them quite the reprimand, but even then, Tink still didn’t seem to care. Koto wondered if they even understood her. She sighed, before grabbing her blue cloak, and wrapping it around her. Tink, of course understanding what the blue cloak meant, leaped back onto her shoulder.
“Heh…I guess there’s no way to change your mind, huh?”
She smiled.
Then, Koto grasped the door, undid the heavy iron and steel locks, and tugged it open.
Fenix was worried. How could he not be? He had waited for so long for this moment. This prophecy. This child…they were prophesied to join the ranks. Practically divined by the gods themselves… But then why did he feel so sick about all of it? It should be aggrandizing, not dreadful. And yet… As he stared up at the statue of the moon, glaring down at him, he dared to think of the possibility of a repeat in his history.
It hadn’t been the first time such a tragedy struck.
Fenix could be personified as someone too young to be so stern, and at such a time in everyone’s highest spirits in the city of Tide. His face looked as if it had been carved straight from pure granite, his jaw sharp and his eyes stormy. His skin was like the color that of gilded bronze and spun copper, and his silver hair was short and choppy. He wore armor that gleamed silver in the light, the emblems of the moon shining bright under the light of the night. The observatory was his usual quiet place, where he could stare off into the distance and his thoughts wouldn’t be constantly interrupted by the stench of incense or the murmur of prayer, or the laughing in the mess hall.
“What’s on your mind?”
Shidris asked. The prophet leaned against him. She looked exhausted, more than ever. To be fair, however, so did Fenix. She blinked slowly, her golden hair obscuring her face slightly. Comparably, she was a complete opposite to him. She lived for the crowd. Her hair was long and thin, and so was her frame. Her eyes shone like amber, rich and caramelesque.
Fenix frowned. He looked away from her. He thought for a moment.
“What if…what if this ceremony doesn’t go right?”
“And why wouldn’t it?”
She replied quickly. Despite her apparent exhaustion, she still had her silver tongue.
She cocked her head to the side, looking up at him.
“I swear, even when we were children…”
Shidris smirked, before shaking her head.
“You were anxious about everything.”
“For a good reason!”
Fenix retorted, crossing his arms.
“I never said it wasn’t.”
She grinned stupidly. Fenix suppressed the urge to punch her shoulder. Gods, even now, she still brought out him as he was when he was just a foolish child. How was he supposed to do anything alongside her when she pulled stuff like this? And then he’d have to save her.
“You’re atrocious…”
He mumbled. She promptly nodded.
"Anyway, don’t worry. I’m sure, whatever happens, you’ll survive. You’re pretty good at doing that.
It’ll be fine."
…
So, uhh, yeah. This is what I’ve been working on… it’s not perfect, but just a small introduction to some of the characters to come.