Fodbgen stood still. His ears attempting to hear more of what was around him, but failing to pick up anything. He nodded taking a knee to the ground.
“My apologies lord.”
It would not do to make excuses of what was plain to see.
Fodbgen stood still. His ears attempting to hear more of what was around him, but failing to pick up anything. He nodded taking a knee to the ground.
“My apologies lord.”
It would not do to make excuses of what was plain to see.
Setara tried to keep her focus on watching the leaders. Occasionally drifting to scan the crowds and following where other threads attached. Though with her attention again on the dais, she realized the boy was still up there. Weren’t they pulled around the same time? How had he not received the blessing yet?
Seeing that the chalice Conleth held was that of the sun, Setara’s confusion grew. Weren’t they saying he was supposed to be blessed by the Moon? Or was that all a ruse? Perhaps nothing would go as any mortal expects.
In this watch, Setara heard a soft, “Oh.”
Though weakened, it was still her mother’s voice. Soon followed by a hand being placed on her shoulder, before it moved gathered some of her hair.
“My sunshine’s rays…dying. Blotted,” her mother said.
Setara turned towards her mother to face her. Still close enough to hold the locks, Setara looked down at the hair her mother held. It was not the pale luster of gold she expected. Replaced by foreign darkness; a kind that made even the ravens look like a shade of blue or violet.
Then she looked past her mother, seeing the rest of the family having made it towards the front. They squinted and stared at her as though a stranger. Taking the alien black hair away from her mother, she stared at it again. She couldn’t blame them. Would she even recognize her own reflection now?
“Could you hide it in your hat?” Her mother asked.
Setara let go of her hair and looked at her mother in silence. Then turned away and resuming her mission - watching the leaders. She couldn’t bring herself to answer. If she dared to open her mouth, what would even come out? Wails? Screams? Not words, she was certain of that. And if words did pour forth, it was none she should say.
For the second time, she wished to have worn her armor. For the first time, she knew her mother would approve. Even still, holding her staff between her legs, she messed with her hair to move it more underneath the hat.
“Everything will work out, just not how we envisioned,” Setara said to her.
The detail on the chalice completely escaped Conleth’s limited attention span, so thoroughly enraptured by the rest of what was happening and the mystical air it possessed to think about how this was not at all what he envisioned. It was all toeing the line between fantastical and frightening, just familiar enough to awe and amaze him without spooking him in the process.
And then the stranger appeared in the corner of his vision. His head turned almost all the way to fully observe the colorful figure, but it abruptly snapped back to position as the reminder that he was in the middle of a very important ceremony smashed into his skull. Regret over not having gotten any better of a glimpse was quickly overpowered by the warm sensation that flowed into his fingertips not from the temperature of the liquid, but by its very nature.
Deeply inhaling, Conleth raised the chalice to his lips and began to drink, wondering as he did so if there was any indication as to when exactly he was supposed to stop.
Tabor didn’t know how to feel, he was dumbfounded. He was just moments from death before Solar spoke up, ending the rage of Sol.
Slowly he brought his hands to his face and his the tears that came forth from the ordeal. He remained this way for several minutes, trying to compose himself. Reaching into his pocket he removed the flask. Looking at it, he came to the realization that he despised what he had become.
Removing the lid, he poured the remaining alcohol onto the steps before returning the empty flask to its hiding place once more.