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Post by Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed on May 5, 2020 3:17:21 GMT
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The Summer Side of Life
30th of Tarsakh to 4th of Mirtul
🌻 Greengrass 🌻
The warmth from the sun draped over her, the heady smell of fragrant flowers about to boom and the new spring spices enhancing her senses, making her shiver with delight. This was the third time she had come back to the Summer Court from the Material Plane and it still elicited such euphoric reactions in all of her senses. It was a bit easier this time though, maybe because Merla had not been away as long as before. When she had thought of The Song it was less of a popping sensation and more of a melting into herself when being brought back. The tendrils of Plane Shifting magics still clinging to her slowly started to fade as she glanced around realising she was standing outside Queen Titania’s chambers. Merla looked herself over, saying a few Healing Words to get rid of the acidic scars the Alkilith demon had left on her arm and leg. Once she knew she was presentable, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. “It is I, Great Queen, your daughter Merla, returned. I bring news from across the Planes.” There is a pause and then one of the doors slowly opens. From inside Merla hears Titania’s voice call out to her. “Come in, Daughter.” A smile spreads across her face as she crosses the threshold, closing the door behind her.
Her fingers dance and leap across the dark and light keys of the grand instrument as she lost herself in the throes of the music. The eladrin musicians accompanying her are in awe as Merla seems to glow with the radiance of the sun, the blooming flowers even bending towards her as they felt the ardour of her passions. The lyrics sung in the High Sylvan tongue drew the fey in from their festivities. To those who could tear their eyes away from the fae-bard, they could see Queen Titania watching from on high through a large opening in the cathedral-like tree that housed the heart of the Summer Court. The lyrics Merla sang came from her heart, her very soul. And you say we’re too young, but maybe you’re too old to remember
And I try to pretend but I just feel it when we’re together
And if you don’t believe me, you never really knew us
You never really knew
She got quieter, a small reprieve. The pixies were swaying and even some red caps were lifting their hats up to her in a salute before being chased off by a dryad. Merla smiled at all who gathered, from the mighty centaur tribe lords and ladies to the ethereal unicorns and pegasi. You and I, packin’ up my room, we feel alright
But we’re not well, come soon
We'll be ridin’, ’cause they don't know who we are
Who’s to say we won’t stay together?
Who’s to say we aren’t getting stronger?
Who’s to say I can’t live without you?
Who are they anyway? Anyway they don't know
As Merla crescendos into the chorus the ecstasy of the song makes all the hairs on her body stand on end, the gem in her circlet burning bright like a sun. Some would later swear they could see the air shimmer with an unknown force of strange magic whilst others would insist it was just the wind. For Merla, she could feel a resonance in her very soul and she marvelled at how complete she felt since coming back.
And you say we’re too young, but maybe you’re too old to remember
And I try to pretend, but I just feel it when we’re together
Who is to say?
And who is to say?
And who are they anyway?
With her eyes closed, playing the final bars of the song, a face comes unbidden to Merla’s mind as she sings the last lyrical verse. Stand up boy, I shine so bright when you’re around
Merla opens her eyes and like waking from a dream the face is gone. The gathered audience is shouting and clapping for her and she turns to them, dazed and confused for the briefest of moments, before recovering. Remembering where she was and the magic of the performance she just did, Merla gets up from the bench and takes an elegant bow. As she stands, she looks up and sees her Queen Mother applauding too. There is a pleased countenance to Titania’s face but it doesn’t linger. The fae-bard sees the small sunflower on her Mother’s breast dimming as the Seelie Queen turns away to talk to some of the noble fey of the court. Merla walks off the stage of spring flowers into the throng of fey, picking up a lily with a heady liquid that was a more concentrated version of the typical feywine she preferred to drink. Taking a small sip she felt the heat of the drink hit the back of her throat and cascade down, spreading to the very tips of her fingers. Though it is always summer in the Court she called home, the fey do like their celebrations and on the Material Plane it was Greengrass, the Spring Equinox. She wove her way through the crowd, exchanging pleasant words with some whilst playing word games with others. A family of brownies came up to her who turned out to be related to Thino, the nursemaid who had helped get her acquainted with life in the Summer Court all those years ago. She asked after her and was pleased to hear Thino had started her own family away from the Court. The festivities went on with more performances from herself and others. It did not happen again, but between the revelries when Merla would have a moment to herself she would reflect on what happened at the end of the song, of the face she had seen. It was the unexpectedness of it that confused her, making her think of her friends and the threads tying her to Daring Heights. It was during one of these reprieves by herself, the sun starting to dip into the horizon, a quartet of elven musicians just taking to the stage, starting to play a popular fey song, when she heard a familiar puckish laugh as clear as a bell through the crowd. “Kruxeral?” Merla calls out, and a couple of the fey nearby turn to look at her, whilst others turn in the direction of the laugh. Like a fox, she deftly weaves her way through the crowd of fey to the point where she could hear his laughter. But when she gets there she sees a group of eladrin children playing catch the pixie. She looks at them, confused. Merla was sure she had heard him… Then she his roguish laugh coming from somewhere behind and to the right of her. Cutting back through the crowd, the fabrics of her fine court dress trailing after her she searches for him. This time she sees his cloven feet between those of the other fey. Her eyes spark with light and as she looks up she sees the cut of his grin but then a dryad walks in front of her, brushing past her off with a scoff, and Merla has to bite back some vicious words, the budding frustration starting to get to her. Once the tree matron is past she reaches the point she thought Kruxeral would be and once more he is not there. Is he playing games with me? I told him I would return at the next full moon, that he would be able to see how much my heart is still my own. Did he not hear my song? All around her Merla hears the fey talking and laughing, some even starting to dance to the quartet’s music. She wants to scream but holds it back, very aware that if she were to do so she might lose control in a crowd like this, which would mean trouble for her Queen Mother, let alone herself. As Merla turns around in a circle, hearing his laugh for a third time, she wonders if it is some fey prank someone is playing on her, when she catches sight of his horned head. He is not very far away in fact, talking to a noble fey woman with hair made of swan feathers. His eyes catch on hers for the briefest of moments and she knows he sees her, that he really is here. Her heart skips a beat. “Kruxeral!” she calls to him, taking a step. As her back foot lifts up, her dress catches on something but she is already moving forward unable to stop her momentum. Trying to right herself she ends up stumbling sideways and into the muscular white leg of an equestrian fey. “My apologies, I didn’t–” Merla starts but stops as all she sees is strong, wide, white haired shoulders. She takes a step back and looks up, her mouth dropping open in a silent oh of surprise as she realises who she just collided with. “Lord Eachthighern,” Merla says in High Sylvan, bowing. “Forgive my clumsiness. I do hope you are not hurt.” She keeps her head bowed for a moment longer. From somewhere far above her she hears him exhale. It takes her a moment to realise he is laughing and she frowns as she thinks he is laughing at her, then remembers herself and schools her face to be neutral. “Mirfae, you are but a tiny breeze to the likes of me,” he says to her, the spiralling horn on his majestic head glowing. “You did no harm.” “Well… I am glad. If you would excuse me,” Merla says the words a little too short, and goes to step around him, already trying to look for Kruxeral. Lord Eachthighern moves to be in front of her easily, blocking her path. His grey dappled face comes down to look at her, large ears focusing forward. From this angle his unicorn horn catches the last glowing rays of the setting sun, transforming it into a spear of pure light. “I came to speak with you, Mirfae. Would you take a walk with me?” Merla blinks in surprised confusion. She has never had any conversations before with the Lord of Unicorns and Pegasi, though she knows he is part of the Inner Court. What could he have to speak to her about? Does her Queen Mother know? In the end her curiosity won out. “It would be honoured, my Lord.” He slowly blinks at her, his silent approval. She falls into step beside him expecting to head towards the great castle but instead he leads the way towards the forest, away from the festivities. Curiosity growing, Merla follows. Her steps are shorter and faster but Lord Eachthighern does not outpace her, keeping to a slower cantor so she is not running to keep up with this large form. She realises this and is thankful, feeling a little embarrassed for her rudeness towards him earlier. Their walk is a silent but companionable one. The path they walk on is a trail of soft moss that is buoyant under their feet and hooves. Merla starts to see the glow of the twilight flowers as they open their petals to the moon and stars starting to dot the night sky. That is one of the many things she loves about the Summer Court, it never truly gets dark here. Even when it is night there is light. It is truly the most beautiful place in all of the Realms. The two reach a clearing where the trees encircle a still lake. Looking at it one would think it is a mirror as it perfectly reflects all around it, even the lights of the twilight flowers, the moon and the stars. Before she can get lost in the beauty of the nature around her, Merla turns towards Lord Eachthighern. “What did you wish to speak to me about?” The white winged unicorn tilts his considerably large head to the side as he looks down at her. “You were not born here. You are a stranger to these lands, not one of us,” he says matter of factly as he looks at her, dark grey eyes seeming to peer into her mind. Merla is too shocked by what he has just said to fully register it, but he continues before she can speak. “I could not grasp why the Queen kept you, a mortal child, in the Summer Court, let alone raised you. I will not say that I know any better now than I did then but…” He pauses and looks out across the mirrored lake, his profile one of majestic beauty. “I think I have begun to understand.”
“My Lord, forgive me, but I am the one who does not understand,” Merla says, an uncomfortable feeling of confusion stirring in the pit of her stomach. “I have always been in the Summer Court, for as long as I can remember.”
“And you have proven many wrong in the years you have been here. It is not a feat many can do.” Merla is not sure if what the equin lord is saying is a compliment or a warning. “I have been appraised of what you do when you are not here with us,” he admits, lowering his head in a slight bow. “It is brave, a trait our Queen values. She says you do it to protect these lands.”
“That is one part of it, yes,” Merla says. “What is the other part?” he asks. “It is difficult…” her words stop in her throat and she’s not sure how to continue, realising she was starting to say a half lie. Lord Eachthighern waits, is grey eyes studying her as she chooses her words carefully. “Since travelling to the Material Plane I have met many people, all unique and driven by various passions, wants and desires. Some wish to protect because they feel it is their duty, others want to seek personal gain and if they can do a good deed and help themselves, then they will. But they each have a heart that cares for the things that matter most to them.” Merla looks up to the stars and they light up her topaz blue eyes. “Not all of them are pure of heart, but most of them can be. Many of them carry scars that are too deep for any one person to carry alone…” Her eyes glisten as if filling with tears. “And yet they endure. They keep trying.” She blinks and the shine of tears are gone. “I know I am not one of them, but I still feel a desire to help. If it’s in my power to do so, I have to try, don’t I? I thought it was about living and experiencing more of life somewhere outside of the Court, but it’s not just that anymore.” She looks to the mighty lord beside her. “I cannot risk anything happening there because of what it would mean for us here. We are all connected you see, and if something befalls one of us, it happens to all of us.”
The equine lord dips his head in a nod, an acknowledgement of her words. “I start to see why you are so valued, Mirfae. Your heart is strong, pure, and loyal. But even those words, pretty and heartfelt as they were, do not leave me with the surety I need.”
“Then ask me your question, Lord Eachthighern,” Merla says, her chin held high. But when the Lord of Unicorns and Pegasi tossed his luxurious, silvery-white mane from one side to the other in an egoistic way, she was perplexed. “I think you are too good at words. I shall, instead, observe your actions.”He reigned back, wings shooting out. Merla quickly backed away so as to not get hit by his hooves. The Lord let out a piercing call to the night, and the lake rippled in front of him. Merla felt magic in that call and her heart quickened. But nothing more happened and the waters went still again. Coming down to all fours, wings staying out, Lord Eachthighern gazed at Merla, lowering his shimmering unicorn horn to touch her forehead below the gem in her circlet. “If your heart is true, Mirfae, call, and the stars will answer.” With that, he stepped back and then took off up into the night, leaving Merla alone by the still waters. She stands there a moment, thinking over what she just shared with the Lord, and his words. Stepping up to the water’s edge she looks down at her reflection. Something about it seems foreign, otherworldly even for the Feywild. That call the equine lord did reminded her of the one she had done when she and her friends had joined The Hunt. Bringing her hands up to her mouth and taking a deep breath, Merla calls out. She stands there, calling for a time unmeasurable. The night seems to be suspended, the very air holding its breath and listening. The waters are still barely a ripple breaking their smooth surface. Her voice, strong and sure at first, eventually starts to wear out. But Merla keeps calling. Something compelling her to, a need to prove the Fey Lord wrong or right, or both, she is not sure. But she calls out and keeps calling. On her last breaths, as she feels her vocal cords wanting to rest, the water starts to shift and move, undulating in time with her call. She feels a magic building around her, a wind making the still lake start to foam as it whips across its surface. In a burst of water and starlight, the lake erupts up towards the sky and Merla sees the most beautiful creature emerge. Wings of iridescent feathers, hair the shifting colour of moonstone, and a singular spiralling horn in the middle of its forehead. The unicorn flaps its mighty wings as the water falls from its mane. In open awe of the beautiful creature before her, Merla watches as she – for Merla knew without a doubt it was a female – made a quick circuit over the treetops surrounding the clearing before landing down in front of her. “I heard your call.” The voice in her mind is soft but strong. Merla smiles and bows. “My name is Merla.”
“And I am Astra,” she says, her mighty wings fanning out as she returns the bow. She straightens and shakes her mane, the last of the lake’s waters falling from it, the shimmering blue undertone to her hair glowing in the moonlight. Merla takes a step towards Astra, and tentatively reaches up to her. Astra lowers her head and bumps her nose into her shoulder. “You are very small,” Astra says matter-of-factly. Merla giggles, “And you are very large.”
“Of course, I am one of the Horse Lord’s kin.”
“Are you his daughter?” Merla asks, intrigued. “I am one of many,” Astra simply replies, her chest puffing out in pride. “But I came when you called. What great deed will be doing this night, Merla?"
“Hmmm, well…” Merla thinks for a minute, looking around. She goes over to one of the nearby trees, speaking some words in Sylvan and vines of glowing flowers are lowered into her hands. She comes back and holds them out to Astra. “I was thinking we could go flying. It’s a clear night, the moon is bright and full. What do you say?” Astra looks at the vines and seems to pick up what Merla is meaning by them. She lowers her head and says, “Because you are so small, I will allow you the vines. But we shall have to see about making you bigger.” Merla laughs out loud at that, draping the vines around Astra’s neck and withers. “I don’t see my height changing any time soon but who knows, maybe one day!” Once she finishes she stands back. “Is that alright, Astra?”
“It is fine Merla.”
Astra surprises her by kneeling down so it is easier to get onto her back. Once she was able to figure out where her legs could go, Merla indicates she is ready and Astra stands up. “Oh! Wow. This is really high.” “Just imagine how high we will be in a moment,” Astra says with a grin. Merla grips the vines and a bit of Astra’s mane as the winged unicorn rears back, wings once more shooting out. One, two, three powerful pumps of her iridescent feathered wings and they take off into the night sky. Merla calls out again, this time in victory at flying together with her new partner and mighty steed. It echoes across the night sky, down to the fey festivities below. |
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Post by Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed on Jul 10, 2020 0:19:00 GMT
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Resumption: The Month of Flowers
30th of Mirtul to 6th of Kythorn
🌻 Taking place directly after the events of ‘Before the Dawn’ 🌻
Light feet stepped out from under a red archway on the Material Plane and into a familiar grand hall in the heart of the Summer Court. She had stayed as long as she could with Varis, Baine, and the few that remained of the Order soldiers. The Daughter of Summer was humbled and grateful to have been part of the laughter and tears of the stories shared about those who were no longer with them. And I got to be there for Varis.Merla feels the last of the tensions in her body drawn out from her as she takes her first full, easy breath of the sweet Summer air, exhaustion starting to creep in… “There she is!” A myriad of fey turned towards her in uncanny unison, the exhaustion that was starting to settle into her bones grinding to a halt. The faces looking at her were those of the Glorious Company, resplendent with no ash in sight, hardly a sign of the battle they fought hours ago in Avernus on their gemcoloured armour. Amongst other court fey, Arvel Morningdew, his handsome face made all the more beautiful with a wide grin lighting his features, stands on the steps of the grand dais, gesturing towards her. As if rehearsed the fey and eladrin part, making a direct path to where he stood near Queen Titania. “The one who led us on the charge down in Avernus. My Queen,” he turns towards Titania, “I heard the tales of Lady Merla’s bravery and adventures on the Material Plane but never did I dream them all to be true! She was a vision on the battlefield, fierce as any fey.” The Queen of Summer does not look at the commander as he speaks. Even from this great distance across the Hall in Perihelion Palace, Merla can feel the heat of Titania’s gaze as she studies her. Under such scrutiny the Fae Daughter feels every wound, every aching and sore muscle, every bandage wrapped tightly over partially healed injuries under her armour. The weight of her rapier hangs heavy at her side whilst her harp thrums at her right hip. It’s like she’s been put under a scope with the sun’s rays drawing to a laser point, readying to set her alight. Merla’s eyes are raw from the cathartic laughing and crying she has done with Varis and the others, but there is no mistaking the light that shines out from them as she holds Titania’s gaze, being seen and seeing her Queen Mother in return. There is an almost imperceptible lift to Titania’s lips that could be the beginnings of a smile before she gestures with her right hand for Merla to come to her. As she passes them, Merla feels how the fey’s eyes roam over her body. She makes herself move with the grace of a dancer despite how tired her muscles are, head held high, an alluring expression on her face. Gone is the exhaustion, the burning tiredness banished by the force of her will. Merla is on the stage of the Summer Court, the roles she has taken on over the past few days molding and merging together, becoming something new, something she has not shown to the Great Seelie Queen before. She senses it, a shift, a change in the status quo. But what this change is, Merla is not sure. Still, she will not hesitate, she will seize this moment. Touching her second and third finger to the imperial topaz in her circlet, then to her lips, she bows her head, resting her fingers over her heart as she curtsies at the base of the dais. A sound of rustling leaves ripples out from the fey around her as they watch this display. Merla holds the courtly bow as she speaks, her voice strong and clear for all to hear. “May Summer’s Light bless my path, Great Queen Titania.” There is silence in the hall as all hold their breath. Merla stands, her lips curved into a soft bow of a smile, hands by her side, eyes alight. One of Queen Titania’s eyebrows rises slightly as she looks down at her. “Summer’s Light rests upon you, Merla.” Once again, a sound of rustling leaves in an imperceptible wind ripples out from the dais among the fey. Merla stands even taller and begins to climb up the steps, coming to Queen Titania’s side. As the Summer Queen begins to speak, the rustling stops and all gathered listen with keen ears. “Commander Morningdew has told me his tale of what happened, but I would hear the story from you.”Merla’s eyes fall upon the small sunflower tucked into Titania’s breastplate and she feels her heart stir. She nods, casting a glance at Arvel. He stands a few steps lower now giving Mother and Daughter the space to be the centre of everyone’s attention. After addressing Queen Titania in a manner one of the fey Lords or Lady’s of the court would, Merla knows there is no going back now… One step closer.Merla takes to the centre of the stage, recounting the fight between the Vanguard and Raksas Highwatch and the timely arrival of the Glorious Company in Avernus. Then she tells the tale of the Battle at the Sundered Chains, of the waves of devils they had held back, of the beauty and grace of the Glorious Company as they sang and danced across the battlefield with her, of the sharp shooting of her friends, and their skills with weapons and magic alike. “At first, it looked like we could hold them back. But the waves of fiends kept coming, and though we had great might and magic on our side, there was no option but to withdraw.” Merla pauses. “The Order of the Crimson Fist cavalry, led by Gretcha Coldiron, held the line for us whilst everyone retreated through the rift, back to the Material Plane.”Merla feels Titania studying her and a heat rises to her cheeks, unbidden and unwanted. She makes herself look up at the Warrior Queen on her golden throne. Titania’s large and imposing form would have made her feel inconsequential before but there is a steel to her spine now that holds her fast and firm. “You have mentioned this Order before. Who leads them?”Merla takes a breath, keeping her voice as even as she can. “Grandmaster Varis Nailo, my Queen.”Something flashes behind Titania’s eyes. “And you chose to see this Grandmaster Varis Nailo before coming to me.”The floor seems to suddenly disappear from beneath her feet. Merla does her best to control her breathing, to keep the flush from reaching her ears as the scope of Titania’s gaze becomes like laser points again. She has a moment where she wonders if this is her Mother’s way of testing her. But as Merla is about to respond, the Seelie Queen turns to Arvel, a half smile on her face. “It is well that we keep these relations with the mortals,” she says to him, though the whole court can hear. “However we must not forget where our loyalties lie.”
“Of course, my Queen,” Arvel agrees, bowing. Merla watches this exchange, wondering if there is something else being alluded to with their words. But as the Summer Queen begins to address all of the fey in the hall, Merla’s mind wanders. The exhaustion which she had been holding back has managed to slip its meagre bonds and she finds it harder to concentrate as a wave of lightheadedness tries to overwhelm her. She feels she cannot stay up much longer, but she cannot just slip away. Merla tries pinching herself on the arm and the momentary pain brings her back to full wakefulness just as Titania turns back to her. The Summer Queen's large face is unreadable as she looks down at Merla. “We will speak again later after you have rested. You have done well, Daughter,” Titania opined softly to her. “My gratitude, Femaer*,” Merla said, doing her best to hide the exhaustion from her voice as she touched her fingers to the gem, then her lips, then curtsied once again, being dismissed. As quickly and as subtly as she could, Merla descended the stairs of the dais, weaving through the fey. Many tried to stop and speak to her, but she politely made her excuses, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto her bed and sleep. Deciding the best way to avoid being stopped by any others wishing to speak to her, Merla slipped behind a large eladrin, hiding from the view of yet another court fey who’d just tried to stop her. As they stood looking at where Merla had been she was already in one of the small alcoves at the edge of the hall. Knocking three times in a pattern on the oak, a hidden door sighed open under her touch, allowing her to enter into one of the secret passageways that would lead to her chambers. Merla was unaware of the verdant eyes that had been watching her intently as she made her way across the hall and then slipped into obscurity into the crowd. Their expression is palpable. Pausing on the threshold, Merla turns around to look over her shoulder, her brow furrowed, unsure why she hesitated. Shaking her head as she suppresses a huge yawn, like a wisp of smoke she slips into the passage and the door magically closes behind her. *Femaer – Mother |
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Post by Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed on Jul 12, 2020 20:09:48 GMT
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Sometime Around Summer Solstice in the Dawnlands
Sheryl had been spending much of her time helping Baine, and by extension Varis, organise the possessions left behind in the soldiers quarters in the Crimson Fist compound. Some were sent back to their families, others merely tossed, their value gone with the person who was no longer there. A few of the things were donated to Thia’s Refuge. Baine had worked very efficiently, clearly not wanting to waste time or dwell on things. As a result, Sheryl was sharing more meals with them. These were prepared by Grits, though not the exquisite fare she would have at the Four Fair Winds, some became her favourite. Once the plates were cleared she would pull out her harp to play a song, or a few, and though none of them ever said it to her, she could feel a light starting to warm the cold stone halls for all of them. She was also able to glean what happened to Sunday. The tiefling paladin had set off with Varis, Baine, Taffeta and Pieni but it became clear very quickly that she had not come back. Sheryl had thought the worst, until Varis told her what happened. In a desperate bid to kill Zariel, Sunday had called upon Corellon. The Protector and Preserver of Life had appeared in the First, stopping time. They asked what it was Sunday wished of them, and she had asked for them to kill Zariel. “There will be a cost, even for me,” they had cautioned but Sunday said it was what they needed of them. Corellon then summoned a mighty tree, burning even as it grew, it’s branches obliterating Zariel’s lieutenants and striking the Archduchess herself to the ground. As quick as it had come, the tree vanished, and Corellon, mighty Creator of Elves and First of the Seldarine collapsed into Sunday’s arms. Then, without a word to the others, Sunday, Corellon and her winged companion eLk, vanished from Avernus. Sheryl saw Markas a few days after hearing this story after a long day of helping at the Crimson Fist compound. The news seemed to have a great effect on the grey monk and though he did not say it to her, Sheryl knew he was making preparations to leave. Whether to search for Sunday across the realms or to figure out what direction his life should lead, it was unclear. Her friend would not stay in Daring anymore and without a word, one day he was gone. The days grew longer and hotter. Astra was by Sheryl’s side, helping at the Order’s headquarters. On such a day, the sun high in the summer sky, the winged unicorn was by the stables, quenching her thirst in the midday sun. Varis was just returning from whatever errands he had needed to run that day, riding in on Tuevel when she stopped drinking, lifted her head, and turned her starlight gaze to the stag. “There will be another load of items to take to the Refuge in a little bit Astra, if you’re up for it?” Sheryl had asked through their bond. There was no reply. “Astra? If you’re ignoring me so you won’t have to carry anything then-”Sheryl stepped around the corner and she felt like she had walked in on a private conversation. There was a poignant energy in the air that made the hairs on her arms stand on end, but she couldn’t see what Astra was looking at. Stepping out farther, Sheryl was surprised to see Tuevel, still as the deep woods, only his nostrils flaring as he breathed in, eyes locked on Astra. “Astra?”Her friend does not acknowledge her, continuing to stare at Tuevel, her spiralling horn softly glowing. Sheryl had never seen it do that before. She looked back and forth between the two, unsure what to do, as the air between them only seemed to grow more electrifying. What is going on?Sheryl hears Varis’ deep voice and like the snapping of a twig under foot, the spell is broken. The mighty stag turns and follows the Grandmaster, disappearing from sight. “What was that?” Sheryl asked after a moment. Astra takes a deep breath, shaking her head, her moonstone coloured mane shimmering in the sun’s light. “A greeting,” she replies cryptically. “That was more than a greeting,” Sheryl says, her hands going to her hips, one eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t sure if you two were going to charge one another or find a meadow in the forest and-”
“I do not judge you and your interactions with the Grandmaster, Merla. Do not judge me and mine.”Sheryl is taken aback, affronted that Astra was offended at her teasing. But just as quickly, embarrassment creeps in followed by guilt at what she had been implying. “Your forgiveness, Astra,” she says sincerely. “I should not have said such a crude thing to you. It was not my place to judge that which I do not understand.”Astra slowly blinks down at Sheryl before answering. “There is nothing to forgive. I was… unprepared to meet one of the cridhe airgid.” When Sheryl gives her a confused look she explains. “A Silver Hart. They are rare, akin to legends to the pegasus. I have heard stories of them, but to meet one here…”Sheryl smiles and steps up to Astra, laying a gentle hand on her face. “I hope it was a friendly hello?”
“It was… not unpleasant.”The fae-bard lets out a soft laugh. “Come, let us get the next load of items to the Refuge. You can spend some time with the children whilst I unpack.”The two go over to where Baine has set up a decent sized pile of items and Sheryl starts packing them away in her Handy Satchel, the extradimensional space empty of her adventuring gear. She is about halfway through packing when a snippet of conversation between Grits and Conrad catches her attention as they pass by. “Why does the new Squeak keep trying to steal food?” Conrad asks, confused. “I dunno,” Grits grumbles. “Caught him trying to grab some mouldy bread that had gone off on the Solstice. Tried explainin’ that he doesn’t have to do that, there’s plenty of food to go around…” Sheryl stops dead, over half her arm disappeared into one of the side pockets of her bag. “Oh no.”She looks at Astra, dread written across her face. “Astra, we’ve missed Saliysuli Verénal*!”*The Eternal Summer Time |
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Post by Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed on Jul 13, 2020 23:26:46 GMT
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Saliysuli Verénal
Time in the Feywild is a funny thing.
No one quite knows why time runs differently between the Planes. Those realms which are closer to the Material Plane tend to keep to the same pace. But sometimes, often times, either by magic, the change in a season, or through some weaving of Fate, time slips, jumps, bolts, or pauses altogether.
This can be a boon, or a bane. One thing is certain, it is never easy to predict when it will happen.
Merla thought she had missed the most important celebration of the Summer Court, Saliysuli Veránal, the Eternal Summer Time. But our Daughter of Summer has had luck on her side on more than one occasion and it seemed this was yet again another time where Luck was in her favour.
“When yeh came in, Mirfae, all in a whirl o’ song ‘n wind, I thought fer sure the hordes o’ Hell were on yer wings!” Thino says to her. Her twig fingers pull on Merla’s golden and peach coloured tresses making her eyes water a little. “And since when did yeh have one of the Lord Eachthighern kin as yer mount?” Her bark lips clicked together in that worrisome way they used to when Merla was a child, and it makes her smile a little at the memories the sounds elicits. “I leave yeh for a season and yeh’ve changed into some Court Lady!”
“Astra is more than my mount, she is my friend, Thino. She and I have seen and done much together-”
“Oh, aye ’eard, child! Ter think the small creature I helped raise is now leadin’ one of our Queen’s great batallions on campaigns in Avernus!” Thino chitters and Merla does her best to keep her expression neutral as the fey pulls on her hair again, hard. “Yeh will have more eyes on yeh now than yeh ever did before.”
“Is that why you came back for Saliyusuli Verénal?” Merla asks, curious. “What about your new family?”
Thino doesn’t answer right away.
“I chose ter come back ter see yah, Mirfae. The stories of yer deeds ’ave spread far in the Summer Lands, and even a li’le beyond to those who choose ter believe ’em. It would be remiss of me if I was not ’ere to help yeh.”
Merla’s brow furrows and she turns to look at Thino. Though her voice is gentle, Merla’s eyes are probing. “Surely your children need you more than I, Thino. I am capable of taking care of myself for the day-to-day, you do not need to be here for that – like before.”
There is a nervous twitch to Thino’s lips before she hides it behind a toothy smile. “Nonsense, dear’eart,” she says. Merla’s insightful eyes tell her there is more behind her nursemaid’s being here, she just doesn’t know what. “Yeh need meh! My young ’uns have their father ’n I can visit dem when yer in dae Mortal Realms. When you are ’ere, I am ’ere.”
She lays her hands on Merla’s shoulders and makes her turn back around. “Let me finish gettin’ yeh ready. The sun is nearly at ’er peak ’n you must be present fer the Marfachrei*.” She goes back to working on Merla’s hair. “Maybe this will be the year tha’ Master o’ Revelries’ll finally man up. Wouldn’t that be somethin’...”
Merla’s heart skips a beat as a heat rises within her she was not expecting.
“Master Kruxeral is far too busy for the likes of me these days. I have not seen him since before Greengrass.”
“Aye? He and I were just speakin’ about yeh before yer arrival early dis mornin’,” Thino remarks, puzzled. “Though ’e did disappea’ rather abruptly withou’ a werd. But ’e tends to do that, la.” Thino notices Merla’s silence. “I’m sure it’s fine dear. He’s just… got a lot ter prepare today. You’ll see him, I’m sure.”
“I would like that,” Merla utters quietly, the Sylvan making her speak the truth in her heart. Thino rests a wooden hand on her sunkissed shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
The twig-like fey continues to chatter whilst she finishes getting Merla ready. For her part, Merla is deep in her mind, wandering from thought to desire, worry to want. She has purposefully not thought about Kruxeral because thinking about him hurts in a way her heart has never felt before. There is so much she wants to say to him, to try and explain. But would he even want to listen?
He somehow knew what I had done without me having to tell him. I can understand why he would be upset – he was the one to teach me music, the one who’s helped me find my Song, who guided me, protected me when all other fey tried to use me. I owe so much to him.
Her year in Kantas changed her, opened her up to new possibilities, new inner strengths Merla did not know she had. Before, there would have been no way she would have mentioned anything about Sunday in front of her Queen Mother and yet she had, boldly. She was not so naïve to believe she was above consequence, but that’s where her use of honest, persuasive words came in. She didn’t have to rely on Kruxeral as much, she could finally stand on her own two feet as an equal instead of Master and Student. Each journey back to Kantas was like going into the chrysalis, and each emergence revealed another vibrant layer of who she wanted to become.
I wish he could see that. I thought he could, that he would want this for me...
“There,” Thino grinned, one final dab of gold paint added to Merla’s arms with a soft, petal brush. The stout fey steps back and as she takes in Merla’s appearance she lets out a small breath satisfied wonder.
Merla turns towards the looking glass in her chambers and hardly recognises the person staring back at her. Hair braided and curled around the circlet she always wears, the powders on her face only highlight the features that have been gradually becoming more feylike with each passing day. The fabric wrapped around her would be sheer were it not for the multiple layers draped over her body in soft creams and pastel, daffodil yellows. It shimmers with every movement, every breath she takes, with varying sized pieces of copper, brass, and gold metals woven into its fine, silky threads which only make it sparkle even more whenever the sunlight hits her. The straps sitting on her shoulders look ready to fall off at the slightest touch, whilst the neckline dips wide and low enough to show off her collarbones, which seem more pronounced with the highlighting Thino has done on her body. It all comes together with a sunflower like pattern at her waist, where it is cinched into a tight but comfortable corset, showing off a flattering, very curved figure.
“Oh Thino, I look…”
“Ya look like a vision of sunlight, Lady Merla,” Thino says, bowing.
Merla smiles kindly at the gruagach, quickly stepping over to her and embracing her in a warm hug. Thino gives a little noise of surprise, not used to such affections, but she eventually relaxes, lightly patting Merla’s back in the low cut dress.
Gently pushing out of Merla’s embrace Thino gives one last glance at her and then quickly starts tidying up.
“I’ll leave yah to do annae final Glamours, should ye wish,” Thino says and then departs.
“Sure…” is all Merla responds with as she looks at herself again. The asymmetrical, high-low cut of the dress makes it very easy to move in. She spins around, watching the fabric float around her like an afterimage. It elicits a delighted laugh and she does it again, reflective rainbows dancing across the room.
As much as she is enjoying herself, Merla knows she should finish getting ready. Going over to a small vanity built into the wall of her rooms, she picks up her mask, it’s half butterfly form shimmering like her dress. Carefully putting it on so the braids and curls of her hair hide the ribbons holding it on, she looks at herself one final time in the mirror.
There’s something missing.
Tilting her head, considering what Glamours she could do, Merla tries a few, singing them into existence. None felt right to her though, so she ends up dismissing them as quickly as she conjures them. She starts looking around her rooms, wondering if there was something else she could add. She had to have something, but what?
Then she remembered the perfect Glamour she could put on that would be the final piece to her outfit.
Going over to her satchel, Merla reaches in and pulls out the Cloak of Many Feathers she had received after their return from Avernus from Arvel Morningdew. One would think with its myriad of dazzlingly colourful feathers from birds unknown would make it weigh a lot but it feels as light as air in her hands. Bringing it over to the looking glass, she tentatively drapes it over her shoulders.
This is it!
The way it fell to either side of the dress, leaving the low-cut back open to be seen, the ever shifting colours of the feathers – it was the perfect final piece.
Music drifted in through her large windows and Merla knew the celebrations were about to begin. She was unsure how best to secure the cloak when she noticed, tucked under the feathers, was the most elegant woven metal collar. Looking at it she saw it could be adjusted to fit any outfit she chose. Excitement building within her, Merla places the clock over her shoulders once more, adjusting the collar until it sat above the neckline of her dress.
As Merla clipped the beautiful, two bird motif clasp into place she felt something dig into her back between her shoulder blades, sharp and quick, like talons piercing her skin.
“Ah! What the-”
Quickly turning around, already second guessing if she had felt anything at all, Merla tried to see if one of the feathers had maybe gotten loose. A stray feather could be what was stabbing her, surely, if anything even did scrape against her back. But she saw the feathers coming up and over her shoulders cascaded in a waterfall of colours on either side of her middle back, sitting nowhere near where she thought she felt something stab her.
“You’re going to be late if you keep preening.”
A blue-green faerie dragon stands, perched on the open window, platinum wings slowly folding in. The tiny creature sits on its hind legs and tilts its head, curiously.
“Lu!” Merla rushes over, sunlight making her glow as the feathers of her cloak shuffle and shift. “I was just about to head down. Would you care to join me?”
Lumina lifts her snout up to smell the cloak briefly before answering.
“Only if you promise to help me get the best sweets. The last time they were stolen from me!” she harrumphs.
Merla’s laugh is bright, pure birdsong. “I will even help you get back at those pixies who stole your precious apple tart the last time.”
Lumina’s tail flicks side to side, a mischievous light to her eyes. “Then let’s go! Follow me!”
Not waiting for her, the faerie dragon leaps off from the windowsill, drifting on the wind to make her way down to the festivities beginning below.
“Hey wait, I can’t-” Merla starts, but then stops as she hears words whispered into her mind. “Right, of course,” she mutters quietly to herself. “Wait for me!” she calls after the faerie dragon.
Stepping up onto the window’s ledge, she feels the wind pulling at her, tempting her to step out and into its embrace.
And she does so.
“Lareth ath Ethir!**”
Brilliant, radiant wings of every colour imaginable shoot out and instead of falling, Merla is flying, soaring, tumbling and freewheeling through the air as she rides the air currents. Her laughter can be heard down below and many of the fey look up. Some smile at seeing the joy, others give a more weary eye to the Daughter of Summer’s descent.
Days later, whispers in the Court would have some fey claiming Lady Merla’s wings were black as midnight and to look upon them would cause a shadowy dread to creep across their minds. Others would dismiss these claims, saying the Marfachrei went to their heads. They were merely dreading the waning of Summer now that Saliysuli Veránal had passed.
As for Merla, she did not see Kruxeral at all during the Marfachrei. No excuses, no word, nothing. Plenty of people attested to seeing him there, but it was never where she was. She did not end up pairing off with another fey either, which meant no one took off her mask that night.
It was the first time she felt that maybe Fate was trying to tell her something. Merla just wasn’t sure what.
* The Short Lived King, a.k.a The Oberon
** Wings of Twilight
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Post by Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed on Sept 3, 2020 17:33:19 GMT
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Fate’s Shadow
23rd to the 29th of Eleasis
🌻 Co-written with the ever amazing andycd 🌻
The sun is high in the azure sky, its radiant heat bathing the Enchanted Forest surrounding Perihelion Palace with a warmth that can be felt down to one’s very soul. The Lands of Eternal Summer are vibrant; music is in the air, and every manner of fey, animal, and plant are basking in the golden glow of the final days of Highsun-time. Merla walks down a familiar, winding grassy path with Astra by her side and Lumina draped lazily across her shoulders. The small faerie dragon delicately chews on a candied fruit, the bag from Henry the Butler mostly eaten by the tiny sugar crazed creature. Birds and pixies and other tiny fey perch high on the branches of the large oak, pine, beech, and elm trees that the trio walk past, observing the Daughter of Summer. They do not come close enough to eavesdrop. In the past, some fey might have attempted to strike up a conversation with Lady Merla. But these days they are giving her a wider birth. “…When I realised who it was we were fighting, what sort of connection they must have to Baine and Varis I felt it. A shadow of wings. It wasn’t as strong as when I was in Fallford but it was there.” Merla spoke softly. She looks up to Astra, an apologetic smile on her face. “What you felt was that, wasn’t it?”
Astra dips her head forward slightly, the spiralling horn on her head glowing. Her voice, instead of coming across their bond can be heard aloud though she is careful to not project it too loud. “It was akin to that, yes. I had not realised what you meant when you described it to me the first time.”
“Are you sure you weren’t seeing things? A lot can happen in the heat of battle,” chirps Lumina from Merla’s right side. She is delicately licking her lips, eyes glued on the bag of sweets Merla carries in her hand. Astra looks down her long face at the small creature and is about to speak but Merla says something before she can. “Even my friends are noticing something is… off about me,” she confides, looking at Lumina. “Arkadius tried to talk to me about it – saying I should try to convince the manager in the Four Fair Winds to give us free drinks for a month. I can be convincing but for something like that, it would be easier to just charm the person to do my bidding.”
Lumina trills in agreement. Looking out at the trees, Merla sees the various creatures watching them as they go by. She smiles and waves, and some of them wave back to her. But the majority of them duck behind leaves and branches, pretending they didn’t see her or trying to hide from her line of sight. Her hand falls back down to her side as her brow knits together. “But it’s more than just when I try to talk to people,” the Daughter of Summer continues, a note of worry in the tone of her voice. “There’s something more going on, I just don’t know what. I was thinking… maybe I should tell my Queen Mother what’s happening.”
“She will find out sooner or later,” Astra advises, her starlight eyes a bit unnerving in the way they look at her. Merla absentmindedly bites at her lip. “I have noticed nothing different about you Merla,” Lumina says matter of factly, lifting her head up in an air of proclamation. “You bring me the best treats, always compliment my beautiful scales, and help me get back at the pixies that try to steal my horde!”“You have not been around her like I have,” Astra objects dismissively. “I have known her longer than you have.”
“You have not fought in battles with her like I have.”
“I have done some of the best pranks this Court has ever seen with her.”
“You have not been there when she slew a devil.”
“Well, I have been there when she and Master Kruxeral-”
“Why don’t you have another candied fruit, Lu!” Merla interjects, holding a marzipan strawberry up to the faerie dragon’s face. Lumina quickly snatches it from her fingers and proceeds to greedily eat the candied fruit. The unmistakable sound of contented purring comes from the little dragon. “These are pretty good, for a mundane treat,” Lumina admits coyly, the previous conversation forgotten to her now. “I can tell you like them by the way your scales shimmer every time you have one,” Merla teases. Astra shakes her moonstone coloured mane, her subtle way of preening as the sunlight makes it look like liquid starlight. “I’ll try to get some more for the next time I return home.” Lumina nuzzles into Merla’s neck, giving her a little lick with her tongue. “I should head back. There are a few things I must do before I meet with my Queen Mother.” Merla offers Lumina the rest of the bag of candied fruit and the faerie dragon happily takes them, flying from her shoulders to enjoy them in the quiet of the forest. Astra kneels down, allowing Merla to get on easier. Then the two are flying above the treetops, circling back to the palace of green and gold, the hazy heat of a Summer’s Day pushing the shadows from the forefront of her mind for the first time in weeks.
After visiting the kitchens to ask the head chef for a bundle of unique spices and herbs, and a quick stop at the smithy where she retrieves a commision, Merla and Astra stand outside the closed double doors of the main hall. She thinks back to the vision she had in the Shadowfell, how she was forced to face Queen Titania in a confrontation. Her heart flutters but Merla takes a steadying breath, head tilting up as she raises her hand to knock on the thick oak and gold doors. “Shall I come with you?” Astra asks her. Merla looks up at her companion and confidant – her friend. “I would do this part on my own, though I appreciate the offer,” she says, kindly. Astra lowers her head a little, closes her eyes, then steps back. As she lifts her hand to knock the great doors swung open away from her, catching Merla by surprise. A group of dryads lead by an eladrin nearly walk right into her. “If you would just- Oh! Lady Merla,” the eladrin bows. “I almost didn’t see you there. What can I do for you today?”
“I would speak with the Queen.”
“Ah yes, she is expecting you,” they say, bowing again with a gesture for her to go in. The group of dryads move behind the official, bowing or curtsying as they see fit as Merla sweeps past them. She feels their gazes linger on her before the sound of the heavy doors closing signals their departure. The grand throne Queen Titania sits upon is imposing as Merla makes her way across the hall. Dotted around her and in various groups are all manner of denizens of the Feywild. Merla is reminded of the first time she had been brought before the Summer Queen, stepping into this very hall when she was much smaller and younger than she is now, being led by Thino. The fey of the Court do not stare at her in the same way as they did then, but like the dryads before, eyes do linger on her regardless. Queen Titania glances at Merla as she approaches but continues the conversation she is having with the Lord of Centaur’s, Skeritt. It is not the first time Merla is struck by the beauty and grace in which the Great Seelie Queen addresses those in her court. A familiar longing fills her, a desire to be the epitome of power, grace, fierceness, and bravery. All of these things and more is what Merla sees every time she looks upon the radiance of Queen Titania. I am but a shadow compared to all that she is. But maybe one day…A soft, loving smile breaks across her face as Queen Titania concludes her discussion with the Forest Walker. Then she is gesturing for Merla to come forward. When she gets to the base of the dais Merla raises her right hand, touching the imperial topaz of her circlet, then her lips, to finish with a deep curtsy, resting her fingers over her heart. There is that ripple again but it is not as strong as the first time she bowed this way when she returned from Avernus. Skerrit and his coterie of centaurs watch with inscrutable eyes. “May Summer’s Light bless my path, Great Queen Titania.”
“Summer’s Light rests upon you, Merla.”
The fey in the grand hall start to gather, expectant. Merla knew this would be coming as with each time she returns there is always some form of performance. Her light feet close the distance between them a hair’s breadth quicker than usual, causing Titania’s eyebrows to raise slightly in curious amusement. “My Queen, I would speak to you… just the two of us, if I may.”
Titania looks down at Merla, a slightly bemused smile tugging at her lips. Merla feels a familiar powerful and warm tendril brush against her mind in a gentle caress. The Seelie Queen’s expression is unreadable but she nods her head in assent. She looks at the fey gathered in the hall and without a word they all turn and quickly leave, most departing through the main double doors, but some through side doors. In no time it is just the two of them left in the giant hall. The Queen of Summer sits back on her throne of crystal and gold, a relaxed air to her as Merla comes back around to stand in front. “I am curious what it is that you ask me to dismiss my Court,” Queen Titania says, mild amusement laced through her words as she looks at Merla. The fae-bard takes a deep, steadying breath then begins to tell her Queen Mother all about the adventures she has been on… As she regales Titania with her stories, the Archfey’s demeanour slowly changes from relaxed curiosity at the supposed ascension of Egle to a focused attention at the mention of going to the Temple of the Raven Queen in the Shadowfell. By the time Merla tells the Great Seelie Queen about the visions she had, and what the Matron of Ravens had called her, Titania’s tall frame is sitting forward, looking at her with an intensity that feels dangerous to stand before. “She whispered to me, told me to strike you down. Calling you an arrogant queen who’d keeps me shackled. But I did not. I would not do anything to harm you because… I love you, Femaer*.”Queen Titania’s face is an unreadable mask, but in her eyes Merla sees a stirring of emotions. She’s just not sure if it’s because of what she just said, or everything else. “Since I received this cloak from Arvel Morningdew, since those visions, these dark omens have only gotten stronger. I’ve been noticing these changes – shadows and ravens watching me, sometimes people even being scared of me. My magic feels darker, not as warm or full of Summer. I have felt myself changing and getting stronger before but this… this feels different. The Raven Queen must have marked me in some way, but… how? What if something is happening?”Merla pauses, unsure if she should give voice to the thoughts that have been on her mind since the Shadowfell. But she’s come this far, how could she not go all the way? “What am I to you? Am I your Daughter? Or merely some passing curiosity that you show off to the fey nobles because I can play a pretty song?”
Queen Titania finally shifts, sitting back on her throne of crystal and gold as she regards Merla from farther away, the feeling of heavy scrutiny subsiding. “Merla, how could you ever doubt how important you are to me?” Titania asks, her perfect eyebrow arched over her radiant gaze, the smile of a demigod flashing for just a moment before her face settles back into a thoughtful, concerned look, staring off into the middle distance. “You have always known you were special from the moment you arrived in my court. Now it seems the Pretend Queen of Fate has recognised that too.” The Summer Queen glances down at her. “There are always schemes afoot. I need to think – leave me.”
With a sudden, somehow dismissive jolt, Merla finds herself standing in a side street in Daring Heights. *Femaer – Mother
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Post by Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed on Apr 9, 2021 11:59:53 GMT
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The Claw of Sunsets
28th to the 30th of Ches
There is a level of excitement, a flurry of activity in the Summer Court. Queen Titania is rarely still, even when she listens to Merla’s tales about what she has been doing these past weeks. Now that the Twilight Election has happened – Merla hear’s the new ruler calls herself the Queen of Ken and Cunning – the Summer Queen is already making moves. Titania strides from room to room, making decisions as Merla tells her about many things. She mentions speaking to Varis about getting his help with training the se’akhura and though he wishes her well in her endeavour, he would be unable to assist her. Merla then regales her Queen Mother with the fight she had against the Amber Duchess alongside her friend Baine, during their visit to the Court of Glory. Though the fight itself was short, Merla describes in detail each move they both made, the moves and countermoves she tried to calculate with just mere seconds to do so. Then she gets to the topic Merla really wants to discuss: Elias’ idea of a Council of Courts. She does her best to be clear in what she understands it to be, though the Daughter of Summer is still evidently battling with some uncertainty; Namely, she does not want Summer to be thought of as a villainous Court lead by a “Warmongering Queen”, but she is also unsure if Elias’ idea is possible. Gauging her Mother’s reaction to this proposal, it is clear that Titania does not think such an idea likely. The Queen of Summer does tell her however she will not stop Merla nor her friends should they wish to waste their time on such an endeavour. The uncertainty is not banished from Merla’s thoughts. Instead, a proverbial wind continues to whip at her mind, threatening to plague it with doubts. She does not, will not let it. Merla tells her Queen Mother one final update: the Master of Revelries is doing fine, though he is still in a comatose state. Over the past weeks she has been working with a druid, Khazifa, who is brewing a rare potion that will help her get Kruxeral’s mind back from where it is trapped. She mentions, as part of the bargain with the Archdruid, Khazifa is to have an open VIP invitation for life to all future revels at the Summer Court. This elicits a laugh from Titania. “An invitation does not mean one cannot get thrown out – but that sounds fine, Daughter.” Merla does not mention where Kruxeral’s mind is held hostage – or any ties he had to do with the Black Heart Cabal, nor does it seem that her Queen Mother suspects anything.
A letter awaits Merla upon her return from the Summer Court. She recognises the elegant scrawl right away, barely waiting for the acolyte of Selune to leave before she breaks the seal and begins to read. Astra is bombarded by the range of emotions her mistress has as she reads the letter silently and quickly. The winged unicorn is about to speak but Merla is already racing down to the main lobby where she asks Yoru when it arrived. “Just this morning,” the dwarf replies, glancing up from the bookkeeping she is doing whilst greeting guests as they come down for lunch. Her gaze lingers on Merla’s bright and wild eyes for a moment before returning to her work. Merla stands there a moment, clutching the letter to her chest. She slowly starts to make her way back to the stairs when a neatly printed, bold lettered notice catches her eye. She stands there, staring at the piece of parchment for a time, a small, hopeful smile softening the sharp features of Merla’s face. She has not met the Bear King personally, but if he has given his word to stand against one of the strongest Archfey in order to protect Daring Heights, then she will count him as an ally. For the first time in weeks the fae-bard hums a quiet melody as she ascends the stairs, the light of hope taking root once more in her bosom. |
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