you've been so still, barely beating at all

Zafina · March 02, 2019, 10:48 AM

Imprisoned, banished, into a nexus of my own design...
Now Time mocks me, and my sentence is Gravity.

He was falling under the Divine’s curse, her ability to entangle minds with ease of a mastered hand. It was a curse, because as a mortal herself, her apathy grew weaker, her own attachment taking root with every wisp of words through sharp pearl ivories.
She had suspected it with Corvus. But this man, a man no older than her own current catalyst, she was bewitching and too, falling under.

“She has not,” she regretfully informed. “But it is because she, as the rest of your Etheral Princes, watch, ensuring it is you who meets me.” Almost a cheeky cant of her head, something akin to a modest, shy fae, but one fully aware of her hex upon her company. A cut of garnets slipped almost abashedly from him, her words a tease. “She hasn’t even told me your name.”

The blessing of gentle murmur caressed his auds as the the Sahira called over her slender shoulder. She could idly imagine it forcing even the most hardened of hearts to weep.

“If you tell me your’s,” her smile released the fresh exhale of a morning glory’s first blossom.

“I will tell you mine.”

Her promise, a sacred one despite how easily name’s were handed freely through these times. Names had power, much more than simply ‘what sound do I speak to catch your attention’. It was a summon to your very essence, the binding twine which crafted you, your existence. The Ancients begot this law, and she was annoyed with mortals and their inability to respect such resounding practice.
But their foolish ways had been set, it seemed.

But every sky will build my throne.