Arrow Lake ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim

“That much of an improvement, is it?” The optio’s tone was flat, leaden with dry jest; half-blinded gaze noted the raised ruff. “Ze one who did this to me,” wan curl at her lips now fading back into somber neutrality, “was ze same male who did this before. A long time ago.” Aure would spare Ingram the... details she’d once relayed to the guardian she still loved.

Instead, she turned from Reina’s own suitor, and trailed off to the shores of the lake nearby. As her pearling claws clicked on stone, trepidation suddenly seized at her heart. Ever-insecurity held her nerves fast, just as she meant to peek into the waters. ‘You’re flawless,’ Verx had once claimed. ‘Bones and all.’ 

With an adamant growl through her fangs, Aurëwen marched in, ankle-deep, and looked.

Her face had refracted, refigured. Dennan’s newest addition had been inscribed into her as, whether he’d meant it or not, some forsworn insignia. Eyes remained brushed with stardust, and yet one would pale in comparison to the other. She would never see her children or her beloved with two eyes again — or the stars she’d once been so fond of.

Fitting, she mused, seeing as I’ve been tending to ze earth. This new coronation of red hurts was hideous— she looked ruinous and felt ruined. “His work precedes him,” was what she drawled to Ingram, low and mirthless. But Aure continued to study herself; because if she’d been thought of as beautiful... then it must lie somewhere. ...Right?