Moonstone Quarry [m] snow trickles

A flower, silver and white dipped in golden hues, unfurled slowly as heat from the sun’s rays caressed it to bloom. Grasses of green tranquility swayed in the wind, while gilded birds of peace drifted above, calling out to the gods.

….

Answer, they did—singing their praises, words carried along golden wings, only to fall and shatter the earth. Power with intertwined elements of stone and fire called forth a haven, a place of power. A place of love and reverence.

Photo by Ali Aldoul on Unsplash/manip by KITT

Words of Solharr’s, spoken before the resurrection of his love in her name, drifted on the wind in their wake: “dreams aren’t soft things, fleur. they bite. they bleed us. but sometimes.…they carry us farther than fear ever could.” She had dreamt so many dreams, many tears shed from pain, from loneliness, but, this time? This time was different.

They bled, they burned, but there were no tears. None flowed in this dream that conjured itself from two, lost hearts colliding, become one eternal. Each touch, each kiss leaving its mark; her heart, her soul, there was no discrimination as to where they landed, branding her for all to see. Forever.

Their scents mixed, in and around them, above and below. There was no where to turn that did not hold remnants of being engulfed in each other’s blaze. 

But all things come to an end, and when their infernal blaze died to smoldering embers, the couple sank into the furs her love had gifted, some given out of duty, others gifted when fires were stoked over time, coals glowing at the hearth. 

Their story, written in each scrap of hide, singing in every rise and fall of their chests as they drifted, curled in each other.

Never parting. Never letting go.

fade here <333