so you wanna play with magic?
The Deserts isn't the only thing she's left hanging. Her little group, her little force of mischief and mayhem, they too had been more or less left hanging. But she's not inclined to feel guilty over that. Really she's not generally inclined toward guilt just as a personality thing, but if she were going to feel guilt, well, she wouldn't waste it on her little band of misfits.
It's not that she dislikes them – oh no, she's perfectly fond of them. It's just that if they were going to fall down and break apart because of a little absence from her, well, then they weren't the kind that she thought they were in the first place. They needed to be strong, to be tempered and hard like metal, to be able to be resilient, to be able to bounce back no matter what.
But even if she doesn't want to coddle them like so many children, she still intends for them to be useful. And to that end, well, it's time to pick up where she left off.
She stands in the middle of the meadow. Well, not the meadow, more her meadow. It is morning, perhaps, or evening, or the middle of the night. It's a magic hour, a witching hour, and the mist is thick. It clings to the grass and to the trees, settling into the hollows like a blanket over a sleeping figure. But Camrynn is not sleeping (does she even sleep?). Instead, she stands alone in this secluded portion of the meadow, and reaches out with her magic.
Invisible, unknowable, her power crosses the distance between herself and the Valley. It wraps gently around Rhynn, sinking deep into everything that the little mare is. Perhaps the girl feels a prickling sensation, as though something is nagging at the back of her mind. Perhaps it tickles a little bit, or perhaps it is simply calming, like a gentle breeze. But whatever it feels like to her, by the time Camrynn is done, her little gift to Rhynn is poised to activate. The gift she'd promised so long ago is wrapped around the girl, invisible and intangible.
But it's not active. Not yet.
Rhynn. the voice is gentle in her mind, a sense of whispered command combined with an overwhelming desire to come to the spot where Camrynn now stands. It's almost wordless – it might have been wordless, even – but it is unmistakable. Camrynn is (respectfully and yet firmly) summoning Rhynn to join her here, in this secret meadow. The sensation builds and concentrates itself in the mark she bears on her left elbow, as though an inferno of heat is building there. It won't glow, it won't even look or feel any different to anyone other than Rhynn. But Rhynn would know. And Rhynn would know where to go, know how to find this place where she's never been, and where none but her could even go.
And in the secret meadow-within-the-meadow, Rhynn will find the Queen Illuminate, glowing like mist made flesh in the impossibility of this little enclave. As is her custom, she is everything rolled into one, an indescribable glowing vapor that seems to radiate light from within. Her form is as elegant as ever, and her voice when she speaks will be a silent boom, an unmistakable resonance of thousands in a whisper. Her eyes will glow silver – pinpricks of fitting brightness against the gloom around them.
And here, in this little magic enclave, in this little half-world, the Queen Illuminate is finally ready to give her boon. But first, Rhynn will have to decide to come, decide to serve, decide to commit herself again. And Camrynn isn't at all sure it'll be an easy decision. But she's content to wait. She's in no rush at all.
It's not that she dislikes them – oh no, she's perfectly fond of them. It's just that if they were going to fall down and break apart because of a little absence from her, well, then they weren't the kind that she thought they were in the first place. They needed to be strong, to be tempered and hard like metal, to be able to be resilient, to be able to bounce back no matter what.
But even if she doesn't want to coddle them like so many children, she still intends for them to be useful. And to that end, well, it's time to pick up where she left off.
She stands in the middle of the meadow. Well, not the meadow, more her meadow. It is morning, perhaps, or evening, or the middle of the night. It's a magic hour, a witching hour, and the mist is thick. It clings to the grass and to the trees, settling into the hollows like a blanket over a sleeping figure. But Camrynn is not sleeping (does she even sleep?). Instead, she stands alone in this secluded portion of the meadow, and reaches out with her magic.
Invisible, unknowable, her power crosses the distance between herself and the Valley. It wraps gently around Rhynn, sinking deep into everything that the little mare is. Perhaps the girl feels a prickling sensation, as though something is nagging at the back of her mind. Perhaps it tickles a little bit, or perhaps it is simply calming, like a gentle breeze. But whatever it feels like to her, by the time Camrynn is done, her little gift to Rhynn is poised to activate. The gift she'd promised so long ago is wrapped around the girl, invisible and intangible.
But it's not active. Not yet.
Rhynn. the voice is gentle in her mind, a sense of whispered command combined with an overwhelming desire to come to the spot where Camrynn now stands. It's almost wordless – it might have been wordless, even – but it is unmistakable. Camrynn is (respectfully and yet firmly) summoning Rhynn to join her here, in this secret meadow. The sensation builds and concentrates itself in the mark she bears on her left elbow, as though an inferno of heat is building there. It won't glow, it won't even look or feel any different to anyone other than Rhynn. But Rhynn would know. And Rhynn would know where to go, know how to find this place where she's never been, and where none but her could even go.
And in the secret meadow-within-the-meadow, Rhynn will find the Queen Illuminate, glowing like mist made flesh in the impossibility of this little enclave. As is her custom, she is everything rolled into one, an indescribable glowing vapor that seems to radiate light from within. Her form is as elegant as ever, and her voice when she speaks will be a silent boom, an unmistakable resonance of thousands in a whisper. Her eyes will glow silver – pinpricks of fitting brightness against the gloom around them.
And here, in this little magic enclave, in this little half-world, the Queen Illuminate is finally ready to give her boon. But first, Rhynn will have to decide to come, decide to serve, decide to commit herself again. And Camrynn isn't at all sure it'll be an easy decision. But she's content to wait. She's in no rush at all.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
@[Tinsel] I did a thing <3
