CASIMIRA
dragon-shifting daughter of ashhal and ryatah
Her brief meeting with Helice had finally stoked the ember of curiosity she had been harboring for the underwater kingdom into a flame, and so when the invitation is extended for the feast they will be hosting, Casimira does not hesitate to accept. She knows Savior will not mind looking after Tephra, and she does not expect to be gone long. Social gatherings are still not her area of expertise, as she often found small talk and conversation to be clumsy, though she was getting better at navigating them.
When she reaches the water’s edge and feels hesitation tighten in her chest, it is easy to remind herself that she is not just attending for curiosity's sake, but as a duty as Tephra’s queen, too. She would never think herself to be the best queen, but she is far from the worst. She has been careful to secure alliances or at least a sense of neutrality with the other two existing kingdoms, and while it might be a far-fetched hope, she would like to be on cordial terms with the underwater kingdom, too.
And so she cautiously takes the plant that is meant to aid her in breathing underwater, and it is not long before she can feel something changing. She is still skeptical even as she takes those first few steps into the water, and with every move forward it envelopes more of her, her white dragon scales glistening. She is chest deep when a trickle of fear races down her spine, as she imagines taking in a lungful of water and wonders what it is like to drown—she knows her serial immortality would bring her back, as it has before, but she still does not want to feel what it means to die in this way.
She tries anyway.
She sinks beneath the surface and she inhales, and instead of choking on the ocean water it feels like breathing in air, and her ice-blue eyes widen in shock and wonder.
For a moment, she almost forgets that she is down here for a reason. For a moment, she wants to see what the world is like beneath the waves while she has the chance, to explore as much as she can in the sparse time she has been allotted.
But she remembers herself, remembers the intangible weight of the crown she wears, and she makes her way to Baltia.
She swims—surely not nearly as graceful as those that were actually born for it—until signs of some kind of civilization become visible. The strange scattering of statues, the illuminating glow of underwater gardens, and then the glowing white prince that stands at the entrance. She returns his brilliant smile with a slightly more subdued one of her own—always quiet, but never unfriendly. “Thank you,” she had been unsure what her voice might be like underwater, is surprised to find that it is clear despite the taste of saltwater on her tongue. “I’m Casimira, queen of Tephra, the western kingdom.” She takes the time to slowly survey their surroundings: the various guards that stand watch, the others that mill around closer to where the actual feast will take place. Her ice-blue eyes find their way back to him, the small smile still present on her mouth. “It was kind of you all to open up your home to us that live on land. I’m sure there are others that have been just as curious as I am.”