10-03-2019, 02:47 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Not a warrior, not a diplomat. Yet she steers toward something still, silkily adds that her expertise lies elsewhere, but she does not elaborate. It’s enough to flake away the rust off the gears, to get his mind stirring with thoughts. It had been easy to find work for the others when Beqanna drowned in mayhem, but the world has since quieted. Castile remains at the ready, poised to jump into action even as silence reverberates.
Peace, he knows, never lasts for long.
Yet even as he gropes for an answer, for a purpose, she continues to guide him with a sultry voice and ambitious eyes. His head inclines, fascinated by her and the boldness that weaves itself into her voice. A question tickles his lips, wanting – craving – to know more of what she did for her last king, but she offers a vague continuation that spurs a blade of mistrust into his heart. She is a woman of nowhere, yet everywhere. There is a purpose in every visit she makes, every step that steers her. A low hum coils from his nostrils in black, smoky tendrils. ”How do I know then that you aren’t already belonging to an enemy?” There are few among them nowadays. Much of Beqanna has been united through friendship and trust, but there still remains outsiders. There will always be enemies of the crown. And so, he cannot help to wonder, is she a poisonous apple laid at his feet? A trap of temptation?
Even in his wisdom, Castile is still a foolish man with silly impulsions.
”No,” he finally states, his answer clipped and curt as his gaze searches her. ”There is surely something you can do here – some role that can be filled outside of the traditional ranks.”A specific title escapes him, but that can always be fixed with further contemplation. As Loess brims with life and passion, as it lies in wait for action, there can surely be a place for her. ”You will stay,” he remarks, his voice cool as the rising dawn, ”and maybe you will show me what suits you.” She will be his answer, her future hanging on a hook as bait.
Peace, he knows, never lasts for long.
Yet even as he gropes for an answer, for a purpose, she continues to guide him with a sultry voice and ambitious eyes. His head inclines, fascinated by her and the boldness that weaves itself into her voice. A question tickles his lips, wanting – craving – to know more of what she did for her last king, but she offers a vague continuation that spurs a blade of mistrust into his heart. She is a woman of nowhere, yet everywhere. There is a purpose in every visit she makes, every step that steers her. A low hum coils from his nostrils in black, smoky tendrils. ”How do I know then that you aren’t already belonging to an enemy?” There are few among them nowadays. Much of Beqanna has been united through friendship and trust, but there still remains outsiders. There will always be enemies of the crown. And so, he cannot help to wonder, is she a poisonous apple laid at his feet? A trap of temptation?
Even in his wisdom, Castile is still a foolish man with silly impulsions.
”No,” he finally states, his answer clipped and curt as his gaze searches her. ”There is surely something you can do here – some role that can be filled outside of the traditional ranks.”A specific title escapes him, but that can always be fixed with further contemplation. As Loess brims with life and passion, as it lies in wait for action, there can surely be a place for her. ”You will stay,” he remarks, his voice cool as the rising dawn, ”and maybe you will show me what suits you.” She will be his answer, her future hanging on a hook as bait.
castile
@[Nimue Isolde]