even a n g e l s fall
I wonder what it might be to fly, to feel the wind beneath feathers, whipping through tendrils of mane, feeling weightless against the sky. I wonder, and it is all I can do. There is a throb of envy, though it small, inconvenient and pointless, it is there nonetheless. Straia, dear Raven Goddess, Raven Queen, dressed in ebony feathers with a crown of thorns and ash and replete with feathers. She, she knows what it is like. And I often watch the skies for her, but I never know which one of the birds she is. They all replete the skies with their dark silhouettes. And I, I just simply admire them from down below, four feet firmly upon the ground.
Elysteria is polite, courteous. The way that a diplomat is normally. Honeyed words and polished tongues. Sapphire eyes watch her as she moves, without wings at all. Is it remarkably intriguing. I cock my sculptured head to the side, sapphire eyes lost behind the golden spun tresses. I say no more, am simply awed, still, by the magic that beats such a rhythmic pulse in Beqanna. A magic that throbs beneath my flinty hooves, within the heart of the Chamber.
'Charmed, I'm sure.' Black magic and silver lace slips from my tongue, a smooth, debonair grin etches upon my salmon muzzle as I clock Straia's entrance. The ground seems to throb more, a pulse livening beneath. The magic that dons her, she wears like a cloak, it thrums against the atmosphere and I feel her presence before she is even there. I dip my nose, as soon as she steps beside me. 'Straia. We have a guest.' my smile is smooth, never flickering. I turn my attention back to the bay toned mare, a curious brow tilting.
'Welcome to the Chamber, Elysteria.' Because formalities are always in check, and if discussions are had, there would be a welcome deemed fit for most, and as hospitable as the Chamber could possibly be. And for a kingdom that is brimming with activity and life, and so very much dark promise, the welcoming was a dark delight indeed. I pose a quick question, an eye keen, astute upon the Governor. 'What is your new King like, Elysteria?' For questions never go amiss, and there is always wonder. tongues never fail to amuse, to intertwine with such whimsical words. I say no more, closing my lips tightly and allowing the painted Queen her rightful turn. I was merely an underling who spun silvery threads beneath the Raven Goddess. She, she was the one with the bite, the power.
engelsfors
advisor of the chamber