so you wanna play with magic?
The magic-mare has a special affinity for things that are, well, special. She has a keen eye for otherwise hidden talents, a delicate nose capable of sniffing out even the least little bit of more-than. Perhaps it is her innate desire to know everything. Perhaps it is an unbearable drive to understand, to comprehend. Or maybe she's just nosy.
When she had first returned to Beqanna, she had made a point of getting to know all of the resident magicians. It had proved an interesting and rewarding task, one that had given her a charming interlude with Evrae and a far longer and more complicated relationship with Eight. Strange star-crossed magic lovers that they were, they always seemed to find each other.
Since then, she's grown largely complacent, because there haven't been all that many magic horses to track down and interview. She's been busy (you know, ruling a kingdom, recruiting a secret personal army and all) but there also just haven't been many with gifts.
That is, until now.
It's been some time since Jason's return and the magician has watched him. Never in a way he'd know it, unless he were to go digging for it. She watches him through the eyes of others, hearing him through their ears, plucking his comings and his goings from their collective memory. At first, she wonders if he is simply stubborn, determined to stick it out in the Gates despite the fact that the kingdom is eating his magic. But as time goes on she becomes increasingly convinced that he simply doesn't know. She can't even imagine it, to feel powerless as your power slips away – she couldn't do it, couldn't surrender it. Camrynn is magic, and magic is Camrynn. They are intertwined and cannot be separated.
Perhaps that will end poorly for her one day.
But if so, that day is not today. Today she is lingering on the fringes of the Deserts, bathing in the heat, waiting. And when Jason returns from the field, passing through the Meadow, pausing for just a moment, she appears beside him without so much as a sound. She wonders briefly if he has enough magic left to have felt her presence before she appeared.
She is a beautiful thing, all grace and lean curves. She is pure black, no markings at all, the perfect canvas to become anything she wants to be. Across her chest a gilded crook-and-flail stand out proud against the black, the symbol of her stewardship in the Deserts. Across one cheek, a string of diamonds and gemstones drapes beautifully, the equine equivalent of a necklace. For the moment, her eyes are a deep, unearthly cerulean blue.
She is quiet for a moment, regarding the stallion with magic far more ancient than her own (soon, she thinks, soon) and then she offers him a smile. "Jason." her tones are warm, friendly. Around her, the meadow fades into silence as they slip away from the rest of the world, a ship in the mists, guided by Cam's powers. Her voice is warm, like liquid velvet, pleasant and comforting all at once. "It's a pleasure to meet a fellow magician." She smiles, pausing for just a fraction of a second.
"Oh, but I'm being rude. I'm Camrynn." and that is all she says – not anything more about herself, not her titles, not anything beyond her name. Even though he should already know her, should already know everything. Somehow, she suspects that he doesn't.
Pity.
When she had first returned to Beqanna, she had made a point of getting to know all of the resident magicians. It had proved an interesting and rewarding task, one that had given her a charming interlude with Evrae and a far longer and more complicated relationship with Eight. Strange star-crossed magic lovers that they were, they always seemed to find each other.
Since then, she's grown largely complacent, because there haven't been all that many magic horses to track down and interview. She's been busy (you know, ruling a kingdom, recruiting a secret personal army and all) but there also just haven't been many with gifts.
That is, until now.
It's been some time since Jason's return and the magician has watched him. Never in a way he'd know it, unless he were to go digging for it. She watches him through the eyes of others, hearing him through their ears, plucking his comings and his goings from their collective memory. At first, she wonders if he is simply stubborn, determined to stick it out in the Gates despite the fact that the kingdom is eating his magic. But as time goes on she becomes increasingly convinced that he simply doesn't know. She can't even imagine it, to feel powerless as your power slips away – she couldn't do it, couldn't surrender it. Camrynn is magic, and magic is Camrynn. They are intertwined and cannot be separated.
Perhaps that will end poorly for her one day.
But if so, that day is not today. Today she is lingering on the fringes of the Deserts, bathing in the heat, waiting. And when Jason returns from the field, passing through the Meadow, pausing for just a moment, she appears beside him without so much as a sound. She wonders briefly if he has enough magic left to have felt her presence before she appeared.
She is a beautiful thing, all grace and lean curves. She is pure black, no markings at all, the perfect canvas to become anything she wants to be. Across her chest a gilded crook-and-flail stand out proud against the black, the symbol of her stewardship in the Deserts. Across one cheek, a string of diamonds and gemstones drapes beautifully, the equine equivalent of a necklace. For the moment, her eyes are a deep, unearthly cerulean blue.
She is quiet for a moment, regarding the stallion with magic far more ancient than her own (soon, she thinks, soon) and then she offers him a smile. "Jason." her tones are warm, friendly. Around her, the meadow fades into silence as they slip away from the rest of the world, a ship in the mists, guided by Cam's powers. Her voice is warm, like liquid velvet, pleasant and comforting all at once. "It's a pleasure to meet a fellow magician." She smiles, pausing for just a fraction of a second.
"Oh, but I'm being rude. I'm Camrynn." and that is all she says – not anything more about herself, not her titles, not anything beyond her name. Even though he should already know her, should already know everything. Somehow, she suspects that he doesn't.
Pity.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
@[Sprite]