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11-14-2013, 12:51 PM
The reaction of those before her was even more astonishing than the news that she was without her most beloved friend, their faces nearly all reflecting that they cared little for the change in hierarchy that aroused such overwhelming feelings of betrayal within her heart. To each defending voice she turned her eyes, but she did not see them past their words, meeting her ears like stones cast at a nude and bound victim of some cruel joke. Golden gaze observing a world within her head, she accepted the queries of the newly appointed Haruspex and found that she could not argue these valid citations of the man's character - and yet, still, she felt a sincere wrongness in the allegations that such a faithful pet of the Empress would so emotionlessly announce her departure from their ranks. Surely, of all those who stood to hear their words, Deimos understood the value of a woman such as Psyche; how could he remain so cold and emotionless despite the measure of what they had lost? It deepened her bitterness towards the reality of her life at this moment, that she was forced to rule alongside a man who was so without a soul that he could express no remorse for even as fine a queen and friend as the black mare had been to them all. That he sent the chills of fear racing through her with his void-like demeanor was nothing in comparison to this insult - a robot, a man of hardened, lifeless steel, a being that had seemed at ease in the shadows of the outskirts until this moment and still seemed to slumber in the state of introversion that had been his life as she had observed it, and he was to be their king?
What silent statue had ever led anyone?
Arah's words slipped through her like knives, so calmly stated, the bitter truths of the matters that had come to pass. She set aside her grief for the friend that would no longer stand alongside her, hearing the Lord acquitted of all crimes but one that she had pinned him guilty for; he had done nothing to stop her, at least not enough to have warranted a place in the silvery doe's tale of events, and the shard that had slipped into her core at the sound of Huyana's voice, a metallic gleam that said the black man alongside her hadn't cared at all for the woman who had led him until now, pressed it's heavy edge deeper into her soul.
She stood among so many without any true loyalty to those that led them. Sobering, the pill slipped down her throat like a swap of cotton, so difficult to swallow, and now her hollow gaze filled with a look of consideration, each face searched for a flicker of anything other than disregard and emptiness. For the first time since having gained her position, she feared for herself; slowly, her ear slid to the word's that ushered forth from the Lord's lips himself, her trembling flesh further upset by the insulting tone.
She was alone in her love. A steel bound resolve found itself wrapped tightly about her in this moment, her rage subsiding into a subtle upset of the emotional currents she normally kept low and controlled. If she was to be alone in her thoughts and concerns, then she would make adjustments to protect her own back from the cold knives of these murderous and untrustworthy fakes; raising her crown proudly, her voice lilted forth, plans writhing in the back of her mind even as the words formed themselves on the pleasant mountain air, "His loyalties did not reach to those who provided his orders, and I may not be swayed from this opinion; if he does hold concern for our losses," a golden orb lazily swept over to look upon the black warrior, "his ability to express these things is quite impressive. The Lady Psyche led us for many seasons and brought us many great achievements; to mourn such a loss seems to be only logical, especially to one as connected and faithful as the Lord Deimos."
Her voice lowered, her features turning more fully towards the man alongside her, a whisper sent to his ears that she kept from the rest of those watching, "We have gained nothing in this exchange but a weakened military and a statue wearing a crown. Whatever your intent, the price has been high. I am not so ignorant, sir, rather than confused as to the state and position of your heart." A pause filled the air between the calls of those who wished to fill the voids left in the wake of this miniature disaster and her whispered blame, her lips silently sounding out the words: all of your hearts.
She would begin her search for Psyche in the morning following, she promised herself, the invisible spirit of her friend. She owed the woman as much for being as faithful and stalwart a companion as she had been, the bringer of such glories as this snow peaked mountain.
Slipping into a noiseless figure that seemed more suited to Deimos than herself, she let the black carry forth the rest of the business, sourly absorbing the disfigurement of the carefully painted figure of the man she had held in her head until now. To hear his words so often and in such plethora was odd, his deep voice strangely soothing to her despite her ire towards him and those around her; the words were of change, growth, a rebuilding of the towers that seemed to be ceaselessly crumbling around her. Partially rousing her from the riverbed of sorrow she had slipped deep into, however, was the centaur, the most unique being among them all, to be sure, responding to her inquiries as to how they might improve their foundations.
Dark rimmed ears lifted and harkened to his words, a sparkle of curiosity lighting in her gaze even as the Lord extinguished her chance to respond to the man. Though it ruffled her already dislodged feathers further, she remained silent, a soft smile beaming forth in the direction of the half human being that the good Doctor had brought home to cover the snarl that threatened to release the rancor she had only just crammed back into it's rusty cage.
The late arriving outcast draw a similar visage of friendliness to her, the mare knowing his face from the secret meetings of the Plague and relating him, in many ways, to be similar to the gruff and unkempt Ulrik. His offer to join their contest of ranking pulled her a little further out of her hopeless stupor - she had not known the other to put his name forward, handsome as he may have been, but this man was a tried and true member of her species. A pang of sadness washed through her as she thought of their hidden coven; who would guide them now? Would the Empress still wear her crown of bones, though she had cast aside the one of ice? "I wish you well in the tournament," sincerely stated the wench, a delicate nod cast to him before she returned her attentions to Kelec to hear his ideas on improvements that might be made to the land, struggling with her heart's need to mourn the absence of it's only beloved friend.
What silent statue had ever led anyone?
Arah's words slipped through her like knives, so calmly stated, the bitter truths of the matters that had come to pass. She set aside her grief for the friend that would no longer stand alongside her, hearing the Lord acquitted of all crimes but one that she had pinned him guilty for; he had done nothing to stop her, at least not enough to have warranted a place in the silvery doe's tale of events, and the shard that had slipped into her core at the sound of Huyana's voice, a metallic gleam that said the black man alongside her hadn't cared at all for the woman who had led him until now, pressed it's heavy edge deeper into her soul.
She stood among so many without any true loyalty to those that led them. Sobering, the pill slipped down her throat like a swap of cotton, so difficult to swallow, and now her hollow gaze filled with a look of consideration, each face searched for a flicker of anything other than disregard and emptiness. For the first time since having gained her position, she feared for herself; slowly, her ear slid to the word's that ushered forth from the Lord's lips himself, her trembling flesh further upset by the insulting tone.
She was alone in her love. A steel bound resolve found itself wrapped tightly about her in this moment, her rage subsiding into a subtle upset of the emotional currents she normally kept low and controlled. If she was to be alone in her thoughts and concerns, then she would make adjustments to protect her own back from the cold knives of these murderous and untrustworthy fakes; raising her crown proudly, her voice lilted forth, plans writhing in the back of her mind even as the words formed themselves on the pleasant mountain air, "His loyalties did not reach to those who provided his orders, and I may not be swayed from this opinion; if he does hold concern for our losses," a golden orb lazily swept over to look upon the black warrior, "his ability to express these things is quite impressive. The Lady Psyche led us for many seasons and brought us many great achievements; to mourn such a loss seems to be only logical, especially to one as connected and faithful as the Lord Deimos."
Her voice lowered, her features turning more fully towards the man alongside her, a whisper sent to his ears that she kept from the rest of those watching, "We have gained nothing in this exchange but a weakened military and a statue wearing a crown. Whatever your intent, the price has been high. I am not so ignorant, sir, rather than confused as to the state and position of your heart." A pause filled the air between the calls of those who wished to fill the voids left in the wake of this miniature disaster and her whispered blame, her lips silently sounding out the words: all of your hearts.
She would begin her search for Psyche in the morning following, she promised herself, the invisible spirit of her friend. She owed the woman as much for being as faithful and stalwart a companion as she had been, the bringer of such glories as this snow peaked mountain.
Slipping into a noiseless figure that seemed more suited to Deimos than herself, she let the black carry forth the rest of the business, sourly absorbing the disfigurement of the carefully painted figure of the man she had held in her head until now. To hear his words so often and in such plethora was odd, his deep voice strangely soothing to her despite her ire towards him and those around her; the words were of change, growth, a rebuilding of the towers that seemed to be ceaselessly crumbling around her. Partially rousing her from the riverbed of sorrow she had slipped deep into, however, was the centaur, the most unique being among them all, to be sure, responding to her inquiries as to how they might improve their foundations.
Dark rimmed ears lifted and harkened to his words, a sparkle of curiosity lighting in her gaze even as the Lord extinguished her chance to respond to the man. Though it ruffled her already dislodged feathers further, she remained silent, a soft smile beaming forth in the direction of the half human being that the good Doctor had brought home to cover the snarl that threatened to release the rancor she had only just crammed back into it's rusty cage.
The late arriving outcast draw a similar visage of friendliness to her, the mare knowing his face from the secret meetings of the Plague and relating him, in many ways, to be similar to the gruff and unkempt Ulrik. His offer to join their contest of ranking pulled her a little further out of her hopeless stupor - she had not known the other to put his name forward, handsome as he may have been, but this man was a tried and true member of her species. A pang of sadness washed through her as she thought of their hidden coven; who would guide them now? Would the Empress still wear her crown of bones, though she had cast aside the one of ice? "I wish you well in the tournament," sincerely stated the wench, a delicate nod cast to him before she returned her attentions to Kelec to hear his ideas on improvements that might be made to the land, struggling with her heart's need to mourn the absence of it's only beloved friend.
