Själ

Silence fell heavily around the pair, and the princess gazed into the distance uncomfortably. Rikyn's question about other world had disturbed her in a way, made her wonder about all that she thought she knew. Mother had promised her this world, over and over again, telling tales of other lands, of how she had travelled from afar to take her place as the rightful Empress of this realm. Never had she considered the existence of other worlds, nor had she had a reason to. She had not been here when the Rifts had opened, had not met any travelers from within the torn place of existence. It had been just as easy for her to pretend that it hadn't happened than to face the question of why it had and what it meant.

Now, though -- the colt before her had opened her eyes to the possibility of more, leaving her feeling rather small and insignificant. If she had been meant to rule, one day, what use was a single realm among hundreds, a tiny world among thousands? Why should she bother to try to be anything at all when there was always something more, something bigger, something better out there, hiding just beyond her view? What was the point of it all?

When the boy spoke again, it was with a terse smile and clipped words, leading the princess to think again. His supposition that the Rift was nothing more than another land, like Isilme, made her face grow hot with shame. He must think her terribly stupid: as he talked of other worlds among the stars, her mind was wrongfully stuck, unable to see beyond their own, physical world. The girl glanced down. "You're probably right," she admitted. "I hadn't thought of that. I wasn't here when the Rifts opened, so I've only heard stories. Tall tales always make things seem grander than they actually are." The explanation was, perhaps, petulant and childish, but it made her feel better to imagine that he wouldn't think her a complete idiot.

His next words were fervent and heated, taking the princess aback with their ferocity. She gazed at him in silence, one brow raised and a hint of alarm in her eyes, for perhaps the colt was, in fact, insane. A world made of dreams? Why, if that were true, then they would visit it every night as they slept! And how could it be a world of perfection when everyone thought of "perfect" differently? "I guess it's possible," she said dubiously, the one raised brow the only hint of her disbelief. Then: "I haven't thought much about worlds beyond this one before."

"Speak."
--Ansgar.--