Essetia

Look at the wake from the stardust pouring from your eyes

Still, the chilling whisper of the winter breeze pressed secrets against her skin. The mare had paused but it did little in the way of offering her purpose in the midst of much directionless pondering- this is, until all arrows landed north. Romul was the first of the two to recognize their company, though certainly not by name. It was his caution and curiosity that encouraged Essetia herself to level the brute with an inquisitive stare. On most occasions the spy was accustomed to evading the chance of small talk and more often than not, she was allowed such reprieve. But this time felt different- his gaze was too expectant, too open… as if he were encouraging her to approach. For a time Essetia merely watched him, her pale eyes dipping along the planes of his back and shoulders and then resurfacing to ponder the three dagger-like horns in which he was crowned. She’d never seen the likes of him before, but it didn’t serve to surprise her that such specimens were privy to the council of the Throat. He appeared like the rest of them: war-hardened and arrogant. Yet, those were traits that Essetia adored to dismantle. She was his counterpart in battle and the serpent that was meant to caress his ear with her silver tongue.

In truth, they were meant to stand hand in hand, but Essetia found it a difficult fact to accept. She was anything but powerful, yet she still possessed the wit and courage of a creature twice her merit. On a whim, the spy obliged her onlooker and moved forth to greet him upon the snow-kissed sands. Before reaching him, she called to him from afar, her lips quivering from the slight smile she tried to repress. “Do you think yourself a King?” she questioned sardonically. “Am I to bow before your Majesty or are you mortal like everyone else?”

Romul came to tend his companion and heeled alongside her shoulder as she moved. The two were methodical- a duo that had been given enough time to reason one another’s demands and sacrifice for them as well. Perhaps it was no wonder that the wolf huffed and snorted when it appeared to him that Essetia had drawn too close to their foreign company, even if he too seemed bathed in the heat and sand of the Throat. His burning red stare testified to that. His body spoke of war, or at least of bloodshed, and his demeanor told gruesome tales of a past Essetia did not care to know. She’d seen enough death to last her a lifetime… of course the loss of loved ones far outweighed the killing of traitorous adversaries.

When at last there was a comfortable distance between them, Essetia made a show of inspecting the brute with an admirable stare. It took her some time, but she wanted nothing more than to arrive at her point, to seal the game she’d started with a poisonous kiss. “You’re certainly no God,” she began lightly, “and no King… So what are you that gives you the right to hold yourself as such? I hear an inflated ego offends the ladies these days,” she finished with a polite, but steady smile. It was the first time she’d been properly amused since finding Caneo in the Threshold… though this heated exchange was nothing of the like. After all, she wasn’t trying to start a war within her family- she just wanted to start a fire.