The Basin didn’t crumble – she’d seen it many times before. They’d waged wars, faltered, but failed to fully erode. They’d staged invasions, but failed to completely fall apart. They launched tirades, passions, ardors, flung themselves headlong into battle, into disaster, into ruin, into abominations, but failed to deteriorate. There were always momentary lulls, where plans went awry, where methods, schemes, and mannerisms went undetected, where the walls had threatened to crash, smolder, and dissolve around them – but lord, they’d persevered. They were hardy, they were determined, they were stalwart and staunch, proud citizens born from the ice, from the rubble, from the ruin, always ready, always fervent, always eager for the next plunge – and she’d smiled, she’d craved, she’d dreamed right alongside them. So even amidst the savage wilderness, even within the instability, the changing leaders, the altering monarchs, she believed they’d find their ground again.
 
The God of Time, as unrelenting as his empire, had named one more to the rotation of reigning Kings and Queens, and as she stared into the sky, the depths of her smile grew broad, grew warm, grew tender. Rikyn’s name flashed amongst the heavens, and despite the animosity, the hostility, entangled beyond it (because Aisling had disappeared; and there was no root cause, no known notion), her heart, her soul, was buoyant with the possibilities, with the twists and turns, with the ruminations of lineages and generations scorched in stone and rime. She could recall the days when his sire had been King, and though his reign had been quick (for the Engineer hadn’t felt the political pull), she presumed Rikyn’s would be long lasting, a testament to the olden days of strength, fortitude, and tenacity.
 
They arrived behind the angles of the crowd, fox and Songbird, weaving their hearty hellos and hallelujahs, promising her allegiance to one more master of their realm. “Congratulations,” she spoke to the youth upon her approach, bowing, proffering her regards to both King and Queen (a regal smile for Tiamat; the kind, gentle sea-girl who’d once only followed the call of the gulls, blossomed into a fine ruler). When her eyes settled back upon Rikyn, her grin broadened, compassionate and serene. “Your father would be proud.”

Lena the Songbird

love in the eyes