In a mirror of blackness she watched how the frog slipped underneath the liquid, into a place her vigil eyes could not guard. And she thought, slippery like the frog – with his icy trembling and grip, the Frost King had already fled to the other side, too.

Pale shimmering thoughtful eyes had fallen stuck on the water’s surface. For that lonely, regrettable moment she was hypnotised by the darkness.

With all the things she could do, with all the things she was capable off – but with a heart incapable of caring too much for the things she was meant to love, there was nothing except the gods that had her in her grasp. She had devoted herself to a liberation of belief. Yet, unlike them, she was like the fog, free to twist and twirl in her mortal captivating swaying. (But what was her caress? What did it feel like; she questioned). She did not follow paths walked by the lost. She did not follow streams as old as time. In the end, all that she followed – tonight – was the dancing of pearls in the blurred sparkling of moonlight falling upon her alabaster head. For, with her Lord as her witness, perhaps tonight she was made to enlighten that darkness.

”You frighten me.”

Surprised by this totally random accusation she let out a single snort. Eyes, pulled wide open in shock, the air from her outburst rippling up the reflection of herself in the water. From Mauja’s perspective he might have only been able to notice her shoulders shaking, while Maren attempted to restrain the remainder of her giggles. For all the things his dully draped soul had brought into the world over his icy cold and quiet lips, these three words certainly were the most fifty shades of dramatic she had heard – perhaps ever, in her life. So, totally from her à propos, she turned her white, haloed head to the stallion again, foremost interested to see what face he had made while putting the words in his mouth. But as she crossed his stare, she remembered. She remembered that this wasn’t a play, this wasn’t a silly stupid unlucky joke to enjoy. He still stood there, unmoved – keeping the light of her halo captive in his eyes. And again she recalled the softness of his voice as a coldness started creeping over her skin. She swallowed her dried out laughter, which had quickly started rotting away in her mouth anyway.

Why?

The priestess felt the dust of the world, the quiet music of the forest vibrating in her ears and the late autumn winds stroking her cheeks. The figure in the mist, silent in his fright.

Why can’t you fix his own problems? He was King. He was powerful (right?), he was smart enough (right?), he was loved by others – right? He had no right to tell her he just was, he had no right to tell her how she apparently frightened him.

I am too selfish to help you.

But somehow she really – really wanted him to make some kind of unfortunate joke, one that would make a room full of people frown and fall quiet. She wanted that, like last time. All was better than this hopeless view. He made her feel this aching scrubbing in her chest again, reminding her of the chaos she had felt then, at that time and place – and how he must be feeling like that now. And she hated that connection, she hated knowing how fucked up and foul he was.

"I don't frighten you," the priestess confirmed in an amused whisper while still looking into his icy eyes, the ones she couldn’t decipher, not even now – but she hadn’t needed his eyes. "You frighten yourself." Then her head turned around, halo-light moving along with her, casting light on what was in shadows before as her hooves started wandering along the silvery pond's shore. She had seen them on her way, shimmering in their velvet, slippery coats. The berries hang in small little bushes close to the ground, draped in Maren's mist. "I once had a friend," she started in her outlandish hymn. "Who told me these berries were excellent for relaxing. You can recognize them by their circular leaves and asymmetrical veins," she explained. Then she cut off a branch with her teeth and took them in her mouth as she wandered back to Mauja. Attached to the stem berries shimmering blue as a songbird dangled happily along with the mare's movements. And, still having to talk through her teeth: "Here – take one, just to try it. I promise you it won't kill you." she hold the berries in front of the oh so troubled stallion. Perhaps to prove her point she managed with her flexible tongue to get one into her own mouth herself. Then she put down the branch with all the berries, chewed, then took another of the blue berries from the tuft. "By the way, I was only mocking you. Of course you are a king: The fearsome King of Fireflies," and she stretched out her wings like hands, casting longer shadows on the ground beneath her, to show him all the fireflies surrounding them with her exaggerating movements, dramatic voice draped in sudden enthusiasm – perhaps already slightly influenced by the bold blue beads of berries. "Don't you feel feel their wrath? I do." she smiled. " Just trust the diviner – this stuff really helps." Or something.




@[Mauja]

Maren

BY THE PRECEPTS OF HER PURITY