tiamat

like the ocean kissed the sky—

The grin across the sea maiden’s lips deepens with the Cerndyr’s expression, her head lowering briefly as she looks to the stag and laughs gently, blowing away a loose petal that had fallen on her nose before she turns again to Rikyn. Whatever is happening between the two boys, she is clearly enjoying it. The stallion’s initial explanation causes her eyes to brighten, and she nods in wordless enthusiasm, always eager to learn herself. However, when he elaborates on the nature of the stone, Tiamat’s brow knits together in thought.

What a peculiar thing for a rock to do! How does it know what she wants? How does it make Rikyn follow its instruction? How long do the effects last? (She remembers then how Duir had repeatedly nudged her with the stone, and can’t help but smile amusedly to herself). Why does the stone do this, and how will it aid the stallion? So many questions! Then again, Helovia’s gods do tend to work in mysterious ways, especially when it comes to magical quests. “Oh, interesting!” The ocean mare acknowledges with a tilt of her head, her white eyes flickering again to the stone clasped between Duir’s teeth.

“Well,” she continues shortly, eyeing Rikyn with both humor and sincerity in her gaze. “I want you to be happy, of course. I have to admit, I’ve never seen you smile so...enthusiastically before,” another chime of giggles breathes past her lips, and she shifts her weight forward, leaning a step closer to the dark stallion. Fluttering her lashes against the sun, Tiamat looks up to him with a broad smile. “It suits you!” She winks, playful, even if the complement is every bit as true as the warmth in her heart.

Exhaling a whimsical sigh from her nostrils, the ocean mare glances again to the blossoming tree, and then to the ground before she begins to lower herself among the lush grasses. Resting her body along the cool earth, she rolls over onto her back, stretching comfortably. Glancing to the stallion, Tiamat beckons for him to join her.

Once Rikyan has—presumably—settled at her side, she looks over to him. “What magic is the Time God helping you with?” One of her dainty ears slants toward him out of curiosity, silently wondering how the stone’s strange ability could be connected to his magic—if it is at all. “I’ve never been on a quest before, but I’d like to, I think,” the words slip from her tongue in a verbal musing of thought, little more than a murmur as her attention drifts, following the gentle dance of the flowery boughs as they move in the breeze.


“Speech.”