rowan, graceless tarnished cryptid. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
runir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
finalflight2022-03-28 10:39 am
runir) wrote in finalflight2022-03-28 10:39 am
PSL; [ VEILED IN NIGHT ]
[He has slain demigods and gods alike. Legends felled under his blade, or torn asunder by his magics. He has suffered the burden of immortality to help usher in a new age, one of the cosmos and the brightest stars amongst the lonesome night. He may tilt the world’s axis with the weight of his accomplishments, having become more than what he once was. The children born of this age, and their children’s children, and generations beyond them, will spin his tales. He is tantamount to a new history itself.
And yet, next to her, he still feels so small.
She is a goddess by right of blood, newly unbound from her destiny to etch one in the stars anew. His own station was earned by wrath — for as well-intentioned his ambitions had always been, it was only through upheaval and violence that he managed to wrench his throne free of the shardbearers who’d keep their fragments of divine power clutched close. Rowan is forceable change; Ranni is the inevitability of opportunity, as vast as the night she veils across the Lands Between. Even her Empyrean corpse, a form long shed, felt ineffable to him. The ground she lay upon, unearthly.
Perhaps that is why, even now, he bends his knee to her, recumbent and head bowed, features shadowed by the hood he has kept up; in this case, it is a tactical choice, to hide his pinched brow and frown, unsatisfied and almost petulant.]
You needn’t leave now.
[Here, where the Erdtree once stood, lies only a plateau of night and a great, imminent moon. He is sure of her silhouette, softly outlined against silverly light, even if he does not cast his eyes up at her.]
Stay longer, Ranni. To do aught you couldn’t in the past. [When she was still bound by stars unmoving.] Before you leave me to a solitary throne.
[He has aided many, their ambitions small and large. But they have all died, or left, and that he should have to add her to that sorry list twists at his insides.]
no subject
Was it not my silver tongue that earned a place by your side?
[To convince her that he would be a loyal follower, even if under the not-so-hidden guise of locating her cursemark at Rogier's behest. Strange, how far both of them have come since then.
His features soften.]
Thank you, Ranni. I know you do little more than humor me, but I will make it worth your while.
[Here, his hand slips into his pocket, to pull out a familiar whistle. It pipes as clear as a bell, and in a rush blue, ghostly magic, Torrent appears beside them both. His friend paws at the starry ground with a hoof, flicking an ear.]
Come. [He swiftly mounts his steed, and holds out a hand to Ranni, beckoning. The mirror image of just moments ago, when she had reached out to him.] We go wherever you like. Torrent will ride undeterred with an honored guest on his back.
no subject
when he extends his hand, she moves to take it with one of hers - this form is cooler to the touch, but she can propel herself up with a touch of magic to sit behind him, briefly and gently touching Torrent on his flank. he has been no less a hero himself, and she must devise a proper thanks, for bearing up under it all as he has. like this...she feels a tender ease, emotions creeping from the chest where she wanted to lock them at present.
it will make it all the harder to go, in the end.]
Where is somewhere you cherish, Rowan? There is where I wish to go.
[to know more of you, she might as well have spoken aloud. because that is a wish she can allow herself right now - to simply travel, and ask questions again, though in a much larger form. surely in the breadth of these lands, there must be many places he cares for.]