10-30-2018, 01:51 AM
Valeriya had the sense of descending into smoke trapped by a cavern. The air wasn’t all that heavy, but it was thick with scents curling her nostrils with pleasantries of the refined. Queen though she was, Valeriya was overcome with the jagged edges of a cave spike surrounded by smooth water pebbles. Not often was she touched with a twinge of jealousy for the souls of the Above, as she truly believed the Khylsty were saved by Father Rasputin’s secreting them Below. But a bony hand gripped her heart when she beheld Rowan and her companions. There was little time to think on the surprising emotion before the cards began to dance.
Valeriya was enraptured by their movements. Twirling so fast her eyes could hardly track them. When they came to a halt, three hovered. Vale ripped their pictures apart with her eyes like an Oni shredded its meat at a meal. Odd things were spoken about herself and Armande. A divination, she realized. Rowan was an oracle of old, proclaiming that which seeming random signs wanted to reveal. A toothy smile pulled at the corners of her lips. When Vale swept herself forward, it was to offer a hand like Rowan might kiss her knuckles. She didn’t expect it however, having learned enough habits of the Above to understand her majesty was not known by all. Not yet, anyway.
“I am Valeriya, the Eye of the Khylsty,” her speech was slow, the accent antique, title partnered to Rowan's own divine claim. Some of the things Rowan spoke were not completely comprehended, but Vale followed well enough to grasp the picture. She did not peel her eyes from the fascinating woman as she folded herself into a seat like it was her throne for the day. “More of your food and your drink.” She tempered the demand with a smoky smile. “And to learn more of the land of your home. What do you call it?” Finally, she swept her emerald gaze to the others in Rowan’s circle as though they all hailed from afar.
The Eye beheld greenery then, but not the plush forest of Armande's destiny. This was something thick and tangled, choking and dangerous. Water stirred and jaws snapped, bugs crawled and vines swang. Skeletons floated on gray waters. Window coverings flapping on hot winds. A dark-skinned people strolled dusty streets. A child girl chasing a boy; one laughing, the other squealing.
She blinked through the vision, hungry for a name to put with the place. For now, Rowan's interpretation of Valeriya's own character was unacknowledged.
Valeriya was enraptured by their movements. Twirling so fast her eyes could hardly track them. When they came to a halt, three hovered. Vale ripped their pictures apart with her eyes like an Oni shredded its meat at a meal. Odd things were spoken about herself and Armande. A divination, she realized. Rowan was an oracle of old, proclaiming that which seeming random signs wanted to reveal. A toothy smile pulled at the corners of her lips. When Vale swept herself forward, it was to offer a hand like Rowan might kiss her knuckles. She didn’t expect it however, having learned enough habits of the Above to understand her majesty was not known by all. Not yet, anyway.
“I am Valeriya, the Eye of the Khylsty,” her speech was slow, the accent antique, title partnered to Rowan's own divine claim. Some of the things Rowan spoke were not completely comprehended, but Vale followed well enough to grasp the picture. She did not peel her eyes from the fascinating woman as she folded herself into a seat like it was her throne for the day. “More of your food and your drink.” She tempered the demand with a smoky smile. “And to learn more of the land of your home. What do you call it?” Finally, she swept her emerald gaze to the others in Rowan’s circle as though they all hailed from afar.
The Eye beheld greenery then, but not the plush forest of Armande's destiny. This was something thick and tangled, choking and dangerous. Water stirred and jaws snapped, bugs crawled and vines swang. Skeletons floated on gray waters. Window coverings flapping on hot winds. A dark-skinned people strolled dusty streets. A child girl chasing a boy; one laughing, the other squealing.
She blinked through the vision, hungry for a name to put with the place. For now, Rowan's interpretation of Valeriya's own character was unacknowledged.
The Eye of the Khylsty