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Apr. 27th, 2015 07:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
halgitamilf posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kickitoverWho: Kratos Aurion & Svala
What: He finally made it.
Universe/CR: Luceti
An interloper, they'd said. The southern guard patrol had happened across a man collapsed at the borders. A medic had examined him and found nothing; nothing, including no lunaglyph. Even without the power of the moon the marks are still there, and there is still so much anger and resentment toward those without the moon's blessing. She did what she could to make sure that the Unblessed were treated properly, but she couldn't force hearts to change. All she could do was place protective laws and lead by example.
Magic, it seems, was not an art given to man by the moon. The earth held its own mysterious powers, and Svala was in tune with its strength and upon waking just six short months ago, with the memories of that place and wondering if it had all been a dream, had discovered how to weave magic in the way the Unblessed had (the way Lucetians had). They were quickly becoming consultants for the most powerful of families. Still, in Burgess there is still a powerful stigma against Unblessed, to the point of violence. Ludicrous. Edward hates it and punishes perpetrators severely.
But the Unblessed man at the border, he's hers to sort out. She'll give him a home. Bring him to me when he wakes, she'd told her guard. They would.
And now she waits. She attends her audiences with aggrieved nobles and citizens, listens as patiently as ever, somehow manages to swallow feelings that are so much more powerful than before and waits all with an itch of intuition beneath the surface of her skin that says this is not normal, this is not usual. Something will come of this.
"Your Majesty." The doors open.
What: He finally made it.
Universe/CR: Luceti
An interloper, they'd said. The southern guard patrol had happened across a man collapsed at the borders. A medic had examined him and found nothing; nothing, including no lunaglyph. Even without the power of the moon the marks are still there, and there is still so much anger and resentment toward those without the moon's blessing. She did what she could to make sure that the Unblessed were treated properly, but she couldn't force hearts to change. All she could do was place protective laws and lead by example.
Magic, it seems, was not an art given to man by the moon. The earth held its own mysterious powers, and Svala was in tune with its strength and upon waking just six short months ago, with the memories of that place and wondering if it had all been a dream, had discovered how to weave magic in the way the Unblessed had (the way Lucetians had). They were quickly becoming consultants for the most powerful of families. Still, in Burgess there is still a powerful stigma against Unblessed, to the point of violence. Ludicrous. Edward hates it and punishes perpetrators severely.
But the Unblessed man at the border, he's hers to sort out. She'll give him a home. Bring him to me when he wakes, she'd told her guard. They would.
And now she waits. She attends her audiences with aggrieved nobles and citizens, listens as patiently as ever, somehow manages to swallow feelings that are so much more powerful than before and waits all with an itch of intuition beneath the surface of her skin that says this is not normal, this is not usual. Something will come of this.
"Your Majesty." The doors open.
