ofephemera:
𝐖𝐇𝐎 - @lucariche 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 - fourth week of the new moon → the coming of spring 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 - the globe
Bloodlines have always interested Ephemera, especially since she mothered none of her own while she reigned on Earth as a queen of her own making. It’s why she watches one of the Riche sons intently in an attempt to glean any similarities between the present and past– between Luca and his grandfather with whom Ephemera herself fought alongside in the war against the Heretics. She’s yet to find a mortal to fight alongside that had the heart and mind of the Riche ancestor; in truth, he was one of few to garner a nod of acknowledgement and subtle praise from the General of Angels–mortal or immortal alike–and she’s curious to see if the descendant can live up to her expectations.
Ephemera decides then to see for herself. She abandons her post near the outer edges of the Globe to join the Riche man. “Luca Riche,” the Virtue greets without regard for what the man was doing prior to her arrival; it matters not to Ephemera, who instead prepares herself for small-talk in which she has no true interest. No, Caelum’s strategist wants to know just how strongly the Riche bloodline courses through the mortal in front of her, wants to know just how much of his grandfather’s spirit resides in this golden boy’s frame.
“How lovely it is to see you. Are you enjoying the Coming of Spring?”
The world was so new to Luca’s eyes. Every person he met, he was meeting for the first time, even when he’d lived a life before this one. Even with those extra years, long ago, the life he’d lived thus far was merely a blink or two of angelic and demonic eyes. So many had traversed this ground before him, and many who did had walked upon it hundreds of years ago, even thousands, and still walked it today. Luca did not know how ancient this world was, but he could see the reflections of it in the eyes of the immortals, folding at the edges like the ancient scrolls he’d witnessed at the Temples. All this was to say that he could not see the things Ephemera saw when she looked upon him. He could not see the history that pulsed through his veins - he couldn’t even see the life yet to be unlocked, gathering dust at the back of his mind.
Luca smiles pleasantly when he sees the Virtue approaching him, placing down the wreath he had offered to hang in the Globe. “Ephemera, it is quite the honor,” he greeted. If he knew her ties to his ancestry, he might have briefly wondered if he seemed anything like his grandfather. He would have hoped he didn’t. He wished to turn the tides of the Riche name, not enforce the blood that dripped from the letters. “I am,” Luca agreed. “I do love the festivities around this season, no matter how delayed it may be.” There is no forgetting that it was not so long ago that Cador was laid to rest. “I hope the season is bringing you nothing but the holiest of harmonies. How are you? Is there anything I can do for you?”















