#davheira

Ivory light fell across the Crescent Grove, gleaming palaces rolled into the silver forests, from the parapet of her Outlook, Arvandor's splendor laid itself before them. Telperion's silver trunk and looming branches danced across the distant sky above them as Laurelin rose in the distant horizon with equal splendor. Paradise for the Seldarine was vast, limitless in some regards, but the people here had not been without anguish. Peace required sacrifice, it demanded death, Sehanine knew this better than most.

Raven hair that fell like a blanket of stars rested down the length of her shoulder. Placid and unmoving, like settled pitch or the sky itself; everything about the Goddess was still, it would have been easy to assume that her eyes would be cold but they were anything but. Warm ambers that fixed with unnerving certainty, they were the flickering candles of lanterns guiding travelers through the dark of the night. A goddess of night and dreams but also death. When Sehanine had died, the moon hid itself away so that it did not have to watch.

"Well," Sehanine prompted, "you are a bard are you not? Sing: tell me a story that I have not yet heard. Tell me your story." She canted her head delicately, "You came here for allies, convince me." A stone basin stood between them as she sat on a throne of woven moonlight, the basin itself was filled with placid waters and from all angles a full lunar moon was clearly visible despite there being none above them. She was its source and its goddess and when the lycans of Davheira's realm howled in anguish it was her heart that they pulled upon.

The Senate Marshal had nearly died during Halloween. Would’ve been a pity, maybe, but Lev hadn’t seen him in a long, long time. After all – time in the mortal realm moved so slow that the fey had barely remembered what it was like back in the faerie realm. He remembered the pretty colors, the false narratives that Titania spoke about. The way that the faerie courts tried to maintain some form of home, of love – but it was all a lie. He watched as the fey sang his songs, enchanted a boring mortal crowd, and went on his way. They’d been friends, once. Before even Davhy had sided against him. Before they’d all sided against him. “I thought you’d have thought up something new by now. Same old string, different day?”