#liuyan.

the dusk commander rows them off in the rented rowboat, sending them out to the middle of the sea. while the water was uncharted territory for the fae, all water was the same in the sense that all seas were unpredictable. the fishing lure twists in his hand, squid legs twirling limply along with the rope. yìzé liked fishing. it was a simple pleasure in life, something he used to do as a kid. not so much anymore when he could sail the skies.

but - "if you can't beat them, join them. that's the saying right?" he glances over to the other fae, checking on their progress. "need help with your lure?"

when their goddess comes to her, although its offered much like a question, jia’s parents tell her that there’s no question in the serving. there is no choice. still, jia can’t help but think she’s done this all wrong. her little rebellions against the mainlanders despite her niceties, the juxtaposition of her waning beliefs in contrast to the superficiality she presents to them. but, the will of their goddess is undoubtably the will of dusk.

in her hours of doubt, in the aftermath of what they had done in the name of the mother, yan is the only person jia can turn to. because while they both of the act in the name of what’s best for the dusk court, there is no staunching the doubt that creeps into jia’s disecting mind. it’s in the moments where her disdain for the mainlanders is met with dusken distaste, when you can count the stars in the eyes of one of her dearest friends as she looks at a springtime fae, when one of them puts a mirror to her face and tells her to protest her circumstance. they would hate her if they knew.

"it just occurred to me,” jia says, sitting up from where she lays belly-down on the blanket. her gold sprayed book lays face down, spine cracked open. “does erinya like me?”

yìzé hopes the other fae is too nice to mention the stench radiating off of him - knowing that he reeks of fish and wet dog. NB: he's the dog in the situation. it's his fault too. he'd taken his twin out to the water, not realizing that the celebrations were beginning.

the commander would soon worm his way to the foretold spas beyond the market square, he simply had to work his way out first. he was simply charming for his own good. "they've made a wonderful effort at your likeness," the dusk fae says, looking over the artist's shoulder, inspecting the canvas with no true discernment in his analysis. "should i sit for one too?"

at the portrait painting.

approaching steps have her looking up, watching the fae wearily. "are you here for a dragon?"

dragons' door.

"commander liu, right?" in a world of mystics and magic, it all seemed irrelevant when it came to standing in front of a dragon. "i've heard the most fantastical stories of the your dragon."

lavinia knew herself well enough by this age that she knew the route to avoid discomfort but here she was, experiencing said discomfort. it seemed to be the only thing that could override the anxiety gnawing in the pit of her belly. watch. it feels so stupid to hyperfocus on this message but what else can she do but keep her eyes peeled in tired horror, watching. this was distraction at least.