#springlia

where? canal cakes

"I am still baffled that I was chosen amidst all high elves," Davheira admits idly as he strums his lute from the corner of his office as he eyes Lia from across the Rome. Perhaps it's their continued patience with humanity, that which has them selected, but he is not quite sure that sounds right. Not when this is a position to both monitor the mortal realm and ensure that things remain benefiting them. Regardless, he won't be openly questioning the Chancellors choices. Not when those choices give him more authority to fulfill his vows to Sehanine. "Are you going to keep working at Canal Cakes?"

He is attempting to control the input of his magic, the already cold air of the peak of the Winter Mountain's turning positively frosty as he fails once more. A groan of frustration leaves his lips as he watches the nearest tree crack now that it has fully frozen to the core. In a fit of petulant annoyance, he manifests another dagger of ice and throws it at the tree, grunting when the snow on it's branches fall upon him. One of the advantages of everything, is that his cold tolerance has shot up. Sadly, that doesn't do anything to improve the cold mushy feeling of snow underneath his clothes. Sighing once more in frustration, he falls back into the ground and leans against a nearby tree, when a presence makes itself known to his senses. Blinking rapidly, he looks up and towards the fresh breath of spring on a mountain made of snow.

"I thought that with the growing coldness, most spring fey would prefer the warmer courts."

One step after the other, the sound resonating all around her as she makes her way through the Memorial Pathway with quiet reflection. The month of planning had been worth it, the hours spent learning from the elders and the daimona leaving their mark on her psyche and her confidence. Robin feels more like herself than she has ever felt, settled into her skin now that there is no hesitation with her step. It's a pleasant yet odd feeling, and she had taken to the pathway to meditate upon it. Despite it all, she did not expect to see the spring fey on her path. Their situation had driven Robin to learn the names and faces of all the survivors, so she knows the name of the fey before her. A former exile, now resworn to the courts.

"If I recall correctly, you were invited to the solstice," she muses as she steps closer to settle at her side. "Did we have the pleasure of hosting you?"

✿*° ‘° ･

For all his grandeur, the structures at court never did agree with Zahrya. From unending stretches of green to looming towers, the abrupt transition he had to make as a child shaped his tastes. Within the forest, his forest, he no longer needed to conform and the naturalistic beauty of the home Alastor built for him would be the seat of power for the Spring Chancellor for generations. Through the beating heart of the Blood Orchard, the fog provides safe passage to Zahrya’s abode for those he chooses to see. A hidden garden more splendid than the one his spring’s section of the forest boasts awaits, and Lia’s response to his summons clearly pleases him from the way sunshine streams onto the pond where he floats. Zahrya smiles, opening lily pads and sending butterflies fluttering through the air. “Sweet Lia, I’m glad you’ve come to see me before I begin pouring my magic into my children. It will be soon, before the dawn fades and the blistering sun rises. Though I think for the first time ever, summer’s heat won’t be as devastating to me,” he chuckles looking at her fondly. “The experience could be similar for you if you give yourself to the forest more. Those of us favored by spring should have the easiest time doing so.”

where? the funhouse of hell

notes: bet zoey starts criticizing the demonic fashion senses? no bet