#silverlandings

[glitterlikegold]

By John Russo for 20th Century Fox - 2016

[ryujinseaborn]

starter for OPEN

where: lorien'dal, silverlands

when: current timeline basically

note: :lifesupport:, limit to the first 3 characters if there is interest :3

With a heavy heart Ryu had turned from the Leviathan, it was proposed as something temporary, a journey instated not long after he'd had Kallias ascend to Quartermaster as Ryu stared his own mortality down. Turning to Avalon wouldn't offer him the chance at sparing his soul, but it'd buy more time, dozens of years before Ryu would have to greet the Dark One in the great beyond. A soul promised, but even Ryu could bend the rules a bit on such tenebrous contract, no?

He'd taken a small boat and little belongings; the faimen was keen to slip through most of Lysara unnoticed, but a pirate, even one dressed down was hard to miss and many raised a brow as he strode through the silver city. Not all could help him here, many silver elvhen who'd never truly known the Light, but Ryu out of his element here on land, attempted his best shot.

"I'm looking for a guide," Ryu could be foolish enough to trek through the Feywilds himself, but he figured he'd never find the moongate without help, and so the pirate Captain attempted to barter.

[aegeanxcalla]

who?: @freydis-freydat where?: library of lórien'dal when?: well after aventia fell when people are getting their lives back together

There was no shame in failing to grasp a concept on an initial try, the shame was in failing to try at all. The pursuit of knowledge was brave in and of itself, so Calla wasn't too hard on herself. After all, there was limited empirical evidence pertaining to what components even made up a soul. Soulbinding itself was based on feeling and ritual, aspects of the world that couldn't easily be studied in a textbook. Calla wanted to learn precisely because the subject was outside of her realm of expertise, and she would've accepted she'd have to return to reread some texts if not for another sharing what they learned.   "I think … I get it now. It goes beyond simply uniting two souls, soulbinding is about tying the souls together in a way that transforms them. Still separate souls, but tied in a way that both changes them and creates something new. The unity they share would give the elvhen involved a new sense of self and love that I imagine would transform everything down to the fundamental way they view the world," Calla marveled, her eyes sparkling at Freydis. The other had no obligation to share, and yet the benevolent way she doled out new knowledge endeared the Scholar of Juno to her. "I know that it isn't what soulbinding is intended to be exclusively, but it's an incredibly romantic type of expression, don't you think?"

[aurelientrader]

starter for @nylathriasoulseer.

where: somewhere in the silverlands

when: current timeline

note: auntie <3

Auri hadn't second glanced at the chance to leave Avalon behind; in hindsight, perhaps he should have taken another thought on abandoning such privilege on a whim, but it'd been nearly five decades since and he'd learned to live with what was. Silver, young, burdened by the remembrance of what the Light once felt like and the recollection of the wild terrain within; Auri knew scant about the family he had. Extensive, impossible to chart, his father had produced many heirs to a Sinarian fortune that none could touch; the silver elvhen knew he could never rely on him for aid after he'd lost his own pile of gold. "Nyla, right?" From his mother's side, a familiar face within the crowd of the Silverlands and someone he'd been following since the moment he'd heard the seer had set up shop with spell scrolls. It spoke of stability, it lent to the idea that Nyla was here to stay for the time being, so the elvhen turned failed merchant stepped forward in hopes she'd recall the youthful elvhen he once was.

[awhirr]

Silverland feat. Daisy Dance - Ain't No Turning Back

[ycungmagick]

@sapphosheiir asked: “Don’t worry about it. This happens sometimes.” Blood will be shed.

"That doesn't make it any less worrying, your highness. Please hold still..."

Ophelia finishes bandaging Sapphire's wounds, and cleaning off the blood. The Prince could certainly hold their own against horrid men looking to rob her, but... the wounds always last... she would know.

"There. I have some soup cooking inside. It'll help your wounds heal..."

[phyrofwild]

Zephyr knew the witch in front of him was well aware of his connections to Druidism, but his true nature as a Genasi was a secret hidden from the world that few would really know about, so the other's words were to be expected. "A Druid can never lie..." He spoke with a theatrical short bow and the scoff that followed. A truth he found so easily manipulatable since people seemed to trust them so easily due to that belief they didn't even have to lie about anything, they just had to omit the truth from their words and perform their ever-so-righteous part on that play. "Their beliefs blind them from what really matters. They hide behind their pretty words and virtues and only see things as black and white, never all the shades of gray... Hypocrites." He said the last part under a sigh, taking a long sip that finished his cup.

The merchant stopped for a second and decided to look beyond his own personal experience, as it did not matter. "I think I've just drank too much." He laughed it off. "It doesn't even really matter... The Druids may be assholes, but they can be helpful to the right people." If that aligned or did not interfere with their notion of balance and equilibrium, that was. So far as the other's wishes were fair, he could find answers in their Ancient Stones. The Genasi stood up from his chair. "I think we'll see how that goes... Good luck, young friend." He chuckled, leaving a few coins to pay the bill on the table and left.

The homesickness he wrestled with wasn't easily placated, but neither was Alrik the type to wallow about his misfortune. He'd been through worse and survived far more terrible things than displacement. Alrik would always make due, he was a survivor and he'd endure Lysara's backwards customs as well.

"The only faith I place is in myself." Alessia's betrayal still sat on his shoulders, there had been a time when he thought it would be the two of them against the world. It was only in retrospect that Alrik realized how childish it was, their paths diverged and from here on he would walk his alone. Phyr's candor surprised him though, "I didn't expect to hear that from one of their own." Alrik had eyes, insight, and history with the merchant beside him. That they were both hiding in plain sight in Yggdrasildal wasn't lost on him. Alrik, who'd never met a witch he trusted, then asked, "What made you so jaded?"

[phantom-air-pirate]

Tag dump: Relationships

[glitterlikegold]

By Dana Scruggs for The Hollywood Reporter - 2019

[ryujinseaborn]

starter for @uegg.

where: silverlands, outside the city

when: current timeline

note: i committed a yappening, sorry

Choosing not to utilize the various waygates within Lysara, Ryu had traveled by foot from the isles to the lush expanse of the Queenslands. It'd only warrant a few extra days to bulk up his trip, but the pirate felt it necessary; Ryu understood it would surely do little to truly equip him to face the elements of the wilds, but if the sea had once protected him, the pirate tried to have faith land would not make him buckle either. He'd set off again once the sun had risen, a cold had swept through Lysara, milder than former years, but enough for the captain to diverge slightly, towards a small village on the outer depths of the silver city. He didn't wish to get too comfortable within Lorien'dal, deep within the isolated lands he'd have better advantage to secrecy of such journey. The closer he stepped towards the wilds, the more his heart beat nervously within his chest; sailing was innate to Ryu, but the elvhen pieces of his soul were still uncharted.

Drifting through the town, Ryu frowned as not a soul seemed to venture; no signs of life and it only, mistakenly, allowed Ryu to venture deeper instead of avoiding the ordeal entirely. Through a dense line of trees, the faimen heard the rising symphony of a sermon, haunting, probed with fear, and led by one man in particular who stood at the helm of such horde, seemingly directing their verse.

Dantalion. His voice, loud and unnerved, manically inspired rose over the throng of voices that now quieted, listening intently as the devil dressed in his inquisitor's regalia stalked the front of such horde. Inevitably, the group began to break off as Dantalion finished; fear was this fragrant snake that slunk between the rows of people, if those of this brood were not inspired by Vanguard rites, it was best they pretend to placate the devil that stood before them. Not that they knew the full truth of what commanded them.

As many more diluted from this... morning mass, Ryu had to be combative, to pull on the proverbial leash the devil had slipped so easily around his neck despite the sight of Dantalion in such holy garb sending a shudder down Ryu's spine. "Very persuasive, borderline demanding," He's attempting to breeze past the fact he's deep within land but Ryu is aware that he's certainly set himself up for Dantalion to pluck apart each reason or excuse as to why Ryu has ventured so far inland. Ryu is somewhat curious but the faimen had always been too daring, reckless to a fault that had gotten him tethered to this devil poised as a holy crusader in the first place.

[casimirnoctis]

Where Nikandros spoke, Casimir had grown fond to listen; the inquisitor was well traveled even if he'd tethered himself to the extremes of religion. Casimir was certain nothing could ever allow himself to revert back to the idea of any extremist cause, but each had their nuance, their niche, that attracted others and he'd be foolish to believe that Nikandros was not a person with one foot in and one foot out at all times.

"Hubris is often the defeat of many," even after Casimir had grappled with the fears of his mother's labyrinth and found himself within domains of the Abyss, the dhampir had remained relatively humble; he'd spoken little of it to anyone. Casimir's head canted gently to the side though he'd known better not to put anything past Nikandros considering how easily he'd taken the dhampir at face value prior. A chilled hand went to the beacon of demonic power on his chest, the home for each subjugated demon and for Basarab.

"I challenged fear, turned it into something else," even commanded by his mother's Voice, Casimir had not kneeled to her demands and with such strength, he'd discovered something else entirely. "The Abyss, what do you know of it?" His hand fell from his chest, though it did not burn bright beside his friend, Casimir was certain he could feel it ache within his chest.

Absent any exhaustive effort, Nikandros offered in kind, "Somehow I've managed to keep time." He'd admit to no one that he'd revisited their conversation a few times over in his mind - that when it came to Aventia he'd done his part to do more than simply glance around. Nikandros had not expected the dhampir to make an appearance but that hadn't stopped him from checking, just to be sure.

"Well, it stands to reason: the Aetherians have no defense against the Blight and all the arrogance to believe themselves untouchable." The barrier had been drawn back some months after the magisters had locked themselves in with the darkspawn. In a perfect world, the whole would-be nation would be eating itself right now, but their continued meddling and influence in the feywilds meant that the world remained imperfect. "Aventia fell and now the darkspawn have a foothold here."

The question of whether or not Casimir thought his mother was allied to the darkspawn would wait, instead there was something else that piqued his notice. "Something's different," Nikandros commented, "what changed while you were there?"

[chroniclerelris]

Who: @abelasx

Where Silverlands

The Elvhen nobles had been ordered back to Avalon from Aventia. Elris could have gone with them, fight but safe guarding history was more important and when it was time to choose Elris could have never predicted the claims of the threat was true.

But now, he believed and all he could do was capture the events from those returning home. He had decided to meet them in the silverlands, maybe he could beat the degradation of memory. Book in hand and quill at the ready Elris approached Abelas and his feathery companion Icarus “Well hello my feathered friend, don’t you look splendid, I bought you a treat from home… Abelas” Elris made sure Icarus got his treat but with a hard gaze he stared at Abelas. “ I'm here to record what happened. I need you to remember with clarity and focus. Do you think you can stay focused for me?”

[alucardrakul]

@etienneulven location: Silverlands notes: i tried really hard to think of one where he'd be shirtless, but I couldn't, so you get plaid in the woods to compensate.

Beneath the Silverlands was an ore considered precious to the elvhen, orichalcum was the make of so many of their weapons and armaments, but more interesting was the impact it had on the natural world. Duly named, the trees of this realm held a distinct, silvery hue- the canopy glistened with the light from the waning sun. It case gold through the leaves that looked as though it had set each blade on fire.

Sinewy bark in deep lines held veins of the same make, though it ran deeper than the outer layer looked almost gray. Nestled within this enchanted forest, Caer Glas Keep had been reopened to the Legion of the Dead as a bastion against the blight. Tales of what had occurred at Nornwatch Tower and Isengrim's Embrace had spread, but to most, they remained the harrowing tale of a far-off problem.

In the evening air Alucard wandered, uncharacteristically on foot, he marched through the tree line and surveyed the land for any signs of corruption. According to reports from the locals, the princes of Avalon and Lysara had sealed the tunnels below Caer Glas Keep when they discovered darkspawn below... But as they'd come to know, tunnels like those were often deep, and expansive.

As he wandered, as did Alucard's mind - this walk less official and more warranted as now and then he felt... Absent. Pulled in a variety of directions; there was still no word from Ankhuria, and now, so close to his father, he could feel Vlad through their connection more prominently than ever.

Stopping at a river, the scent of the water across the rocks, the moisture in the air, the sound of the distant waterfall- Alucard took them in and tried to focus on something other than what he was missing. Through it all he heard something familiar, the scent followed. First the steady but feathery pulse of the boy from the Wastelands, next came the smell of pears.

Alucard didn't look, not at first, he waited a beat as his usual dramatics gave way to the breeze off the river that tussled his hair. He spoke into the ozone as Alucard's red eyes gazed at a reflection of the clothes he wore and nothing more.

"Dhampirs never see their own face," Alucard admitted, "I never knew I had my father's eyes- that I looked so much like him-" except in height, "until he commissioned a portrait of me." When the dhampir turned around, he fixed his red eyes upon Etienne. "What do you see?"

[r0bita]

Princess Knight headcanons, speculations, and observations, because I have nothing else to do right now. This post got longer than intended.

Much... much longer...

Kingdoms and regions.

Even though both Goldland and Silverland are fictional, they may possibly be the fantasy counterparts to real European medieval/renaissance era kingdoms. Both England and Italy are mentioned in the manga as seperate locations, so it's safe to say that neither Goldland nor Silverland are situated in either of those countries.

A lot of French influences are found in Takarazuka revue and Takarazuka also inspired Princess Knight, among many other stories and characters written by Osamu Tezuka. By that logic, it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume that the main character's homeland, Silverland, is probably based on France. Aditionally, the French pronunciation of Sapphire is Saphir, a masculine word/name in the language. The word "sapphire" in general is a masculine word in romance languages. With that context in mind, it makes Sapphire's gender/naming less suspicious both in reality and in-universe.

Goldland is possibly based on Germany or even the Holy Roman Empire. Additionally, Franz and Heinrich are both german names. Franz, is the German version for "Francis", meaning freeman, frank, or Frenchman (interesting...). Heinrich is the German version of Henry, meaning home ruler or enclosed ruler (very interesting...).

Despite being from an another kingdom (exiled from birth?), Capt. Blood was raised most of his life in Italy (I keep thinking Sicily. If Goldland is the HRE then maybe??? Italian states, the papacy, and the HRE were not always on good terms throughout history. I shouldn’t over think this part too much...). Not surprisingly, he would be fluent in regional Italian, as well as multiple languages and dialects due to his upbringing by nobility and as a sea voyager. Italian varients of Heinrich/Henry would be Arrigo, Enrico, or Enzo, so those could probably be the names he grew up with. As a pirate starting off from the Italian coast, would he call himself Capitano Sangue or Sanguigno?

Hecate's family lives in Mt. Resin (no real mountain by that name seems to exist, as far as a quick internet search can show). It's possibly located within or near the alps, making the location close enough to both kingdoms possible real word locations. I also get a Spanish/Iberian vibe from Hecate and Mephisto and Madame Hell, like characters from a Francisco Goya painting.

I'm surprised there isn't a Bronzeland (unless it was mentioned in the old Ribbon Knight/Princess Knight anime and I completely missed that?)

However, I definitely remember the anime bringing up three sacred treasures in the form of Gold, Silver, and Bronze orbs/bells by the finale. Maybe there were hints to a third kingdom that never got fully addressed?

Characters Observations and Headcanons

Plastic's retains some of Sapphire's experiences on account of the heart switch situation. Maybe even some emotional responses... *cough* and her romantic interests *cough. Even though he proves to be very competent and more mature than he seems, he often worries that he still doesn't have a lot to show for in spite of EVERYBODY agreeing he's a very dependable and trustworthy person.

I'm pretty sure Hecate is the type to break the fourth wall if she wanted. She'd be the type to reference famous actors and popular movies in public. She could totally predict the future, and only choose to use that power for silly reasons.

Incidentally, both Plastic and Hecate are both on the same boat when it comes to their parents and circumstances. Both Plastic and Hecate's parents insist that what they do is for their children, even when their methods are clearly wrong and both Plastic and Hectare are insistent that not only are their parents actions unnecessary, but that it's more for their selfish wants than for their children's needs. Also the coincidence that they were both born/created without "hearts" is an interesting topic.

Franz and Sapphire are both characters that, because to their upbringing, have trouble figuring themselves out and fully trusting others. They are confident in their abilities, but not so much in believing they are worthy of them because of the high standards they must uphold. Thankfully, they are both sword maniacs and absolute dorks around each other, and in general. They'll be fine.

Sapphire functions by giving herself comands. "If I must be a boy, I will be a boy." "If I must be a girl, I will be a girl" "If I must be strong, I will be strong", etc. This is pretty effective up until something disrupts Sapphire's concentration or is simply to overwhelming for her to handle alone. Once something doesn't go as planned, she needs to regain her composure and that often means switching off from whatever she's focused on. This can be frustrating for her, because switching off leads to her getting distracted and it makes her feel vulnerable. This leads to Sapphire often being very defensive and nervous when allowing others, especially strangers, close to her and allowing them to help her.

Franz heavily values honesty, openess, and reassurance, which is both a blessing and a curse for him. He's too dependent on taking other people's words to heart and does not handle mockery and dishonesty very well. This may also be why he is incredibly curious (to the point of being obsessed and nosy at times) and isn't shy about admitting when he doesn't know everything. However, he also has a tendency to be self-deprecating at times which comes in conflict with his need to look competent. He won't allow people to call him a fool, but that doesn't stop it from calling himself a fool often.

I am frankly under the belief that Franz is nearsighted, has a habit of staring off, and prone to laughing fits when he gets surprised, nervous, and even upset at times, much to his uncle's frustration and constant training in etiquette (that last one may very well be true based on his responses to sudden information in the manga).

I'd also like to believe that before deciding to become a pirate, Blood was probably set to possibly become a surgeon, or more likely a physician, either arranged by his adoptive parents or possibly by himself. This is just a personal hc I have due to Capt. Blood's original novel and movie counterpart, Dr. Peter Blood, who started out as a surgeon before he took to piracy.

Madame Hell and Satan. Worst couple.

Madame Hell and Mephisto. Power couple.

Satan could care less about his kids. Mephisto would spoil them and spoil them more. Hell is the actually the more responsible one when it comes to keeping an eye on Hecate, even if she can barely keep up with her daughter.

Oolong and Friebe, coolest sibling duo. It's not a headcanon, it's a fact. (Franz and Blood wishes... No, seriously. Franz does wish they were that in-sync, but life isn't fair and neither is his uncle...)

Speaking of Franz's uncle, Duke Chanell. It's not outright stated, but it is implied that he is his maternal uncle, stating that he raised him after his mother died. If Blood is the illegitimate child of the previous king of Goldland, this may add more to why he has a strong dislike towards Heinrich, who was probably a baby when he sent him away. Franz's uncle is depicted as harsh and greedy. But from a bigger picture, it does make sense why he would go towards extreme lengths for his nephew, possibly the only child left by his sibling, the queen. Even though he is the one ruling the country at the moment, he clearly prefers that Franz to be the one to succeed him then giving it to the elder brother, and is deeply upset about Franz pursuing The Flax-haired girl ,Sapphire, and getting forcibly engaged to Hecate.

[fyrenxsolon]

"You escaped with me, you know?" Barked in an equally cantankerous measure, Fyren looked sourly upon the younger dragon who likely did not even know what it felt like to spread their wings nor fly. "But, by all means, if you wish to go back to where you've come from, make your life easy at the misery of me and your kind, then so be it, Talisa, leave this place and let them find you." Scowling and cruel like any elder sibling would sound, Fyren knew what to say where it could feel like a critical affliction, a lethal blow instead of a slightly rude remark. "I'm certain, that even through their long breadth of failures," paraphrasing, of course, but their dragon experiments escaping was a big one, "-that they'd be quick enough to know that you left on your own volition, and I can certainly guess that your precious Archon would not be pleased even if you came crawling back with regrets."

For an elder dragon, one who grew up around Dreamers of Falon'din before being snatched away from their home, Fyren was equally as capricious and ill-tempered as the Steel. "As much as you think you're stuck here, you have the will power to go anywhere you please. Have you ever pondered that maybe you've stuck yourself in this box?" He vied to protect her, and sure, it was easiest to do so when she remained in one place, but Fyren had to have hope that she was as smart as her wit, and he'd the wisdom to know that Talisa could not manage in this world less she wandered it herself from time to time.

Wounded anger flashed on Talisa, where his was marred with pride, hers was born from an insolent fear and this was where the pink dragon now faltered, frowning. He hated when he had to be the bigger person. "Forget the shell," quieter now, not technically defeated in spirits, but defeated in the sense that two dragons could likely viciously badger one another for hours and not make even a crumb of progress on the matter. "I have a contract soon, something I think you can help me on." Begrudgingly, Fyren offered this tidbit, though hopeful eyes peered back at the younger dragon that proved infinitely frustrating. Still, they'd not turn their back on her anytime soon for he knew if Aetheron were to get her back in their clutches.... - Fyren shivered at the thought. She was once happily integrated in their world, and he'd cruelly stripped it away, but he couldn't imagine a dragon never knowing the truth of their capabilities, locked away in a body that could never produce their fullest potential.

Quieter again, their fingers pinching the bridge of their nose, "I want to complete the contract, ensure we've enough coin to get us on our way." There's a hesitance to tell Talisa the truth but it's not like it'd been any secret of his true plans. The world he'd talked about had been when the Elvhen were the true crux of it, dreamers who were at the helm of innovation and those who led mortals through paths of guidance. His approach to the world had been painted with rose-colored glasses, the pink dragon talked of a warless land but that was because deep within his home of Falon'din, he'd found himself sequestered in cavernous reaches, only slipping forth on occasion to dream himself. Temples for the pantheon of Elvhen, the veil a secondary home; now Fyren was scared to dream and much like Talisa fear consumed him even if the pink dragon refused to admit as such.

"Once the contract is complete, with your help if you'd be so kind," he couldn't help the sarcasm on his tongue, but Fyren would need a hand to ensure the contract was enacted. "-we can go to the moongate. When once I lived in Avalon, it was not as closed off to the world as it is now. I worry we may not be able to pass, but on your insistence, we can make the journey." A seriousness overtook Fyren, the pink dragon's face laced with a grave concern, "The feywilds are not for the weak of mind, I just want to be sure you're ready."

“I occupy my time and my gaze with the only comforts I have here,” Talisa argued back stiffly. Fyren knew this world before their descent from Aetheron, but Talisa never had. Whatever fondness he had for it, she felt, was wrapped in nothing more than lionized memories and nostalgia. There was no one and nothing left to greet him, to sound the trumpets at his return, and the age of the dragons he had spoken to her of was either a distant memory or something Fyren had fabricated entirely. Regardless, she felt she would never forgive him for plucking her off one pedestal and falsely promising her another one. “And you have failed to redirect my gaze to any redeeming quality of this realm,” she criticized him further. But in truth, she believed he had failed to do so because there were none. Her tight fists shook at her sides as she lashed out from him across the table, her words lodged at him in Elvhen as if to prove she had not lost her command over the language: “And what of your tenets for me?” It was unclear if her centering of herself above all else in the universe was the result of her draconic vanity or her upbringing. 

There was nowhere to go that was better than here and there was nowhere to go that was worse, of this much Talisa was certain. She resented the grating sound of Fyren’s vocalized impatience with her, and she was sure she wore on him, too. “I don’t even know–” But he had beaten her to it, naming off the various regions of the land and the color in her cheeks rose as her eyes turned to ice and her entire body tensed. She had been to none of these places except a smattering of cities and townships across the Silverlands maps. As much as this world disgusted her, it frightened her, pushing her into the smallest corner of their shared cabin with a meager radius of safety around it. Fyren knew this, and it seemed he intended to make her suffer for it. 

His every word was salt in the wound and insult to injury. Talisa was furious with him even though in a calmer state it would take little to convince her to admit that just often she treated Fyren with equal measure of insolence, ingratitude, and waspishness. The both of them were trying, and despite her explosions of ill temper and insistence of being cantankerous she knew she would not make it far without Fyren’s guidance or protection. Even so, her words came up like bile she could not force back down and her tantrums won out over her good graces time and time again. Her fits were often more numerous than the moments of kinship or tenderness shared between them, but Fyren hadn’t given up on her. Yet. But increasingly, Talisa wondered how much slack was left before the elder dragon found themselves at the end of their rope with her. When he, or any other factor, drove her to such fits of rage her emotional state eclipsed this worry and all other lines of logic and good sense. Later, after the storm or sometimes simply in the momentary calm of the eye of one, she would wonder if these were merely growing pains or if this was simply who she was. 

“I’m so glad my misery brings you such amusement,” Talisa sniffed, wounded and angry in the shadow of Fyren’s simpering face. Now, she vowed to herself, she would never reveal the source of her connection to the shell. If the dark-haired thief walked in the door and handed it back to her this very instant Talisa was certain she would take it and smash it to bits in front of Fyren only for the sake of hurting him. “I never asked to go after it, I just said I wanted that one, not a replacement!” she roared back at him. If her instinct was not to flip the table she had just cleared she might be grateful for its presence between them.  “I don’t hate it here,” she clarified, stamping her foot on the sagging cabin floor before throwing her arms in the air like some bird about to take flight. “I hate it here.” The whole of Taravell. “So I implore you, tell me what I’ve been waiting for all this time–what great haven have you found on this wretched, miserable rock? And when will we go?” She was half leaned across the crooked table, as close to Fyren's face as their current positioning would allow though she posed little threat to the pink dragon aside from to continue to pluck at his every shred of patience and last nerve. “Now? In another year? Five years? Another decade? Perhaps we will wait until the sky of this world has plunged itself to a permanent starless night sky under the command of the Dark One? I’ll give you my merciful patience when you give me a plan worth its salt.”

[glitterlikegold]

By Marc Hom for Cosmopolitan Magazine - 2011