Tag: Gigi Etoileur x 4

Daylight fills the room, and the noise at last begins to fade. A clear blue peeks in through the window and I can see Her there, even as the sun makes its rare appearance over this grey village.

I hadn’t planned for this, not any of it. But then I’ve always been quick on my feet, turning on my heels into the next plan if the first fell flat. Perhaps that’s where I left myself open, coming here with little more than ‘something else’ in mind. I can’t scheme my way through this, though.

My body aches, and it’s the most blissful, and real, I’ve ever felt.

I’m so afraid, starlight. You’re a stranger to me, even if you know me down to the faintest whisper. Goddess help us, I’ve done so much wrong, and to find...

The sky had already begun to pale from inky violet to fading lavender as she charged down the path and into the family gardens. On another night, Ghislaine might have stopped again to consider how it might look beyond the swathe of arcane shielding that held the last of the world in its care. But not this night.

This night, her as-yet-budding frame railed against a blooming vine, caught on the gossamer filaments woven into her hair as she rushed past. She spun about, swatting at the tendrils with an embittered cry, until at last the silk-lined satchel she carried was pitched unceremoniously at a nearby statue- an alabaster priestess poised in prayer, peace on her parted lips with her arms open wide.

Schoolbooks, strewn about the...

For the whole of Ghislaine’s life she’d been surrounded by the sea. It was, truthfully, one of only a handful of things she could rely on, even within the static world of her people’s own creation. There were more than enough sharp edges and shadowy corners within those glittering halls, after all; it was a place where your closest friends played parlour games with your darkest secrets, and the social hierarchy was a revolving door. Impermanence was a way of life, perhaps to make up for so little change within the confines of their world, from platters of decaying fruit to yet another torrid affair reduced to ashes.

But the sea never cared much for these triflings. Unspoken consort to the Moon, it stood apart in its wildness...

The dismal morning drizzled outside her windows, gently rocking the runed framework of her Rustberg manse on reckless, seafaring winds. Rain-spattered portals to the grey beyond, they afforded a blurry look into another dreary attempt at dockside daybreak- fitting for how Ghislaine’s world swayed around her even before she lifted her head.

Silk bed sheets pooled at her feet as she rolled bitterly from their warmth, spilling onto the marbled flooring as though its smooth, cool surface might ground the disquiet in her belly. She had never been prone to sickness- had rarely suffered much more than a rueful morning, with an herbal draught and a splash of arcwine in her orange juice to get her through. But a a few days had passed with...