[ @faeltiera continued from here ]
“Reassuring,” said Loredis, with a little quirk of a smile, “yet also not.” Indeed, they were but ants to the cosmos, tiny indistinct flickers of life on the surface of a wide blue planet, or so Lallvren enjoyed reminding her whenever he felt she might be gathering too many airs and graces to herself in light of her new-found status. Sometimes, it was very pleasing to think of it that way, too; it was easier to feel less visible, after all, when one reminded themselves that they were, truly, rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things. An ill-informed or inexperienced little slip up in front of an ambassador or, worse, a fellow monarch, seemed far less mortifying when she was able to put such an error into perspective and recognise that while it might have seemed like the end of the world to her, in the great plan it was but a paragraph.
Sometimes, though, Loredis would have liked what she did – and especially, what she had suffered – to mean something more. She chided herself internally for such a selfish thought, but it remained nonetheless, lingering there in the back of her consciousness until the next time it reared its ugly head. What was it all for? She ploughed on steadily at everyone else’s whim regardless of how much she might be aching, or breaking, and yet frequently found her efforts frustrated and the end result...seemingly fruitless. But that was the role of a Queen, was it not? Bear the weight upon her shoulders so her people didn’t have to. ‘Til whatever end might please the Gods.
Some nights, she supposed, it was just easier to bear that weight than others. Tonight was a night when she was weaker, or so it seemed. A faint sigh passed her lips, and her arms folded as she stared out through the open window into the perfect Vanitahmar night. The moon glittered on the calm surface of the ocean, and the scent of sea-spray delighted her nose, as the delicate breeze ruffled her snow-white waves. At least here, there was peace…for a while. “Do you think it all matters still, though? What we do, and what we don’t?” What we win, and what we lose. “Do you think it’ll make a difference?”
“That y’ask that at’all means that y’ve forgotten somethin’ very important or perhaps y’never knew it…”
The young Fae’s expression is far more serious than it is wont to be. Perhaps her thoughts had drifted with Loredis’ words, or perhaps she had simply discerned the mood of the other.
“While it’s true that we’re but two little flames…” she begins, reaching one hand out to rest on the other’s shoulder––though so careful not to touch her skin––while the other raises up, palm aloft. There appears upon her fingertips two of the smallest little flames indeed, dancing and flickering in place as though uncertain.
“Even the smallest a’sparks can start a fire t’keep a body warm in the cold a’the night. And even the littlest flame can begin a wildfire.”
With her words, the two little fires seem to flare and grow… and then as though drawn to each other, they meet and before long, burst into a blaze atop her palm.
“… People aren’t so diff’rent. All it takes is one brave soul t’have a belief, t’make a stand an’ hold their ground… an’ one person at a time, that strength an’ courage spreads… All it takes is one person t’start somethin’ that won’t be stopped till it reaches its end, whate’er that end may be… Yet, however it might grow, still it needed that first t’start it.”
