✉ — inbox call send by, @apocryphis
"lord argenti…" aglaea calls out softly, as they walk side by side along the sinuous maze of okhema's garden - flowers and vines sprouting everywhere they look. a beautiful place she had been keen on showing him, he who has such a keen eye for beauty and grace. a miraculous encounter, for the heiress of a lineage that had, perhaps, doomed her kin to more hostility from the powerfuls of this world while trying to save it. how delightful, to have found another soul that understands romance as well as he does. "you know, had you been born in amphoreus, you could easily have become a priest of mnestia yourself." she comments, a little amused, a little bemused, still, by the similarities between their holy patrons. "you once asked me what beauty was to me… do you mind if i return the question to you?" she asks, a smile gracing her lips. "it is not a conversation i have very often these days, but oh, do i miss it." (not me doing a follow up to one of your asks that i have yet to answer but i regret nothing)
❝ yes, my lady ? ❞ argenti's voice was gentle as he turned his gaze towards her. gone was his earlier fascination with okehma's garden. the bloom-laden archways and the winding paths. now, his attention was solely on her.
her musings about him perhaps becoming a priest of mnestia had he been born on amphoreus brought the faintest upward curve to his lips. it was not an unfamiliar thought. his own devotion had always run so deeply that, yes, in another life, it would only make sense. ❝ had i been born here, i would no doubt have devoted myself to them. ❞ he affirmed with a quiet laugh and a fond glint in his eyes. his heart belonged to idrila yes, but in his mind, mnestia felt like a sister deity. perhaps even the same divine spirit viewed through a different sky. if he could not find his goddess, then maybe … just maybe. ❝ should i be unable to find my deity, perhaps i just might. ❞
his eyes briefly turned towards her once more as he is reminded of how tirelessly she served her people. he admired her truly. there was beauty in dedication like hers. ❝ i venture that your duties don't give you much respite, ❞ he said, head tilting slightly. then, gently, he shook his head. ❝ i do not mind answering that question. ❞ after all, few asked about beauty with the intent to truly understand it. fewer still had the patience to listen.
❝ for me … beauty can be a lot of things, ❞ he began. ❝ it can be a garden such as this, or a person — ❞ he smiled faintly. ❝ not just in appearance, but in spirit. in how they act according to their beliefs. ❞ he recalled his mentor. ❝ i was mesmerised by how my mentor never strayed from what they believed was right. even when it would have been easier to yield. that's beauty too. ❞ he takes in a deep breath. ❝ and beauty doesn't always wear grandeur. there's beauty in simplicity. in asking someone how their day was. in a small gift just to say 'i remembered you'. ❞
❝ beauty comes in many shapes and forms. ❞ he concluded, ❝ and i don't believe it can be defined by one thing. it's a collection. life, i think, can be beautiful … if one is willing to make it so. ❞
❝ i suppose my answer is not all that different from yours, in the end. ❞
