#of rhysa

[the-magpie]

The night beckons while you dream,   A life never lives in peace.

   As you stand upon the edge,     Woven by a single thread, And fate may fall down upon you. . .

 . . .While the devil is knocking          Right at your door.

Rhysa Novastorm by @raviollies that I am absolutely in LOVE with. They were super prompt and I would recommend them to anyone! ♥-♥

[the-magpie]

“What have you heard, what have you seen?”

An absolutely lovely piece by Manosdetrapo that I am in LOVE with. Recommend anyone to them!

[the-magpie]

[the-magpie]

An opportune reply.

Flower,

As ever, your offer couldn't have come at a better time, cousin. I've been finding less and less interest in my latest fascinations, and the thought of striking out in a new place, a new profession. 

If you wouldn't mind helping me brush up on my herbal knowledge, that is. It's been too long since I've spent any time in a garden of substance, like the ones you always tended to.

—And to even go to the trouble of finding me somewhere to stay! You're too good to me, Velianor. I'll discuss the details of my departure with father this evenings, though I agree with your assumption; I suspect he'll be just as excited to see me once more in your company as I am.

Much love, and I hope to see you soon,

R. Novastorm

No sooner has she laid her quill down that a knock sounds, drawing her gaze up from where it had been riveted to the desk before her. Stretching idly, she called out a friendly welcome, a warm smile offered to the figure that entered.

Aleric Novastorm stood just as tall, just as stunning as he had all those years ago, seemingly untouched by the passing of time—As so many of their kind were wont to be. Bright eyes meet her own fondly as he waltzed into her study from the door connecting it to his own, hers a near identical copy save for the smaller size.

“It is no good for such a young thing to be cooped up inside all day, sweetling,” Came his playful greeting, as he swept her up into an affectionate hug; it didn’t matter if she hadn’t seen him for a day, month, or year—her father always seemed to have an abundance of adoration to share.

“I was finishing up a letter,” Her words are laughed, as she drew away from her father to tap a finger against the parchment. “Velianor has offered me a job, you’ll be pleased to know. She’s opened an apothecary and has asked me to work in it. What do you think?”

The grin that breaks across his face betrays his enthusiastic answer, one that she'd expected but nevertheless has a beam of her own. Her father pesters her for details she gives willingly, letting him peruse the letter at his leisure as she sets to begin packing. Already, the seed of excitement was blooming; In her mind's eye, the idea of being surrounded by such new surroundings had restless exhilaration settling under her skin.

Her father's voice is knowing when he calls out to ask when she'll be leaving.

"You know me, papa," Rhysa flashes him a wry grin straight off his own face, possibilities already gleaming in golden eyes, "Why wait on such a possible adventure?"

In response to this amazing writing. feat. @ocarina-of-what‘s Aleric Novastorm.