Even if It Burns
Posted: Tue Jul 09, 2024 12:36 am
Even if It Burns
8th of Glade, Year 124 of the Age of Steel
8th of Glade, Year 124 of the Age of Steel
A few weeks ago, Astræa had heard something interesting in the changing room of Aqua Vitæ. It was supposed to be some innocent gossip. Sibilla was complaining about her most recent paramour, who was an Aværyan guard. Apparently, the man had been busy and barely have any time to see her since what happened in the Mascerata Regia Ball. She scolded herself for not thinking of it sooner.
It made her think of someone from her past. Cassius. He had always wanted to be a Knight Reverent and had trained to be one as a teenager. There was no doubt in her mind he would have been recruited. An Aværyan guard would have been present during the assassination. From what Astræa had heard through the vines, Vrædyn was unharmed, but this was a chance to confirm it and feed her curiosity about what had happened.
So, Astræa came up to Sibilla and joined the discussion. The starborn sprinkled in how envious she was and asked if the man had any friends to introduce her to. The other girls quickly chimed in, declaring their interest. Who wouldn’t want to have some attention from the Aværyans? After some back and forth, Sibilla finally announced that she would ask her dear Livius to bring some of his friends to party in Aqua Vitæ.
The young starborn knew it would be a long shot, but it didn’t hurt to try. A few days later, the group came. Much to her disappointment, there was no sight of Cassius. Not wanting the night to go to waste, Astræa still approached one of the knights. Even with all the drugs and booze, he was still hesitant to talk about what happened that day. It was understandable. Astræa was a stranger, just another dancer he wanted to play with, not talk about work with. Instead of pushing too far, she switched to making sure the man would return next time with a different group of guards.
She repeated the cycle a few more times.
Tonight another group came in and even with a cursory glance, the young woman could see that it was another failure. She almost sighed out loud, but she was in the middle of a dance number so that was not an option. With a flick of her wrist, Astræa sent arcs of water spiraling into the air, the droplets catching the light and transforming into a cascade of shimmering diamonds. She twirled, and the water followed her, forming a vortex that rose higher and higher.
When the priestess expected it the least, the Midnight Mother finally rewarded her efforts.