[The Holy Witch Queen's first thought (and she would scold herself for this later) as the ambassadors brought the blade to her was one of gratitude, not for the gift, but for her own long-honed skill in staying tempered.
She leaned forward appreciatively in her throne when the men presented it, took it with gracious elegance in her own hands as it passed from her knight's, did not remove it from its sheath but turned it over lightly in her hands while her visitors told her of its legends. A laughing sword, they called it, and stumbled over Nik-kar-i, from a faraway land, and Emmeryn felt the magic pulsing from it the very second it passed through her doors; in her hands, it felt all but ready to vibrate until it burst.
Emmeryn had descended from her throne then, white robes trailing across the ground behind her, bent to kiss the men's bowed heads, and gave them her blessing in exchange for their offering and pilgrimage and kindness. White magic danced over old scars that faded in their light and the ambassadors left with full hearts when she dismissed them, and then she stepped down to dismiss herself.
Now she's brought the blade to her workshop, set it on an altar so she might sit with it, and only now does she unsheathe the sword where no one would see the Holy Witch Queen draw a blade. It's powerful enough to sense and then some, too strange for her to identify—she can't very well simply leave it about and hope it's let be, but those worries pale against a pull on her heart telling her she can't simply lock the sword away and leave it all alone.]
[On a certain island chain, it is thought that anything can gain a spirit if given time; that the hearts of objects are shaped by the feelings of those who own them and the tales told about them. To those who can use magic that hail from this land, it is fact. If one has the aptitude, one can bring forth these spirits; these small gods.
The Nikkari Aoe has passed through centuries worth of hands by the time it reaches the ambassadors', and been part of as many stories. It has observed the world around it the entire time, always wanting to be a part of it, yet never daring to hope that wish might come true one day. And yet...
And yet the moment it's in the hands of the one the ambassadors called the Holy Witch Queen, Nikkari can't help but hope. This is someone with magic, someone that can help it become someone if only she'd try.
Maybe, just maybe, it can be more useful if only it has a body.
Unsheathed in Emmeryn's workshop, Nikkari calls out soundlessly, yet with such clear feeling that it may as well have been speech:] Ne, is this where I'm staying now? Am I for display this time, or do I get to be at your side sometimes? You're very warm, so it would be nice if it's the latter, you know?
[Maybe this was a bad way to greet royalty? Or maybe it'll be fine. Who can figure with humans? All there is to do now is hope things go over well.]
[oh okay so the sword just spoke to her, so that's cool, that's great; that answers a lot of questions and asks way more
Nikkari probably deserves to find some sense of pride in getting Emmeryn to rattle, even if her uncertainty only takes form in a moment's hesitance, hands going still. She hasn't decided whether the casual tone surprises her more than who or what it comes from, but even so, she slips easily into her usual formalities, sitting straight in her chair and drawing her hands back to fold in her lap.]
I am not a warrior, if you mean to ask for a place in my baldric, but that isn't to say I mean to simply lock you away in a case, either.
[is she talking to a sword. is that the life she's living right now.]
[Although still without a face, Nikkari's tone still brightens.]
That's good. I don't exactly "hear" the way living things do and most people can't tell if I try to talk to them, but I still like to listen. It's hard to do that in a box, you know?
[There's a moment's pause, and then the sword adds:] Oh, and thanks, by the way. For considering my feelings, that is.
[Not that it's terribly good with those yet, but still.]
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mauville2018-02-21 02:34 am
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She leaned forward appreciatively in her throne when the men presented it, took it with gracious elegance in her own hands as it passed from her knight's, did not remove it from its sheath but turned it over lightly in her hands while her visitors told her of its legends. A laughing sword, they called it, and stumbled over Nik-kar-i, from a faraway land, and Emmeryn felt the magic pulsing from it the very second it passed through her doors; in her hands, it felt all but ready to vibrate until it burst.
Emmeryn had descended from her throne then, white robes trailing across the ground behind her, bent to kiss the men's bowed heads, and gave them her blessing in exchange for their offering and pilgrimage and kindness. White magic danced over old scars that faded in their light and the ambassadors left with full hearts when she dismissed them, and then she stepped down to dismiss herself.
Now she's brought the blade to her workshop, set it on an altar so she might sit with it, and only now does she unsheathe the sword where no one would see the Holy Witch Queen draw a blade. It's powerful enough to sense and then some, too strange for her to identify—she can't very well simply leave it about and hope it's let be, but those worries pale against a pull on her heart telling her she can't simply lock the sword away and leave it all alone.]
no subject
The Nikkari Aoe has passed through centuries worth of hands by the time it reaches the ambassadors', and been part of as many stories. It has observed the world around it the entire time, always wanting to be a part of it, yet never daring to hope that wish might come true one day. And yet...
And yet the moment it's in the hands of the one the ambassadors called the Holy Witch Queen, Nikkari can't help but hope. This is someone with magic, someone that can help it become someone if only she'd try.
Maybe, just maybe, it can be more useful if only it has a body.
Unsheathed in Emmeryn's workshop, Nikkari calls out soundlessly, yet with such clear feeling that it may as well have been speech:] Ne, is this where I'm staying now? Am I for display this time, or do I get to be at your side sometimes? You're very warm, so it would be nice if it's the latter, you know?
[Maybe this was a bad way to greet royalty? Or maybe it'll be fine. Who can figure with humans? All there is to do now is hope things go over well.]
no subject
Nikkari probably deserves to find some sense of pride in getting Emmeryn to rattle, even if her uncertainty only takes form in a moment's hesitance, hands going still. She hasn't decided whether the casual tone surprises her more than who or what it comes from, but even so, she slips easily into her usual formalities, sitting straight in her chair and drawing her hands back to fold in her lap.]
I am not a warrior, if you mean to ask for a place in my baldric, but that isn't to say I mean to simply lock you away in a case, either.
[is she talking to a sword. is that the life she's living right now.]
...Can you hear me this way?
no subject
That's good. I don't exactly "hear" the way living things do and most people can't tell if I try to talk to them, but I still like to listen. It's hard to do that in a box, you know?
[There's a moment's pause, and then the sword adds:] Oh, and thanks, by the way. For considering my feelings, that is.
[Not that it's terribly good with those yet, but still.]