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be noble, for you are made of stars [anapa, from below]
IP: 199.21.85.184


Like Anapa, Alethea often drew stares. But she was used to it, and it was for an entirely different reason. Now firmly on the threshold of womanhood, the last vestiges of girlishness melting away with the babyfat, Alethea was not merely pretty…she had the kind of storybook beauty that seemed impossible in real life. Her hair was like late autumn wheat in the golden hour. Her eyes were misty-dawn blue. Her voice was music. Everywhere she went, people stared after her and smiled, sometimes greeting her with a heartfelt “My Lady.”

But they rarely said anything else.

Thea assuaged her loneliness by abusing her power over young men. She knew they couldn’t resist her (with one very notable exception), so it was no effort to convince one to accompany her on her errands, or entertain her for an afternoon. She’d considered other, more experimental varieties of entertainment, but something always stopped her after the first stolen kiss. Ultimately, her heart wasn’t in it. But her reputation as a tease and a heart-breaker had not diminished anyone’s willingness to keep her company, when asked.

On this particular afternoon, she was alone, and had intended to stay that way. Instead of a dress, she wore riding breeches and boots, a practical blouse, and had a satchel swung over one shoulder that bulged with books. She’d barely practiced her newly acquired and long-anticipated magic, and was eager to use it…and to determine if any other latent powers had emerged with the coming of the flood. She was moving on autopilot, preoccupied with her plans and so accustomed to the maze of hallways that she no longer had to keep track of her steps and turns. The gossiping she hear around her didn’t register until she rounded a corner and saw a stranger dressed in black from head to toe.

Alethea stopped. The giggles of the maids and groundskeepers suddenly registered. Apparently, this spectre of a man was none other than the one who crash landed in the middle of that ball, a few weeks back. Thea had been meaning to seek him out, but hadn’t wanted to add to the mob of spectators she was sure hounded him wherever he went. He’d been a novelty then, but he was even more so now, since he had warned the kingdom of the impending disaster. Thea wondered if their awe would have manifested differently, if he’d caught wind of the future from a crystal ball instead of the whispers of future dead…if that’s even how it’d worked, anyway. A jilted suitor had once called her a succubus, after all.

“Hello,” she greeted him, resuming her walk. “Are you looking for the garden? I can take you, if you like. I’m going that way myself.” She smiled, all pink lips and perfect teeth, and offered him her hand to shake. “I’m Alethea. And you’re Anapa, I’m guessing?”


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