flora
The stained glass shimmers with light; gold and turquoise and violet spill across the floor like the ocean learning how to be light, and Flora stands in the middle of it all, barefoot, trembling, her curls pulled up and still refusing to behave. The cream silk dress she wears is the one Enzo bought for her oh so long ago, soft as breath and clinging faintly to her skin in the humid air. Wildering House feels alive around her, and tonight, it is.
Every window has been opened, every curtain drawn. The air smells of salt and wax and damp earth. Kaisel had helped her clear the space, his steady hands doing what hers couldn’t. Now the room breathes; candlelit, blooming, every shadow softened by life. Ferns stretch toward the glass ceiling, their green leaves shivering in the breeze; orchids bloom in chipped cups, roots coiled in bowls of rainwater; a hundred small flames flicker like held breaths. On the table at the centre of the room rests a single white lily, its stem half-submerged in a vase that glows faintly from within.
She’s been preparing for this for years. Six long years of prayers whispered to the dark, of promises made and kept, of lessons learned that no one saw. Flora doesn’t think of them now, she just feels the weight of all that wanting, the ache of it pressed into her chest like a second heartbeat.
The spirits of Wildering House have been invited to witness this moment as well. She can feel them in the shifting air, in the curtain that lifts and sighs without a hand to touch it, in the silver chime that sings above the doorway. They crowd close, unseen and waiting, drawn by the pull of what she’s daring to ask. Her fingers fidget with one of her gold rings, twisting it until the metal warms beneath her skin. Then she steps forward, into the wash of coloured light, and raises her chin. "Hey Mort," she begins, voice soft but steady, "it’s me."
The words tremble, but they don’t break. "You’ve seen everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve tried to be, to be worth of this, and now... I’m ready." Her breath hitches, and she swallows hard, blue eyes bright and wet and hopeful. "Please. Bring him home." The candles waver. The house exhales. And Flora, surrounded by life and ghosts and the weight of her own heart, closes her eyes and waits.
Flora is using her Impossible Thing to bring Enzo back!
Magic: Divine Acknowledgement | Can pray to a god from any location (does not have to be at a shrine) .
Type: Light | Rank: Mastered | Cost: (None)
Every window has been opened, every curtain drawn. The air smells of salt and wax and damp earth. Kaisel had helped her clear the space, his steady hands doing what hers couldn’t. Now the room breathes; candlelit, blooming, every shadow softened by life. Ferns stretch toward the glass ceiling, their green leaves shivering in the breeze; orchids bloom in chipped cups, roots coiled in bowls of rainwater; a hundred small flames flicker like held breaths. On the table at the centre of the room rests a single white lily, its stem half-submerged in a vase that glows faintly from within.
She’s been preparing for this for years. Six long years of prayers whispered to the dark, of promises made and kept, of lessons learned that no one saw. Flora doesn’t think of them now, she just feels the weight of all that wanting, the ache of it pressed into her chest like a second heartbeat.
The spirits of Wildering House have been invited to witness this moment as well. She can feel them in the shifting air, in the curtain that lifts and sighs without a hand to touch it, in the silver chime that sings above the doorway. They crowd close, unseen and waiting, drawn by the pull of what she’s daring to ask. Her fingers fidget with one of her gold rings, twisting it until the metal warms beneath her skin. Then she steps forward, into the wash of coloured light, and raises her chin. "Hey Mort," she begins, voice soft but steady, "it’s me."
The words tremble, but they don’t break. "You’ve seen everything I’ve done. Everything I’ve tried to be, to be worth of this, and now... I’m ready." Her breath hitches, and she swallows hard, blue eyes bright and wet and hopeful. "Please. Bring him home." The candles waver. The house exhales. And Flora, surrounded by life and ghosts and the weight of her own heart, closes her eyes and waits.
Flora is using her Impossible Thing to bring Enzo back!
Magic: Divine Acknowledgement | Can pray to a god from any location (does not have to be at a shrine) .
Type: Light | Rank: Mastered | Cost: (None)
you'r under the feeling like teenagers in cars
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours
it ain't robbing or stealing if the moment is ours
