Pretzel Heart
Afterimage of Broad Daylight
Luna Mell ❊ Armina Thayne
❊ Time: Three years ago...
❊ Location: Thayne Estate, Aurhalzen Capital
❊ Support Level: C
❊ Location: Thayne Estate, Aurhalzen Capital
❊ Support Level: C
Last edited:
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Fantasy Fire Emblem Divide: Luna x Armina
- Thread starter Pretzel Heart
- Start date
Pretzel Heart
Afterimage of Broad Daylight
The sunlight was unusually harsh that day, though this fact wouldn't impress itself upon him until much later. Only after the course of his life had been altered so irreparably that it seemed to lead away from any sense of pure reality into a horrifically tangible dream could he recall the way he had lifted a dark arm up to shield amber eyes against the glare. Though which shone with more dogged passion - the sun or his gaze - couldn't be clear.
Otherwise, all was as it had been at the Thayne Estate since the first day he had ever set sight upon it, now nearly three years before. The soft sway of the tall, thick trees soaking in the pleasant Aurhalzen climate. The low bustling of servants, visitors, and guards murmuring like background noise to populate the scene as if only for his own private pleasure. And in the midst of it all...the house. Under the flare of sun it was a jewel wrapped in warm, lush forest, as finely kept as any treasure from within the White Palace. And upon that jewel Luna had become a welcome inclusion, a permanent fixture of granite upon the perfect opalescent gloss. It was hard to believe, really, the events that had so perfectly aligned to bring him to the current point- hands and scissors fiddling dangerously to the rhythm of casual saunter down the foliage-lined path. Luna's luck had been so auspicious that some of the others at the shop wove whispers at the young social-climber's dark intents and puppet-string hands. But young tailor was neither clever nor devious enough for such trickery. It had all simply been a matter of the right person calling out sick at the right time, the perfect storm of shop shuffling, business ventures ebbing and flowing in such a way to land him on the impressive estate. In all honesty it had been a challenge, but one which he had bravely risen to meet. He had made himself near irreplaceable; he could visualize every curve of the master's body with fingers alone, adeptly stitching cloth that he knew would be exactly to his taste with the precise amount of flourishes to accentuate all the right spots. And it wasn't just the dazzle of wealth that had drawn out the young man's hard work and attention to Armand Thayne. Though not really one to look up to others, even Luna could tell that his master was someone special. More than just an employer...Armand was one of the few whom he genuinely looked forward to fitting. As if in the hope that just a whiff of that excellence would waft over him.
But Armand was not the object of his attention that day.
In truth, it had been some time since Luna had last seen him, the decorated soldier having rode off to the call of war. Those were the early days of the Monolith, back before we understood its significance, or could predict the exact breath of tragedy it would cause. The rebellions in Aurhalz, Malth, and Komodo had been handled effectively enough, and to a young, barely politically-minded man of the Alliance, it seemed only a matter of time before the other countries came around. For someone with legs dangling over the edge of an apocalypse, Luna remained strangely calm. His mind passed over war to far distant places even stranger than Patrium's now barren plains, roaming through a future long after the foregone battle was won. He could imagine a world where he came of age under the blight's influence, joining the patron of his teenage years at the front lines. He would return home victorious, with his own line of metals to clink in the sun. No more struggles, no more questions. And as soon as Armand Thayne returned from war, Luna planned to ask him for his daughter's hand.
It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind. Really it seemed more an inevitable conclusion than a question or ponderous "what if..." They were young, surely, but he wouldn't realize just exactly how until years later. On such a day, bathed in Aurhalz's fine heat, all he could think as he precariously tossed his scissors into the air was the shimmer that raced through him every time Armina was near. The tingling sensation the press of her fingers enacted upon his skin at even the slightest brush. Her smile's afterglow which stayed with him even longer, chasing him into the nights. Here was a man with no dearth of admirers. But when compared to what was now before him - all the glorious, beautiful riches of Thayne - there was no more perfect girl, no one more ideal, than the golden-haired maiden he currently sought.
Otherwise, all was as it had been at the Thayne Estate since the first day he had ever set sight upon it, now nearly three years before. The soft sway of the tall, thick trees soaking in the pleasant Aurhalzen climate. The low bustling of servants, visitors, and guards murmuring like background noise to populate the scene as if only for his own private pleasure. And in the midst of it all...the house. Under the flare of sun it was a jewel wrapped in warm, lush forest, as finely kept as any treasure from within the White Palace. And upon that jewel Luna had become a welcome inclusion, a permanent fixture of granite upon the perfect opalescent gloss. It was hard to believe, really, the events that had so perfectly aligned to bring him to the current point- hands and scissors fiddling dangerously to the rhythm of casual saunter down the foliage-lined path. Luna's luck had been so auspicious that some of the others at the shop wove whispers at the young social-climber's dark intents and puppet-string hands. But young tailor was neither clever nor devious enough for such trickery. It had all simply been a matter of the right person calling out sick at the right time, the perfect storm of shop shuffling, business ventures ebbing and flowing in such a way to land him on the impressive estate. In all honesty it had been a challenge, but one which he had bravely risen to meet. He had made himself near irreplaceable; he could visualize every curve of the master's body with fingers alone, adeptly stitching cloth that he knew would be exactly to his taste with the precise amount of flourishes to accentuate all the right spots. And it wasn't just the dazzle of wealth that had drawn out the young man's hard work and attention to Armand Thayne. Though not really one to look up to others, even Luna could tell that his master was someone special. More than just an employer...Armand was one of the few whom he genuinely looked forward to fitting. As if in the hope that just a whiff of that excellence would waft over him.
But Armand was not the object of his attention that day.
In truth, it had been some time since Luna had last seen him, the decorated soldier having rode off to the call of war. Those were the early days of the Monolith, back before we understood its significance, or could predict the exact breath of tragedy it would cause. The rebellions in Aurhalz, Malth, and Komodo had been handled effectively enough, and to a young, barely politically-minded man of the Alliance, it seemed only a matter of time before the other countries came around. For someone with legs dangling over the edge of an apocalypse, Luna remained strangely calm. His mind passed over war to far distant places even stranger than Patrium's now barren plains, roaming through a future long after the foregone battle was won. He could imagine a world where he came of age under the blight's influence, joining the patron of his teenage years at the front lines. He would return home victorious, with his own line of metals to clink in the sun. No more struggles, no more questions. And as soon as Armand Thayne returned from war, Luna planned to ask him for his daughter's hand.
It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed his mind. Really it seemed more an inevitable conclusion than a question or ponderous "what if..." They were young, surely, but he wouldn't realize just exactly how until years later. On such a day, bathed in Aurhalz's fine heat, all he could think as he precariously tossed his scissors into the air was the shimmer that raced through him every time Armina was near. The tingling sensation the press of her fingers enacted upon his skin at even the slightest brush. Her smile's afterglow which stayed with him even longer, chasing him into the nights. Here was a man with no dearth of admirers. But when compared to what was now before him - all the glorious, beautiful riches of Thayne - there was no more perfect girl, no one more ideal, than the golden-haired maiden he currently sought.
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