It was here that she found the peace she longed for, an escape from the uncertainty waiting for her back at the Hill. The usurper still sat Haruko’s throne, though she had not had another encounter with the woman since the challenge. Perhaps she was off amassing defenders to ward against an attack, Davida wondered, but the mere idea of battle made her stomach churn. She wanted a peaceful solution that would see her reunited with the only home she had known since birth, but as the days ticked by, that possibility seemed more and more unlikely. Davida had ventured here as a distraction, to captivate her mind with thoughts beside the unreachable promise of home or the absence of her children once again. She tilted emerald eyes up towards a starless sky with a sense of weightlessness as the stardust rained down, dusting the dove-colored woman in a light layer of iridescent sheen. It was as though she was a cloud passing through a star-studded sky, drifting this way and that before she settled down in one place and discovered there were few features she recognized this festival—an alarming rate that seemed to only increase each year.
He hummed quietly to himself, looking out across at the people and considering. It had been a busy evening, and he was tired; the stardust festival always seemed to be crowded, but he could never remember it being this busy. But, he supposed, that was the way it was. He could sleep later if he wanted to. Which he would, for a long time. The black knight sighed, stretched himself with a faint groan, and swiveled his gaze around to stare at other people.
A man with one eye. A child sleeping in the dust. A couple having some kind of discussion. He returned his attention to the oblivious one-eyed individual, considered what it would be like to not have two, decided that one could use a rock as an eye instead, and kept looking. Some other people of no particular interest. A stranger, sitting by itself.
Yes, that would do.
He would fall asleep without someone to talk to, and then someone would step on him. He stood in a surge of dusty black hair and stumped the ten or so yards that separated them. The stranger was much older than him, white, smaller -
He eyed her for a moment, something about her jogging his memory. Whatever it was didn't come to him in a slightly awkwardly long time while he stood and stared at her with wide silver eyes. He jerked visibly back to consciousness, made a strange stammering noise, and then appeared to get back on track.
"Uhhhhh..."
"Oh, good evening. You looked bored, so I thought, um, maybe you wanted someone to talk to. Or, I don't know. Do you?"
Was that what he thought? He rarely just approached strangers and tried to strike up a discussion.
"My name's Rascal," he added, somewhat lamely. "Eins. Rascal Eins. Knight of Divine."
