This one is mine again, figured I should help the Phoenix Court move along after the Duel concluded.
Dark is the sky Overcast
As a mindful herd, compelled by curiosity and restrained by custom combined with a twisted sense of duty, Nobles and their servants stood. Their eyes transfixed on the moving shapes of their mistress, their leader and another whom she pursued relentlessly. Fine droplets of rain tried to cloak both combatants in a shroud of minuscule mirrors. Falling both on body and into eyes. Washing the crimson, warm guilt of slaughter to the soil below. Exhaustion was given no voice, sputters of watery mist in their place as mouths soundlessly burst forth their pleas borne from a body that no longer wished to move. That felt the pain, the searing heat of freshly rend flesh.
Cold was the touch that greeted them. Not only of steel but that of enveloping rain. Nemean stood rooted. Like a wet yet breathing palisade he and the other Nobles looked on as Selenia struck down the Duke of Blades, Andross. As the soil could hold no more, water pooled in the road. Turning to mud the earth and embracing the Duke as he released command over his body. His slack hair vanishing under its filthy, brown surface. His ivory teeth a stark contrast serving as ultimate resistance. Even in defeat and beyond movement, in oblivion as his wakeful presence, he did not yield.
Seeing how Selenia left the circle in which she had dueled the Duke, Nemean came back from his horrified reverie with a start. He involuntarily stepped forwards. The nose of his boot vanished in another small puddle of mud. Moving through with his stride he forced himself to complete it and turn it into a semblance of intent. Moving through the rain, he flicked his head sharply to the right and saw the wet strands of his now dark, gleaming hair whip to the back of his skull.
He stepped lightly and positioned himself at the entrance of the Temple of the Triumvirate. Glancing into the entrance of the great temple he felt a chill run down his back. He didn't dwell on it, didn't want to know. Was it caused by the wind or by that most dreaded of emotions, fear. There was no place for either now. He clenched onto that resolution and tried to push all other considerations from his mind. Forcing himself stand erect, he braved the wind and rain. Raising his chin he ignored the discomfort. Smooth skin a slide for raindrops.
Waiting for a moment he finally looked at Selenia. She had moved in the same direction as he had, towards the Temple. As their eyes met Nemean inclined his head near imperceptibly. Resembling a statue, unmoved by the discomforts of the flesh he deliberately and in a flowing motion offered her the full breath of the Temple entrance. As her body moved through the arch that was the doorway, Nemean looked back at the other Nobles gathered outside.
His hand did not drop to his side, only his eyes moved, from person to person.
