What comes next, he does not quite know, but it is part of it. Ezra had spoken it before he had left, before he had made his way back to Ashdown and home and the life that had very nearly taken from him.
For a moment he thinks he sees something on the floor in front of him. A spot on the floor that is human sized, his size, and everything within it has been scorched.
It is a trick of the starlight because it flickers out of his vision and is gone when he blinks.
Instead there is movement at the chair and his glowing eyes find focus on that instead. A form shifts and stands, small hands patting at a lovely dress of dark colors, and a pair of mismatched eyes stare at him. One is golden, the other looks black. Her hair is white, pulled back into a loose braid, and she tucks a stray strand behind her ear before she respectfully bows her head.
Jeremiah approaches. Watches her with a passive face as she bows once he is close enough.
"I have been waiting for you," she says.
"Have you?" he replies.
"For a long time, yes." There is something sharp about her even if she is far, far shorter than him and a dainty thing. Hidden within her was strength and he could sense it. "I have been waiting for you to take your rightful place." She gestures towards the chair, for him to have a seat.
He does so. Leans back into it and rests his right ankle across his left knee. Something thrums through him, a feeling he cannot quite put a name on but would have described as invigorating.
As freedom.
She smiles at him and curtsies. Her had actually bows to him, eyes not remaining on his face. It is submissive and he understands.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting," he finally says with a wry twist of his lips. Jeremiah knows what this means, knows that now his place is within this Court. That she is that which will carry out his will in his absence from it. "Do you have a name?"
"None that matter anymore." Her posture straightens and her eyes train upon him. "If my Lord would grace me with a name, I will forever be in his service."
Jeremiah watches her quietly, his fingers tapping a brief beat against the arm of the chair before he nods towards her. "Fell," he tells her.
"I am Fell, my Lord; my existence is yours and your will is mine." She nods and curtsies once more. "You are coming into your true power and I would see the world you will help shape with my eyes."
Jeremiah says nothing in response but a slight incline of his head and listens to her as she speaks. The cycle of rebirth is behind him now.
Only the future remains.
final word count: 559
