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 Posted: Fri Nov 01, 2024 9:37 pm
Characters: Marcello and Sorya
Prompt: A young prince is sent to an isolated temple to learn to control his power. A little monk helps him navigate his new surroundings. Their reunion years later is bittersweet.
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Posted: Tue Apr 22, 2025 9:15 pm
   Were Sorya to be asked, she would be hard pressed to pick out a favorite memory of her life spent in the temple; every moment she could recall was precious now, more precious than any jewel plucked from the earth. There were times that she regarded more fondly and with more warmth than others, and times that still wore heavy on her shoulders, in the pains she carried.
The first time she met the little prince Marcello was very much the former. With maybe a touch of amused annoyance.
He had looked so small holding Grand Mother Candena’s hand, freshly shaved and pouty about it. The Grand Mother had made Sorya solemnly promise to look after him, and Sorya had taken the responsibility very seriously, following the little prince at a distance in respect to his incredible hearing. With a hair-trigger temper fueled by the pain of hearing so much all the time, he had fussed over the littlest things, and Sorya had watched, learned, and listened as Mother Raubin advised she do. Her patient dedication was soon rewarded.
Of the few children they had had in the temple at the time, she had been the quietest, and had been the only one Marcello let take him by the hand to guide him somewhere peaceful, away from the hourly bells and chanted singing. He had blossomed as he grew accustomed to his magic and learned to control it under Grand Mother Candena’s careful guidance, and though Sorya remembered the years slipping by very slowly as a child, looking back on it he had grown far too quickly, departing from the temple in only a few years time. The last she had seen his face she had only just begun her journey into womanhood while the baby fat had still clung to his cheeks, but presumably the war kept him from continuing to make his visits to the temple past his tenth year. She had missed him, but separation was an illusion; he would always be there in her memories, and in her heart, just as she was sure she was in his.
Which was why when she crossed paths with a young man in the gardens, his verdant gaze gleaming in the waning light, she knew him for who he was. She would know him were she blind and deaf and he had an entirely different face. She smiled, and bowed, hand clasped over fist.
"Your highness, it has been too long."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬location ♫ Utopia, Gardens accompanying ♫ Marcello wearing ♫ clothingooc ♫
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Posted: Thu Sep 04, 2025 10:56 pm
 
It was a painful sight for anyone gathered around the temple gates when Prince Marcello's arrival. A child thrashing in protest against the will of the King and the Queen. Piercing shrieks tearing at the young one’s throat, refusing to take the gentle advice from the sisters to breathe. Convinced that only chaos would overturn his rehoming and lead him back to the castle walls, where he felt like he truly belonged. The confusion of being suddenly unwanted and cast into foreign lands, filled Marcello with grief. A life once refined and polished from silver spoons now replaced with the nuisance of clingy gongs and chants that made him wish he would one day grow deaf. From that very beginning, she was there.
He took in every sound that surrounded them as she approached closer. Those soft bells following the new footing found carefully and almost weary through the journey of life lived without each other. It was odd, almost too different from what he remembered, or perhaps he had buried it to be forgotten to selfishly relinquish himself from the heartache of avoiding the temple. Yet still with every blink Marcello was flashed with sights that framed old memories. Echoes of the past ringing childish antics, chants and rituals unveiling new simplicity and beauty that came from her quiet calm guided hands. Her own beauty would grant him solace and friendship.
With steady breaths he mustered the courage to approach her as if he had been visiting for years past. As if he had the right to cross the distance he had created.
“Your highness, it has been too long”
The words spoken gracefully from her lips was music to his ears. Why did he choose everything else over her? Marcello shifted behind his lens, trying to justify his young foolish ambitions. The bitter lessons of chasing dreams at the expense of forsaking a part of him. Regret sticking to his conscience. There was so much hurt that was rising within him, but he refused to let it fully surface as a means to show her his growth. Not yet, not in front of her.
“And whose fault is that?” Alas, he couldn't resist a flicker of his old childish pride. The Prince smiled passing a sly chuckle, though as he drew nearer to her, it faded quickly.
Marcello took advantage of their once close bond, lifting her chin with a gentle touch before cupping her cheek, his thumb tracing the texture of her scar. His brow furrowed through a mixture of frustration and sadness. “Sorya…if only.”, his words were failing him the more he gazed upon the cruel testament of war permanently etched onto her face, all while he was sent away. Further formalities escaped him as he swept in for a tight embrace.
Through a hush whisper only meant for her he confessed, “An apology feels meaningless, if I cannot take this pain away.” Marcello pulled himself back, reached for her hands, daring to hold them tightly. “Tell me, then…What would you have of me?”
━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ♫ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━
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Posted: Wed Dec 17, 2025 8:24 pm
The little prince, now grown and standing at eye level with her when he once only ever looked up to her, approached with a familiar razor wit that had her smothering a laugh behind one hand. How many dinners had involved him snapping and sassing at Grand Mother Candena, who had returned the favor with equal heat…? The memory was bittersweet now, but describing it in such a term felt…off. There was no bitterness in remembering it, only an old longing she would hopefully one day shed.
Breathing deep, she leaned into the gentle touch to her cheek, not fully capable of putting away her smile even as his own faded. To experience the warmth of someone who knew her, who loved her, who loved the temple as she did…was there anything more wonderful?
Sorya learned that there was when Marcello engulfed her in a tight embrace, one that she at first hesitated to return before her own arms snaked around him to hold him back just as firmly. Resting her chin on his shoulder, his voice was a whisper just for her, hidden away in the hood of her shawl from the rest of the garden and whoever else may be exploring its paths. A part of her wished this could just be a joyous reunion, that there need be no acknowledgement of the grief they both bore…but that was always going to be impossible, wasn’t it? The temple was where everything had begun, how they had met, where they had grown together. It should not have been just her here, greeting him. And in a way, if the elders’ teachings were true, it wasn’t.
Through each other echoed every memory of their loved ones, no matter how far away they were. That…should be enough.
When Marcello pulled away, Sorya moved with him, though it ached to part from him so soon. He soothed some of that pain by taking her hands, and she peered into his eyes, recognizing the hurt in them as a reflection of her own. Now it was an effort to smile, but she tried, and gave his fingers a squeeze.
"What would I…" she echoed quietly, well aware he would catch every word, every breath, every beat of her heart while this close. She shook her head, Fifer’s earrings tinkling gently at her ears. "To see you is more than I dared hope, your highness. To know that you are well and healthy is a boon to me. I will hear no apologies from you, only of how you have fared all these years."
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬location ♫ Utopia, Gardens accompanying ♫ Marcello wearing ♫ clothingooc ♫
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