- Pronoun
- they or she
The light of the setting sun gleamed warmly off the golden pauldrons of the armarouge atop the gatehouse. This was a holy light. She basked in it with gratitude. For Aurelia, time passed easily like this – she could remain statue-still for hours, facing towards the sun.
The clunk, clunk of armour on parapet stone signalled the arrival of her counterpart. All good things must end – or at least, they must rest.
Estelle scraped a blade along the crenellations to announce her presence, and each guard took their ceremonial position on either side of the gatehouse platform. They saluted each other, arm to breastplate, in an arcing motion that symbolished the path of the sun across the sky.
"Day-Captain," whispered Estelle, "you have dutifully worn the colours of day's end, and earned your rest as has the sun."
Aurelia answered, softly. "Night-Captain, you approach at the day's end, to stand vigil in the night. I yield my watch to you."
"You stand relieved."
Aurelia stood at ease as the ceruledge took her post at the fore of the gatehouse.
"Nothing to report from today's watch. Any news?" she asked, casually.
"No."
This was usually how conversations went with Estelle. It made Aurelia smile. People, things, places – given enough time, pretty much everything changed. Ones that hardly changed at all were precious, in a way. She sighed.
"The sun may sleep, but our duty endures."
"The sky may change, but our watch continues."
Aurelia was about to walk back along the wall to descend to the fort interior, when Estelle did something very un-usual.
"Wait," she hissed.
"What is it?"
"Something's different."
Aurelia felt it, now – a negative pressure in the air, as during a storm. But Sunward didn't get storms. Not ever.
Change was coming.
The clunk, clunk of armour on parapet stone signalled the arrival of her counterpart. All good things must end – or at least, they must rest.
Estelle scraped a blade along the crenellations to announce her presence, and each guard took their ceremonial position on either side of the gatehouse platform. They saluted each other, arm to breastplate, in an arcing motion that symbolished the path of the sun across the sky.
"Day-Captain," whispered Estelle, "you have dutifully worn the colours of day's end, and earned your rest as has the sun."
Aurelia answered, softly. "Night-Captain, you approach at the day's end, to stand vigil in the night. I yield my watch to you."
"You stand relieved."
Aurelia stood at ease as the ceruledge took her post at the fore of the gatehouse.
"Nothing to report from today's watch. Any news?" she asked, casually.
"No."
This was usually how conversations went with Estelle. It made Aurelia smile. People, things, places – given enough time, pretty much everything changed. Ones that hardly changed at all were precious, in a way. She sighed.
"The sun may sleep, but our duty endures."
"The sky may change, but our watch continues."
Aurelia was about to walk back along the wall to descend to the fort interior, when Estelle did something very un-usual.
"Wait," she hissed.
"What is it?"
"Something's different."
Aurelia felt it, now – a negative pressure in the air, as during a storm. But Sunward didn't get storms. Not ever.
Change was coming.