A Meeting in Maiden Cove
295 Words
The wind was soft that morning, gliding in from the coastal cliffs and stirring the emerald canopies above. Ravannah stood near the ancient stone archway that framed the Cove’s temple gardens, watching the light dapple through trees older than memory.
She appeared beside him as if summoned by silence.
“Excuse me... my lord,” she said.
Her voice was floral, calm—not questioning, but curious. She wore a garment of white and taupe gold, leaves embroidered across the fabric as if the forest itself had chosen her. Her golden-blonde hair swept across her shoulders with each breeze, eyes glinting green like morning dew caught in moss.
Ravannah turned slowly, unsure if she spoke to him or to the gods.
“You know who I am?” he asked.
Virgo smiled gently. “I’ve felt your presence in the roots. Heard your name whispered in river stones. The others may have forgotten, but Ge remembers.”
“No one else seems to,” Ravannah said bitterly. “Even my Watchers carry the world forward without offering thanks.”
She stepped closer. “We Watch because you gave us the ground to stand on. But gratitude isn’t always loud. Sometimes it grows unnoticed, like ivy across an ancient wall.”
Ravannah studied her face. “You speak gently. That is rare.”
“I speak truth,” Virgo replied. “And truth rarely needs to shout.”
They stood without words for a time. Birds spiraled overhead, and the wind carried petals from nearby blooms into the space between them.
“May I walk with you?” Ravannah asked.
“You already are,” she said, turning toward the garden path.
And in that moment, something in Ravannah—something quiet and long-caged—softened.
- Writer
