12/8/2025, 9:30 PM
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What did Yue know of pelts, when her entire life was swathed in silk?
Had she ever truly known destruction, as she passed orders to generals to execute her will? These questions did not swirl around in her mind yet, but perhaps one day soon they would. At this moment she appraised and appreciated the stark differences between them. His culture was sundered from hers but not altogether foreign; after all, she had learned his mongolian tongue from one of her earliest tutors, and she did not study subjects that had no use. Their kingdoms were neighbors in some aspects. Distant cousins, in others.
His eye contact was potent, as she knew to be the way of his kind – but it was also the way of her kind, so lilac held patina, following his downward as respect was paid; attention, diverted. The twist of a smile upon her face portrayed her acceptance of the honors, and a wide sweep of her tail accepted his invitation to join him amongst his hides.
The Empress walked forward, looking around at his disarray, and then towards the ruffian himself. There was something quietly endearing about the way he held himself, a flame that she saw within certain individuals that could not be extinguished. After so much upheaval, it felt frivolous to sit and bask in another’s light, but Yue found it a fortuitous sign for the future: though all was new, even here there was light, and contrast. a duality that made life worth living.
She didn't notice her own silence, as she gazed about. Yet her mind churned, thinking that if war could be autopoietic, then something like sheer survival could be as colorful as a tapestry, or as fine as lacquerware, or as exquisite as calligraphy.
Whatever one wanted to call it, it deserved to be seen as a work of art.
Had she ever truly known destruction, as she passed orders to generals to execute her will? These questions did not swirl around in her mind yet, but perhaps one day soon they would. At this moment she appraised and appreciated the stark differences between them. His culture was sundered from hers but not altogether foreign; after all, she had learned his mongolian tongue from one of her earliest tutors, and she did not study subjects that had no use. Their kingdoms were neighbors in some aspects. Distant cousins, in others.
His eye contact was potent, as she knew to be the way of his kind – but it was also the way of her kind, so lilac held patina, following his downward as respect was paid; attention, diverted. The twist of a smile upon her face portrayed her acceptance of the honors, and a wide sweep of her tail accepted his invitation to join him amongst his hides.
The Empress walked forward, looking around at his disarray, and then towards the ruffian himself. There was something quietly endearing about the way he held himself, a flame that she saw within certain individuals that could not be extinguished. After so much upheaval, it felt frivolous to sit and bask in another’s light, but Yue found it a fortuitous sign for the future: though all was new, even here there was light, and contrast. a duality that made life worth living.
She didn't notice her own silence, as she gazed about. Yet her mind churned, thinking that if war could be autopoietic, then something like sheer survival could be as colorful as a tapestry, or as fine as lacquerware, or as exquisite as calligraphy.
Whatever one wanted to call it, it deserved to be seen as a work of art.
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