Vanil

//Wee woo wee woo simple sentences, mention of canon character, and general cringe ahead// The queen's attention shifted, to where she and her people now hold dominion. She gave thought about her arrival here; what she told her followers; how many believed her words of a haven in the mountains, and with little to no questions. More importantly, of how when they arrived, there was...nothing. No queen, no drones, yet minimal signs of conflict; nothing substantial to indicate if their society collapsed or if they themselves went through their own exodus. Regardless, the previous occupants were completely absent. A vacant kingdom, and its Hollow Shades below, as if it had been awaiting them all this time, for a new queen. Inevitable that her mind would turn firther back into the past. Crystal streets still gleaming under black skies of the most stormy of days. Life felt normal, but noticeably off.Silence and an odd sense of acceptance where dissent would have been. This was probably where Cadenza's brand of fear came into play. Structured, yet emotionally chaotic in ways neither she nor her subjects could quite recall, aside from that it was supposedly intertwined in daily life. What she could clearly remember, was looking behind at the border; the dome protecting the Crystal Kingdom from the forever harsh winters of The Far North, and the twinkling silhouettes of her flock from its shining brilliance. Beckoning them to return, but they know better, and kept trudging into uncertainty under the cover of perpetual darkness and unrelenting blizzards, away from Omelas. Seen as a savior, and now queen. These weren't roles she had asked for, but they weren't ones she could afford to mishandle. But she is aware. She sees it in the way they carry themselves in her presence, or the rooms she had previously set hoof in... Still, the manner of their arrival remains a concern. Security and patrol reports ruled out blind spots and infiltration. Something that could slip past all manner of wards and defenses, and simply be. She then consulted her court mages, which served to give more weight to the guards' rumor that this stranger is indeed of another realm. Vanil’s gaze lifted toward the sealed doors, as if expecting a guard or another stranger to be eavesdropping, or rearing to barge in. Paranoia begin to flare up again. Her hooves felt restless, so she stood from her throne, and started pacing about the hall. "If one can arrive," she monologued, struggling to maintain a steady voice, "others can." What if others would not arrive lost and disoriented? What if they arrived with purpose before they even cross whatever boundaries to reach here? Can they do it anywhere, anytime? Is it just the one, or are there already more? This made the stranger significant, especially given their method of entry and possible origin. Vanil’s ears flicked slightly as she pontificates. The stranger had shown fear, probably. Confusion, certainly. But not reverence. Not the quiet, instinctive deference Vanil had grown accustomed to among her own. She had been looked at directly. No higher expectation. Maybe a lower assumption. Unaligned, and therefore: Unpredictable, but useful. Dangerous, but equally valuable. She ceased her pacing in front of the doors. It's nearly time for her to speak with them, anyway. "A variable," she concluded. One she had not accounted for, and would need to understand quickly.