Snow for our Ruined Convergence
![]() | x | Noel Clavero ─────────── 1st Year Durmstrang |
N |
Speech: #4e677e «Bonjour» |
N | ![]() |
NC 16.Feb.2026 | N |
Only two weeks prior, Noel had held an old volume from the Durmstrang library between his fingers. It spoke of Baba Marta, a witch of the Ket-Volk. Yet as he read of that revered woman, one of the founders of Koldovstoretz, he had not in the slightest, imagined that he would encounter Elena here again of all places. Whereas even that unannounced echo was overshadowed by the sight of her standing upon the ice with the blue-eyed De’Luca. For hours, Noel had been attempting to recover from that image. Never before had he been this grateful to not have attended an event with friends. At the mere thought of possibly having been observed with such a perplexed expression, his shoulders drew imperceptibly tighter. The snowflakes fell from the blackened sky. They seemed to gather within the clouds, only to descend with deliberate intent, like a dramatic visitation. Noel witnessed them in silence, attempting to cast off his thoughts — though it was only the snow that loosened from his hair. Dark-blond strands settled in languid indifference, nearly obscuring his sight. For a brief moment, the boy came to a halt. He brushed part of his hair behind his ears whilst his legs sank deeper into the untrodden snow. The cold greeted his shins. That fine sting of pain proved distraction enough to briefly wipe the many questions from his mind. In these moments, the world was small for Noel with the distance too great, too much time with too few moments. Instinctively, he turned his head back toward the place where he‘d had journeyed from. In the distance, the tents still lingered in view. The few scattered lights still rebelled against the late night air. Shortly after returning from the couple figure-skating, Noel had resolved not to spend the whole night in his bed. The questions crowded too insistently within the courtyard of his mind. Yet with distance from his place of rest, far out by the ruins, he could at least allow his eyes to roll. For the Durmstrang student had not seen Elena for nearly a year. Or perhaps it was already over twelve months. After an intriguing encounter within England‘s nature, there had been no cause for further contact. After all, they were neither friends nor even acquaintances. And yet, at times, the thought of her would drift over his head, whenever his mother Marietta stood before him in stern composure. Neither was the De‘Luca scion a familiar bird at his window, but together? «Bizarre», Noel almost silently hushed. He imagined that the chances of coincidence seemed favourable, as he lifted his foot from deep in the snow and stepped closer to the wall. Near the ruin, the cold white no longer rose so obstructively with each step. With a brief glance along the height, Noel supposed that the tall stone must have shielded the ground from the worst of the weather. At the very least, it allowed for easier passage by its side. His shoulders loosening almost of their own accord. Within a few steps, the time corroded stone led him around the corner. The tents faded from behind him the deeper he ventured into the old ruin. Its beauty hummed silently of the past, luring Noel to almost lose himself in the nostalgia of home — in abandoned rooms and forgotten design. Yet with the next step around another corner, he found himself provoked by fate. Noel stared, his features undone. It was none other than Elena, who stood there in the midst of the snow veiled ruins. Long, blond hair fell along the softness of her features. It was haunted, cascading in waves like those of princesses Noel had so often read of in old libraries. Her pale skin seemed almost to glow beneath the snow-laden moon. With closed eyes, she existed among the falling flakes like a spirit wandered astray. Her breathing moved so imperceptibly that, slowly, a knot began to form in his chest. Unease unfolded. Noel turned his gaze from her to the moon — and back again. A critical furrow settled upon his brow, only accompanied by the soft descent of further snowflakes. No wizard lingered in the sky, holding her in place by spellcraft. Cautiously, his eyes slipped downward, now aiming at her shoes. There was neither any signs of intoxication — and she was most evidently not some flower engaged in meticulous lunar photosynthesis! Though, that last possibility he was not entirely willing to dismiss. Noel was just about to raise his voice. He had already taken the first quiet steps in her direction. The question of what was happening resting upon his tongue, when his eyes swept the surroundings, searching to see whether anyone else might be near. He was not paranoid, yet the situation was too peculiar. No one stood half-concealed in a corner. Nor did anyone lie in the snow with wand drawn toward her, keeping her spell bound. They were entirely alone. Noel had seen enough. The blond turned his attention back to Elena and resumed his approach. This time, he was deliberately louder, although his steps, elegant by nature, still bore no resemblance to those of an elephant. «What are you doing there, Elena?», he inquired, and though the matters of the figure skating had already begun to recede, another question slipped in between. Touched with quiet irritation, «Are you recovering from the tournament by imploring the moon for emotional support? I rather doubt—» Noel paused, as uncertainty crept in. He swiftly turned toward the pale, glowing disc. «—that she will answer.» The moon rested upon the firmament, its light piercing even the heavy veils of falling snow. The glow caught in his hair as it had in Elena’s, tracing along the strands and illuminating his skin until both seemed little more than nightly apparitions. He could not imagine that a planet would make a suitable confidant. Let alone a therapist capable of guiding one through the confusions of a skating routine. And yet, Noel focused, for he knew nobody was all-knowing. |
N |
mentioned: @Elena Clark; Note: What Elena is doing in this post was discussed prior to this starter. ; WC: 1008
[url=https://hogwarts.io/memberlist.php?mode=viewprofile&u=72799]PC: Lorenzo Vincenti][/url]
conmarth_reim_spiritum_fadra. xest_paks_hyma_fshn_null.
conmarth_reim_spiritum_fadra. xest_paks_hyma_fshn_null.
Snow for our Ruined Convergence
![]()
![]() ![]()
![]()
| ❆❆ | ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()
|
| ❝ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧-𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤, 𝐡𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥.❞ ☘︎ STAFF ACCOUNT ; ᴍᴀʟᴀɪᴋᴀ ᴏᴍᴇɴᴜᴋᴏ |








