"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
Sulfur.
It's not overwhelming, and sometimes he has to search for it, but it's there and it smells like home. Dahmer pauses at the invisible border of Tephra and the Field, where the air becomes humid and warm. It's early spring but the home of the volcano feels like summer, prompting a gentle sigh from Dahmer's lips. Winter in the River hadn't been particularly enjoyable for the stallion who despises even the possibility of shivering, and aside from that, he has a few others reason to be happy.
First, he is home.
Second, the child. Dahmer is unsure which should be his primary reason, or if he should even choose, but both bring him more joy than he'd felt since stepping into Tephra the first time. He had planted roots in this place, he had given it his soul, and had missed it dearly.
Despite the current happenings with Ellyse, the black beast is well aware that he may not even be welcome here anymore, and he doesn't know Offspring enough to even hazard a guess. So with a groan of hesitancy, Dahmer raises his dark head and icy eyes, delivering a call for the King of Tephra. His newfound wings, still unused, nestle against his ebony frame, and he rustles them occasionally. The weight is still foreign and unfamiliar on his shoulders, but he's grown used to the way the feathers tickle against his side. Ellyse, his thoughts remind him, can show you how to use them.
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings.
The scent of sulfur and the salty brine of the sea are lost on him; he is fully immersed into the land of volcanic matter and ash – no longer does he shy away from the stillness of the summer heat, nor does he grimace as his own movement stirs the beading of sweat along the slope of his broad spine. There are only three seasons on the volcanic island – tolerable, hot, and hotter – and he has become accustomed to them all, despite his towering height and thick girth.
It, too, had become his home – long gone were the pillars of ice and stone of his memory, the frigidity of winter, the brutality of polarizing gusts of wind traversing through the winding and jagged rock formations – the tundra had fallen, and with it, it had taken a piece of him with it. Yet, it was the volcano that now held a part of him; a larger part, which he never thought possible. It was with his plea, with his heart open and bare, that the land had been birthed – it was a part of him, and he, a part of it.
He was hardly taken aback by the protest that accompanied his rise to power, as he had long ago anticipated it. While he had once been content to settle, to become one with the island, and as quiet and as still as the dormant volcano itself, he would not stand by to have what had been given to him taken away. He would not stand by to have what had been given to all of them taken away. Not again. He had to act, and if he bruised an ego or two along the way, so be it, if it meant protecting the island and everything that it stood for.
He did not see Dahmer’s ferocious and sudden leave as a weakness; he saw it as a strength. Though his temper had been sharp and abrupt, his heart had been in the right place – he, too, loved Tephra, and though his emotions had been rife with tension, Offspring knew that is was more complicated than he knew. He would not fault him. He knew, in time, he would return – the volcano would call to him, with its rising plume of smoke, its sulfuric ash, its winding rivulets of lava.
He belonged to the island as much as he did.
Thus, he is not surprised when he sees the starkness of his physique against the wavering, golden grain, and quietly, but swiftly, his muscular legs carry him across the pockets of bubbling lava, and through the dense vegetation – the heft of his weight leaving deep impressions in the moist and fertile soil.
Yet, he is different – harnessed upon his shoulders are broad, inky black wings, folded tightly against his barrel, bristling beneath the bold and bright sunlight. He does not question him – he knew how giving the fairies could be (and just as ruthless; the fire within him stirs at the thought) and he felt no need to pry. With his dark gaze settled upon him, and a sheen of sweat glimmering across the surface of his marred flesh, his voice rises – rough, but audible.
”Dahmer. You’ve returned.” he murmurs, observing the hardened ridges of his features – piercing ice meeting with burning fire. ”Welcome home.”
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.
CURIOSITY KILLED THE CAT & SATISFACTION BROUGHT HIM BACK
Dahmer closes his blue eyes and then there is nothing but the slightly sulfuric wind and the warmth of Tephra. His home. He inhales deeply, slowly, as if he has been dying without it. It is the same, but it is also different (can it be both?), and it feels good.
His icy eyes open at the sound of hooves.
Even as Offspring approaches, his dark frame immense and daunting, Dahmer feels more happiness than he does anxiety. The King has the final decision, to keep the black beast or to point him from Tephra, but simply standing back in the volcanic territory has lifted Dahmer's spirits. The former councilman lowers his narrow head to Offspring, though his bright eyes take the moment to wonder at the other stallion's marred flesh. Dahmer rustled his feathered wings against his own coat, suddenly very aware of the change he'd undergone during his time at the River.
The Tephran King moves straight to business, pushing all distractions from Dahmer's mind and drawing forth a genuine smile to his dark lips. "It's good to be home," he says with a quiet chuckle before raising his head and flicking his tousled forelock to the side. He turns his gaze from Offspring, moving it to the volcano in the distance so that the other stallion can't see his eyes become glossy.
"Thank you, Offspring."
Clearing his throat, Dahmer finally turns his gaze back to his new King. He stands taller now, his thoroughbred frame responding proudly to the feeling of renewed purpose. He has Tephra, and soon, he will have Smoak. "I would like the chance to show that I can be a worthy advisor to you. Please tell me where I should start," he requests pleasantly.
you can have my isolation, you can have the hate that it brings.
He had been there since the beginning.
Quiet. Watching, waiting.
Power did not appeal to him, but it did come naturally to him. He is a foreboding presence – towering, with dark, inky flesh marred with puckered scarring, and deep, unwavering eyes of crimson. He does not need to speak to command attention, nor does he need to draw attention to himself by any drastic means. He is often stoic and unwavering – a motionless, unflinching pillar of indifference – but beneath the apathy lay a plethora of emotion and thought, with a heavily churning set of gears, always moving, always turning.
He is not unfeeling; he has loved and he has lost. He has been a lover, a father, a companion, an enemy – one cannot merely exist nearly two centuries without living, after all. Not without becoming restless. Yet, time had taught him to conceal his emotion, and so it is not often that is permits it to unfurl from the hearth of his chest, where a tired and weary heart lay beating merely for the sake of doing so.
Alas, even he cannot retreat into his memories forever. He had faded into the obscurity of the volcanic island, lingering elsewhere amid the long tendrils of grain and the bubbling pools of magma, with its unnatural glow illuminating the darkness of his unexceptional features beneath a dimly lit sky – but he had been watching. Watching, waiting. The volcanic island had been his refuge in the aftermath of the Reckoning – it had been the refuge of so many, and quietly, he had watched the territory grow, prosper, and slowly fade.
Such was the way with any territory. Like the never-ending ebb and flo of the ravenous sea, like the tide raking itself over the ivory sand of the shore, it had changed. He would change with it.
A low, rumbling chuckle bubbles forth from the confinement of his throat, an amused glint glimmering in the darkness of his searing, burning eyes of brimstone and fire. At the corner of his mouth, a faint smile tugs at the supple skin, baring his teeth – if only slightly. He did not often permit his guard to fall, but Dahmer exudes a genuine contentment that is contagious. Stiffly, he adjusts the heft of his weight from one leg to the next, as his gaze finally averts away from the brightened features of his face, seeking instead to trace the jagged lines of the steep, pluming volcano, momentarily drifting off in thought.
”You are familiar with Ellyse, I imagine,” he muses aloud, glancing for a moment to gauge the reaction of the other. ”she is currently the only one remaining on the council. I would like to take what Magnus and I built a step further, and implement the council in any and all diplomatic proceedings.”
He pauses, then.
”I do not want to be a King anymore, Dahmer. The kingdoms have fallen, and change has come. It is time to change with it. My position will only be known as the Overseer, and the council will hold as much say as I. An oligarchy, if you will. I will need an advisor that is knowledgeable of each territory, and their diplomatic standings – an advisor that can act as a liaison between the Head of War and the Head of Peace – and myself. Furthermore, the advisor will oversee the guard that will be implemented to monitor our borders. Should you still be interested in the position, I ask that you familiarize yourself with the history of the territories, the Head of War, and in time, familiarize yourself with me. I will decide by the end of the winter as to who I will be appointing to the council.”
you can have my absence of faith, you can have my everything.
