"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
06-03-2015, 10:38 AM (This post was last modified: 06-03-2015, 10:39 AM by Rhy.)
and when I breathed, my breath was lightning
She walks to the Tundra this time, because she isn’t sure if any of the sisters will be following her or not. After discovering that she can ride her electric, walking has become something of a chore. Particularly between the Tundra and the Amazons. But she doesn’t want to arrive days before her potential other diplomat, because that seems to defeat the purpose of inviting them in the first place.
She feels endlessly different after the quest. Everywhere she looks, she can see death. Glimpse of what will come, some many years in the future. She won’t be here to see it again, thank goodness, but she knows that some generation of Beqanna will be here to fight the old gods and die at their hands.
It makes her wonder why they keep going at all, truthfully.
But still, she keeps going anyway. Because she loves the Jungle and her Sisters, because she longs to see Kratos when she can and split the sky wide. Because what else can she do, anyway?
Eventually, the weather turns cold even though it’s spring everywhere else in Beqanna, and finally she sees the ice wall looming ahead of her. God, walking is horrible. She stops at the border and lets out a call for the diplomats and more particularly, Errant. And then she settles in to wait, sparks jumping from her skin to keep her warm. After all, she has absolutely no winter coat. She’s got to stay warm somehow.
when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth
Errant uses his magic infrequently; he relies on his own senses to interpret the world around him. That said, he’s perhaps a bit more in tune with electricity than the average horse, having grown accustomed to Kratos frequent displays of power in the night sky. This is different though –not weaker, simply different – and he looks up from his grazing to see a stranger at the edge of the kingdom. Brennen’s walls are of assistance in keeping out the unwelcome (and the wolves), but this mare has stopped at the border, giving him cause to think that she’s mostly likely a diplomat.
Leaving his sparse meal, the shaggy black stallion makes his way toward her, knowing that he’ll probably be joined by another brother at some point. Closer now, he can pick out the red flower, like a splash of blood on her chest, and knows the mare for an Amazon. They’d just been meaning to send an envoy there- perhaps this mare will make that redundant. (Errant doubts it will – Crito still has a personal message that Errant wants Scorch to receive from the mouth of her family and not from strangers.)
“Hello,” says the stallion, a faint smile appearing briefly before vanishing into a more stoic façade. He’s polite but not overly friendly, and while Errant has not always been this way, there are life events that can change a man and he has had more than his fair share. “What brings you to the Tundra?”
e r r a n t
no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her
06-04-2015, 11:50 AM (This post was last modified: 06-05-2015, 11:17 AM by Kyra.
Edit Reason: edited because scorch totally doesn't have to attend this, and my post was confusing
)
and when I breathed, my breath was lightning
It isn’t long before someone finds her, and she’s grateful, because she’s not a fan of hanging out in the Tundra all that long. She can keep herself warm, so the cold isn’t necessarily the issue. Rather, it reminds her too much of the snows that destroyed the Jungle some years ago. Reminds her of the time she spent alone, patrolling the kingdom, digging through snow banks praying that one of her sisters was not beneath the snow.
She prefers not to relive those moments.
But still, she should get used to the Tundra. Scorch was interested in this alliance, and Rhy had to agree with their Queen on this one (ah, look, something they agree on completely, how rare). She trusted the Tundra men more than the Deserts. Trusted the blood tie between Errant and Scorch. After all, she would trust her own blood in the same way. She also trust Kratos, despite everything he is, to be there should she ever ask.
“Business, of course,” she says with a grin, because clearly he knows this. That is why all diplomats come and stand on the border seeking the King. Life is full of repetition. “I’m Rhy, from the Jungle, clearly.” She gestures toward her chest for a moment. Sometimes it feels a bit ridiculous to tell people where she is from. They must know.
Rhy and Scorch are hardly strangers. Not blood, either, but something close enough to family through Kagerou. Rhy loves having some connection to the grandmother she never knew, and Scorch seems comfortable enough with Rhy to tell her stories. Including the story of Scorch’s childhood and how she was switched at birth. Something Rhy gathers is not common knowledge, and something the electric mare will never repeat.
Even if they don’t always see eye to eye diplomatically, Rhy considered Scorch a friend. And that bond was entirely separate from their kingdom duties and diplomatic approaches.
“We heard of the overthrow of your last king. I’m here to see Errant, if he can spare a moment. “ Of course she can’t know this is Errant. They have never met before, and he doesn’t introduce himself. So instead she waits for the stallion to give a name, or say that Errant will be along, or isn’t here. Or whatever the correct answer is.
She’s trailing Rhy, as she had volunteered to do, but this is the first time that she’s been north of the Jungle, and the temperate climate is fascinating. She’s not sweating, but by the time she reaches the Tundra she is shivering, unaccustomed to the chill and lack of humidity in the air. Having been distracted by a small flock of ptarmigans, Ephrelle is somewhat late to the meeting, and arrives at Rhy’s side as she is being greeted by an unfamiliar black stallion. Having only met a single male (and that her brother), the varnish roan filly is intrigues. She knows better than to say anything though, and bites her tongue. She does smile at the black stranger and then at Rhy, hopeful that she is doing all right despite the fact that this is her first diplomatic mission.
When the older Amazon asks about Errant, Ephrelle’s dark ears prick up curiously. She thinks of her mother, who has told her stories of Errant. He is her great-grandfather, she knows, and he had ruled the Tundra before Ephrelle (and Dorne) were even born. He had left the throne to his son, Ephrelle’s great uncle Ianto, but it seems that things have changed. It occurs to Ephrelle for the first time that she might not be able to rely on others. She might need to find things out for herself.
Shaking a shiver off of her varnish hide, Ephrelle waits for the black horses’ answer, curious to see if he will lead them to her ancestor and wondering what King Errant must be like. If he’s anything like this stallion, she supposes he must be very powerful. “I’m Ephrelle,” she adds, in case her name is important – though she doubts it.
when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth
He glances over at the filly that arrives – a bit late – at the side of the Amazon. She seems a bit young to have pledged herself to the kingdom, but I had let my daughter Aena join their ranks only a year older, and I suppose that the swearing of vows is a personal choice. Both females are thinking of other horses – Rhy of Scorch and Kratos, and Ephrelle of an unfamiliar spotted mare – but I see this only coincidentally – I am not trying to pry. For the most pat I keep my magic under a right reign, but now and again a few threads emerge. They are usually helpful, but sometimes, like today, they have no real purpose.
The elder Amazon is friendly enough, and I return her pleasant smile for one a bit warm than the chilly expression that I’d worn before. It’s always more pleasant to speak with those that enjoy diplomacy than with those that seems to struggle through it. I suppose that this is why the filly has tagged along, to learn how to be a diplomat.
“You’ve found him,” Errant says when she asks to see the king. He bobs his head slightly, a gesture to himself, and then looks back up. “Mountain is no longer with us, that is true. What can I help you with?” While the Chamber might have been told that Mountain was deposed, Errant is not entirely sure that any of the other kingdoms know of the exact method. Electrocution and encasement in stone is not a particularly pleasant way to go out, but it was the which led to Errant’s current reign as king.
e r r a n t
no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her
Ephrelle joins her, and she’s glad to have the girl along. It’s good to see the younger generation joining the Amazons, growing up enough to come on missions. Rhy wouldn’t send them out alone (except to the Chamber, so long as Straia ruled). But she certainly encouraged them to accompany others on missions. Hadn’t she done the same thing? Not that Rhy had much of a choice. Her parents left with Kora when Rhy was still a yearling. She had no choice but to strike out on her own. To find the Jungle alone.
She still remembers that day, despite the number of years that have gone by. No one had greeted her, and eventually Rhy had plunged into the Jungle alone. She found her way, though she got tangled and destroyed by the underbrush in that first trip. The Jungle had been so quiet then, but look how far they had come. The Sisters were something to be reckoned with once again.
Ephrelle introduces herself, and Rhy gives the girl a small nod and a smile before turning her attention back to Errant. He seems to have warmed up slightly, and Rhy isn’t sure if that’s because she’s pleasant, or because he’s trying to be friendly around the girl. Either way, she does appreciate it. Rhy, for everything she is capable of being, still prefers happy and kind to anything else.
The black stallion identifies himself as King, and Rhy’s glad. It makes things easier when she’s found the right horse in the first place. Or really, he found her. His response about Mountain is brisk, and she doesn’t pry. It isn’t her business and doesn’t particularly matter much for this conversation. Besides, if Kratos had anything to do with it, she expects he’ll tell her in some bragging story of his. He was prone to bragging, after all.
“A pleasure to meet you, Errant.” It was nice to finally put a name to the face that Scorch talked about so frequently. She trusted him, and Rhy would admit she saw no reason so far not to trust the stallion. He simply didn’t strike her that way, not that she has any ability to tell for sure. Simply her gut reaction. “We’re here to find out your thoughts on an alliance between the Amazons and the Tundra, now that you hold the throne.” She imagines he is expecting this conversation, though maybe not from her. Either way, here she is. It’s her job, after all.
when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold dark earth
The black stallion has always had a soft spot for children, and while he has warmed up as a result of Ephrelle’s presence, he is also friendlier simply because Rhy is friendly. Having mostly dealt with his sister and then with Lagertha Kingthief, Errant had been inclined to think that most Amazons shared their brash natures and disregard for politeness. To a stallion that has always been polite (on the edge of cold, no kingdom-related pun intended), Rhy’s personality is a welcome change to what he had been expecting.
“And you, Rhy. You’re a vast improvement on my sister’s personality.” He smiles, clearly amused at himself and not bothered if his two companions are not as amused. He’s no real worry of offending the Amazon – Scorch is not well-renowned for her sweet temper and mild manners. Rhy asks after an alliance, and Errant lets his amusement fade in deference to the more serious nature of this matter. “I’ve spoken to the other members of the Tundra, and we are inclined to forge an alliance between our kingdoms.”
“It would include all the usual – friendly steals and challenges, and aid in time of trouble.” That is the standard for alliances between any two kingdoms and Errant has no doubts that the terms will be acceptable for the Jungle as well. “In addition, we’ll suggest joining the Amazons as a possibility for any fillies born in the Tundra if you’ll do the same for any colts born in the Jungle.” That had been the agreement the first time he had ruled, put into place when Echion was Khaleesi and continued with Kagerou. Errant is not sure if the tradition had continued with kings after him, but he is positive that Mountain had done nothing of the sort.
e r r a n t
no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her
She follows the conversation of the adults with curious green eyes, her head turning from one to the other as they speak. When the black stallion says that he is Errant, she lets out the quietest of gasps. This is her great-grandfather!
He does not look capable of breathing fire, but mother had sworn he could do it – among a plethora of other things – but Ephrelle is suitably impressed. Still, she continues to listen quietly until Errant says that the Tundra does want an alliance. That is a good thing, she thinks, and looks over to Rhy for confirmation. When he mentions sending colts to the Tundra though, she finally speaks up again, most of her attention focused on Rhy, since it’s to the older mare that she offers her suggestion. “Roe needs somewhere to live since he can’t stay in the Amazons. Maybe he could come here?”
She can’t help but laugh at Errant’s comment. It’s no secret that Scorch is wildfire, certainly. And she often acts it (though in rare moments, Rhy has seen her play a skilled diplomat). “We have a standing pact that if she ever gets out of line, I’m allowed to shock her.” Rhy says, chuckling slightly. She figures Errant might appreciate that little tidbit, and while this meeting is mostly about business, it’s good to relax as well. This is Scorch’s brother, after all.
Though she recalls the story of Scorch’s upbringing, and wonders how old the two of them were before they knew they were blood relations. It makes her wonder, briefly, how one can ever really be sure. Scorch must have thought her siblings were an entirely different set at one point in her life. Did she still trust them as she trusts Errant?
It’s strange how alliances can change on a blood tie alone. So much weight put into something so very fragile, really. After all, her own cousin had no such allegiance to her father. Yet Rhy trusts her, at least in certain regards, because they are cousins. Go figure.
“I’m glad to hear that the brothers agree with an alliance.” She says, her own amusement fading away, but not the ease that comes with talking to Errant. She enjoys pleasurable meetings as much as he does. “The usual are certainly acceptable, and I believe the sisters will be happy to agree to the additional term. It doesn’t harm anyone, and can perhaps help us both.”
Ephrelle speaks up at this point, and Rhy looks down and grins at the girl. She’ll be a great diplomat one day. She’s far more pleasant than some of the other sisters. Errant isn’t wrong in that regard. “I think that’s a great idea. Would you like to be the one to suggest it, perhaps?” She waits for a moment, and then turns her attention back to Errant. “Is there anything you need from me? If not, we’ll be out of your hair.”
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