IMPORTANT ~EVERYONE~

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

Hestia, she was lucky. To have had her mother close during the time of transition - to hear the words coming from her very lips, that the crown shall now belong to her daughter. Scorch couldn't even begin to imagine such a scenario. Her own mother - faux mother, that is - treated Scorch as coldly as if she were manly scum during her childhood. The then-khaleesi hadn't time for children she did not love, and it pained Scorch to no end. Perhaps it was for the better, however. For it was that urgent sense of need to make Echion proud that drove Scorch's every action, every decision, every thought. It was because of Echion's cruelty that, over years of fierce loyalty and dedication, Scorch followed in her mother's footsteps and assumed the throne.

The Amazonian throne.

Heartfire, granddaughter; long months ago they had reunited, the day of Scorch's reincarnation. That day, her progeny had mentioned this land - this Nerine - this Amazons reborn. It was questionable at best if the mare still dwelt here - Scorch had taken her sweet time in arriving. But her timing, nonetheless, was perfect - for as her ugly, scarred legs carried her across the Nerinian border, a summons was loudly issued from the bowels of the land.

She smiled. Every part of her rejoiced. It felt right to be here - as if the spirit of the Leopard walked alongside her, guiding her way.

The sound of the ocean greeted her far before the chatter of the gathered residents, but it is warning enough that she slows her footsteps and draws silently closer until she is just outside of their sights. Flicking an eyelid across her molten orange eyes (so like the tattoos that used to adorn her ugly, mutilated body), the dragon-eyed mare observed those gathered through heat vision. Separated from the others stands a woman, who Scorch took to be the Queen by her posture and isolation. Before long, that self same mare began speaking, welcoming the crowd.

Welcome her.

Her spiel was long - as long as Scorch's would have been, in her place. Her tongue rolled over the name of yet another ghosted leader, another name to be forgotten in history. Next she referenced the Amazons of old - the kingdom - the meetings - the family - the heart of it all. Scorch felt her innards twist. What she wouldn't give to return to that time. To the tattoos, the rituals, the swearing in of young ones, the business of a thriving kingdom life. Here, life seemed to be dwindling. Her skin twitched.

This is not the Jungle, you are not the sisters of old, Beqanna will not take form and join us this day." As if on cue, the filmy shadow of the Leopard dissolved beside her. In the storm of her feelings, Scorch could not be sure whether she had imagined the figure or not - but regardless, she sent a silent prayer to the gods, thanking them for their benevolence. For Beqanna - even in this form.

Silence fell, for a time. A well placed pause, a time to reflect upon the words she had spoken. Memories of better times play in Scorch's mind, images of beloved lifelong sisters and friends. Kagerou, Malka, Brunhilde, Lagertha, Asterix, Quark. Every name, every face, in these silent moments did resurface, bringing on fresh waves of sadness and mourning. The place where her rose tattoo once sat burned, burned like the fire that once deformed her so mightily.

Gods, how I wish you hadn't taken so cruelly from us. From me.

The silence was broken then, and Scorch glanced up from her bent position to watch as the Queen began slowly traversing between her subjects, touching each of them, sharing her scent and creating a bond that, in a way, mimicked the bond of the sisterhood. Scorch appreciated the gesture, despite not being the recipient of one. In time, she would come to know the Queen, and that bond would be created between them, too.

When the prattle of regular kingdom business came to an end, the once-khaleesi considered her options. She could announce her presence to the kingdom and claim the center of attention (something the younger, far more impulsive and dramatic Scorch would have done in a heartbeat, and something that she did truly consider standing there in the shadows), or she could drift into the background and introduce herself to Hestia at a later time. One hoof lifted in genuine indecision, Scorch bit her lip and thought, teetering between revelation and secrecy. Her eyes blinked.

As her figure melted further into the background (close enough to listen, far enough to ensure her hidden nature), something queer occurred. Summoning her powers, the mare focused on this Queen. Without warning, light flashed around the mare's black head, a small amount, not enough to draw the crowd's attention. The filmy strands, white and glossy, floated for a moment, dancing like stars around the Queen's eyes. Then, they gently floated into her ears, dispersing a message therein:

Hello, Hestia. Well done on your first kingdom meeting - the Jungle would be proud. I am too.
Find me, tomorrow, in this same place. You won't be disappointed.

Scorch

Once Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle