[open] the graveyard follows the trail of the flame; any

[magnus]

I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down
I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound

Tephra is safe, enough, and he finally feels comfortable enough to venture forth.

He wakes as the sun is barely beginning to crest the horizon, the island still swathed in dark and dusk. A frown touches his brow as he looks out over it, knowing that he was leaving the only comfort he had in a moment like this to strike forth into places where safety was not guaranteed. He knew that it was likely that he would contract the disease in his travels. It was unlikely that he would be able to save himself from it, but he felt no fear. He had never been interested in saving his own hide while forsaking his family and today was no different. Now that Tephra was stable, he needed to see what was beyond her borders.

So he rises to his feet, shaking himself free of the dust and soil, and looks for those who had wanted to travel with him. When it is settled, when he feels confident that he is leaving Tephra as safe as possible, he turns his nose to the border and begins to make his way through the island. 

There is more land for him to cover than he can wrap his mind around, but he chooses to start with the North.  It has been a long time since he had made his way to these forests, but it is not difficult for him to find the way. He walks slowly, finding the path as he goes, the warm winds beginning to fade to a more temperate spring as Tephra bleeds away. When he finally reaches the border, he pauses, lifting his head for a moment and then letting loose a low, throaty call for whoever might be here still.

I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine

[Ruan]

the taigan

"Has it been so long, Magnus?" So long, that he would not call for his friend as he arrived?

His deep voice melded with the forest breeze, an air of slight, dry amusement embedded in its natural firmness. Steady and quiet, as always, the winter wolf stepped forward with blue gaze pinned to the man he'd once considered a friend, however foolish it may or may not have been. As far as he knew, he had no reason not to trust the man before him. He believed him honorable thus far, but well was he familiar with betrayal by those closest to him.

"How is your Tephra after all these years?" he asked evenly, unaware of the mistreatment of the good man's kingdom as it passed hands repeatedly; some more likable than others as these things tended to go.

"The Taiga still thrives," he offered pointedly, a hint to the resolution that he intended to keep it that way. The true Taigans were relentless creatures, loyal to the land and those that protected it and each other. They would not balk if his dear friend dared to bring trouble to them. It wasn't something the Magnus he knew would ever do in a million years, but then Ruan seemed to be a terrible judge of character.

He allowed the quiet to grow as he waited to see how long it would take for Magnus to recognize him. Or for Jinju or Romek's daughter to join him in welcoming an old friend.

This was how he'd met Circinae once upon a time. The thought was unwelcome, though, and he shattered it before it could expand.

[Set]

“You’re going to have to do better than that!” he shouts as he hurtles from the cold, grey water.

From the spotted hide of the leopard seal to the piebald hide he’d been born with in the blink of an eye, he surges through the knee-deep water, teeth gritted against the splash of ice and salt. His blood is frenzied with the thrill of it, his Friends tasked with only one order: keep him from reaching his destination. It is a wild and bloody ritual, one that used to leave him broken and bleeding for weeks but now keeps him at his best. Not to say he always escapes unscathed – he ignores the burn of salt to his wounds in one hindquarter from a near miss with a rather determined pod of orcas on his swim over from Icicle Isle. He had escaped into the leopard seal’s form after they had trapped him between ice floes – a body more agile than his own, as well as the black and white whales’ - but not before one had taken its pound of flesh.

The tide is low and it is only a few strides before the water is only up to his fetlocks. There is a brief strip of sand that sucks at his hooves as he slows to a limping jog, his left hind dragging. Magically feeling out his wounds, he stops, nostrils heaving against the damp spring air. A large part of muscle is missing but regeneration is child’s play. The beach is deserted and for a few moments more, his breath and the leathery sound of new muscle and skin stitching back together is all that fills the silence.

A sniff. Thick, calloused pad on shale stone. The hungry pant of an apex predator.

Ears twisting on top of one another, Set determines the wolves are coming from both the east and the west, using the thick bank of fog to disguise their approach. He twists his head, easing his breathing and scenting them out. No doubt led by Niklas’ pet (the typically undetectable hellhound sometimes joins in the fun), it is the pack that took him down the last time he had lost. Their eyes, bright yellow led by blood red, bounce in the fog, drawing closer. Not wasting any more time, he coils and springs, skimming across the sand and the loose shale it gives way to, charging into the forest ahead with a whooping crow that’s swallowed by the fog and ancient trees.

They do not waste a beat, converging together briefly before fanning out in a V formation, driving their prey deeper into Taiga. They can smell the blood on him, from his hastily restored wound. It spurs them on, deeper through the dim wood, tongues lolling from their mouths.

Set is running full out now, instinctively finding the Taigans’ paths, many overgrown from disuse. He’s warm, sweat streaking his sides, behind his ears. He glances back over his shoulder, turning impossibly to avoid a redwood as big around as he is long, tucking his knees to clear a small boulder as he looks ahead again. He can no longer see and hear them – he resists searching for them with his magic, instead depending on his natural senses. Skunk-tail lashing him on, he plants his hindquarters and shoves off of the path and through a thick curtain of vegetation. The low branches grab at his legs, nearly tripping him up several times. He drops his head as a counterweight, his momentum finally carrying him free and clear before he skids to a halt.

Shaking out his short, dreaded mane and blowing hard, it dawns on him that he’s stumbled on to a conversation. Unperturbed, his gaze rolls up. The grin that meets the vaguely familiar buckskin and the purple-marked stallion is a mischievous, crooked one. “Ruan, Magnus. It always seems to put them on edge when he knows their names before they his.

[magnus]

desire consumes me like a fire consumes me

It has been a long time since he has seen Ruan.

Another life. Another world. Both of them remain fundamentally the same and yet wholly changed by the circumstances around them, pressing into their sides and molding them into something new entirely. Still, his handsome, rugged face warms when the wolfish stallion appears from the trees. “Ruan,” he greets, one corner of his lacerated mouth lifting into a roguish smile. “It has been a long time,” he muses, thinking back to the first time they met, on a venture similar to this. “I am glad to see you haunt Taiga still.”

He has no way of knowing the pain that has occurred in these woods. The trauma. The shards of it still buried in Ruan’s very heart. Such is the way of slipping in and out of time, the events that feel so catastrophic to others completely pass him by. Still, he dips his head in greeting, chuckling a little under his breath at the question. “Tephra remains strong.” His lips press, gold-flecked eyes defiant—although what they are defiant against is unclear. “I intend to make sure that she stays that way.”

On this, when it comes to their respective homes, the two would always see eye to eye.

Magnus is almost ready to open his mouth to explain more when the magician comes crashing through the vegetation. His gold-flecked eyes widen slightly in surprise although he doesn't startle, nostrils flaring to take in a deep breath. Recognition strikes deep in his belly when he finally places Set’s face, dredging up the memory of that encounter in the field. The stallion’s knowing of his name doesn’t entirely phase him, having guessed he had some sort of power the first time they crossed paths, and his lips curve upward again. “Hello, you,” there is a flash of humor in his eyes. “I haven’t been spat out yet,” he rolls his shoulders, referencing their first, odd meeting. “Although I’m positive to be second course soon.”

He twists his gaze to Ruan, curious to the other’s reaction.

“I had come up see how Taiga fares in the current climate. Keeping my finger on the pulse and all that.” The typical politics. Both intriguing and deeply boring. “It appears this will be much different.”

good shouldn’t need to tempt us above

[Lilitha]

Lilitha

I watch the city burn, these dreams like ashes float away...

It was quickly becoming second nature for Lilitha to make quiet rounds of the forest, her little girl at her heavily-scarred side as they walked along the border, taking in the scents and sights, miniscule changes to their preferred path. A deer trail forming here, a branch falling there. It had become routine by now, a soothing ritual that helped her keep the land safe and helped her coax her new daughter out of her shell a little.

Singe felt safest with routine, and with her fire-wielding momma at her side to keep her own fire in check if need be. They’d traveled this way enough that she even smiled up at Lilitha and frolicked at her side, dark eyes wide and curious instead of clenched shut in fear. Lilitha smiled back and nuzzled her gently, an encouraging little touch to her withers. In one of her braver moments, Singe even scampered ahead, her little bat wings flaring out to help her balance as she surged forward on clumsy, gangly baby legs.

Oh, Lilitha remembered those days all too well. She’d been an awful lot clumsier than her Singe though, and would certainly have tripped over her own feet by this point at the filly’s age. Maybe Singe was lucky they didn’t share blood, or perhaps she too would’ve been sprawled out on the ground, face-planting in the dirt after a particularly spectacular stumble. Thankfully Lilitha had long since grown into her limbs. She would never be beautiful, covered in scars from the slash down her left eye to burn scars splashed across her chest, claw marks and slashes littering her coat and running in lines along her hind-quarters, but she had at least managed to acquire some grace of movement over the years.

Singe skidded to a halt, eyes wide as she scrambled backward with a soft sound of panic, and Lilitha picked up her pace a little to catch up. Her ears perked forward and she caught the sound of voices up ahead. She caught up to her girl, pressed a soft little kiss to her back, nibbled at her scruff of a baby mane in quiet reassurance, and kept on walking, catching the very end of Magnus’s words.

“I had come up see how Taiga fares in the current climate. Keeping my finger on the pulse and all that.”

Singe clung to her side as she carried on forward, making note of the two strangers and Ruan’s familiar face. She smiled and chimed in with, “Taiga fares quite well. We’re good, strong, stubborn folk, and a fair few of us have dug in our heels to ride out this latest disaster together here at home. My name is Lilitha,” she offered the strangers, having missed the magician’s sneaky game of already knowing the other two’s names. “And this is my daughter, Singe. I’m sorry, I missed the introductions. Where are you gentlemen from?”

...your voice I never heard, only silence.

[Ruan]

the taigan

"Tephra remains strong. I intend to make sure that she stays that way."

Ruan understood that flash in Magnus' eyes, the hard glint of steely determination and solid resolution. They were much the same in that regard. They would do what it took to guard their loved ones and their homes. He nodded in acknowledgement, understanding. It seemed Magnus thus far was still the good man Ruan had believed him to be.

There was a rampant crashing through the quiet morning as another joined them, and he frowned at the unfamiliar man. He seemed to know Magnus though, as they threw banter.

Ruan was only mildly surprised the stranger knew his name, a surprise that settled wary watchfulness in his ice-blue eyes. He was likely not well-known despite leading the Taiga for most of its existence, keeping mostly to himself and his family when not making diplomatic calls that more often seemed to show up at his door before he could venture out to do them himself.

The wariness came from his extensive past with magicians though, having known possibly an abnormal number of the elusive mages throughout his life. Not many of them had been on good terms. So the man's sudden knowledge of his name hit a familiar chord he'd rather not have to be true. He wasn't interested in more torture, emotionally or physically.

He could not confirm it, so it was only a gut reaction to mull over later.

Lilitha and her young girl joined them and he stepped nearer, touching her shoulder lightly in familiarity and blowing a soft, cool breath at baby Singe. He straightened and introduced the only one he knew a name for, feeling a warm sort of pride that she had arrived to meet them. That he could be here with her. She introduced herself or his voice may have held a hint of that pride as he would have done it.

"This is Magnus from Tephra," he rumbled, feeling an odd pull to touch her again. He remained still, though, his eyes settling on the other man and waiting.

[Set]

“I haven’t been spat out yet. Although I’m positive to be second course soon.”

Ah. Set remembers now where he’s seen the well-built stallion before. Magnus had come to Salomea’s aid when one of Niklas’ pets had nearly drowned her, their first night back in Beqanna. Golden eyes dancing, he meets Magnus’ with that lopsided grin, his breathing slowing back to a normal rate. “I daresay you might be a sight more intelligent than you look,” he jokes. He lowers his head and snorts, masking a bit of magic with another violent roll of his sweaty shoulders, calling the wolves off (Niklas’ hellhound has already lost interest); in a careless afterthought, he sends them completely out of Taiga. Set’s mischievous gaze swings back up to catch Magnus’ next words. “I had come up see how Taiga fares in the current climate. Keeping my finger on the pulse and all that. It appears this will be much different.”

One ear twists back, then the other, followed closely by his head and neck to meet mother and child as they step into view. The first thing he notices about her is her eyes – a striking gold not dissimilar to his own, a fierce inner strength nestled in depths he immediately knows few have fathomed. “Taiga fares quite well. We’re good, strong, stubborn folk, and a fair few of us have dug in our heels to ride out this latest disaster together here at home. My name is Lilitha, and this is my daughter, Singe. I’m sorry, I missed the introductions. Where are you gentlemen from?”

"This is Magnus from Tephra," Ruan says, his tone wary but otherwise neutral, in spite of Set’s dirty games. Impressive.

The winter wolf had already moved to one side of Lilitha and in true fashion, Set ignores the immediate questions posed and moves closer to her as well. “Oh love,” his brow furrows in consternation as he walks around her, circling to the opposite side of Ruan in inspection, tut-tutting under his breath. Her black hide is a mass of scars, some obvious claw marks. Drawing back up alongside her, he lets out a loud sigh, facial features relaxing back into that crooked grin. “You are exquisite.” There is no mistaking the honesty in his admiration and he reaches out to brush his nose against her brilliant red mane in the barest of touches. “One day soon, you’ll have to tell me your story.”

“I’m Set,” he abruptly introduces himself, not caring whether they recognize his name or not. It is neither Magnus, Ruan, or Lilitha that he speaks to now, though, but the tiny charge at the scarred mare’s side, her beautiful snakeskin pattern obvious even in the low light of the forest. He slowly lowers his head to give her a reassuring smile and an exaggerated wink. She seems a timid thing, pressed tightly to her mother’s side, and his smile does not waver when he reaches inside himself to let loose just a bit of harmless magic. If it affects her, it will last only as long as he is around, a gentle sense of peace and security.

As if he’s just remembered the adults present, his head swings up. “Once of the Chamber. Now, I’ve yet to find somewhere worth staying.” He misses his home.

He drops his head to Singe's level again. “I like you, so I am going to warn you. You’ll have to watch out for this one here,” he says conspiratorially, widening his eyes for effect as he jerks his poll in Magnus’ direction. “I heard he likes to eat foals for lunch,” he finishes in an exaggerated stage whisper.

[magnus]

desire consumes me like a fire consumes me

Set’s sharp-tongued retort surprises a laugh from Magnus and the sound is short and husky as he shakes his head, finding that he enjoys the trickster magician’s company, although he does not fully trust it. “Spend enough time with me and you may come to realize I am far less intelligent than I pretend.” The self-deprecating humor reaches his eyes, but it’s clear in the way he holds himself and the way his lips quirk that it’s not quite true—that there’s a a confidence that simmers still in the belly of the stallion.

His attention is quickly drawn to the mare of onyx and fire with the foal tucked by her side. If he is surprised by the passion in her voice when she speaks of the kingdom, by the vehement defense of the land, it doesn’t show. Instead, his gold-flecked eyes warm with appreciation for it, his lacerated lips curving in one corner into a crooked smile. “Good, strong, and stubborn seems to be an adequate description from what I’ve seen,” at this, his gaze slides to Ruan, lingering there for a moment as he appraises the other, curious at what lies beneath the wolf-stallion’s interior. “I’m glad to know it remains.”

His own introduction though is cut short as Ruan offers it himself, and he just nods his head. “Magnus indeed.” Once, perhaps, a name that carried more weight than it does now, the meaning behind it morphing over the years. At first, the name of an arrogant, wild prince of the Jungle and the Chamber. Then, the name of a King of the Gates, a stallion nearly bowed beneath the weight of expectations.

The name of a soldier, a guardian, a warmonger.

Now, just the name of a leader of one of many lands doing their best to survive the chaos.

Still, he watches with amusement at Set’s bald admiration of the woman, his gaze once again slipping to Ruan, curious as to how the stallion would handle such unabashed flirting before him. The wolfish stallion didn’t strike him as a prude, but neither did he strike him as one to appreciate such things.

When Set warns the foal of himself, he laughs, rolling his eyes.

“Old age addles the brain,” he whispers, eyes sparking as he looks to the colt. “For Set is confusing me with him once again.” His mouth curves into a good-natured smile. He winks and then falls quiet, finding that the meeting was far different than he had anticipated and yet, in many ways, far better.

good shouldn’t need to tempt us above

[Lilitha]

Lilitha

I watch the city burn, these dreams like ashes float away...

The corner of Lilitha’s mouth softened in a hint of a smile and she leaned lightly into his touch, brushed her muzzle against the side of his neck as he lowered his head to greet Singe. Who huffed out a little breath back and bumped her nose against his to say hello herself. Familiar warmth bloomed in her chest and she nuzzled her girl again, smiled at Magnus in response to his introduction--and then.

Well.

She frowned at the stallion Ruan hadn’t introduced her to, following him with puzzled gold eyes as he walked around her, clearly inspecting her body, noticing the scars that littered her skin, but his reaction was nothing like she expected. Instead of cringing away from her or wrinkling his nose in disgust, he crooned admiration and brushed his nose against her hair. And she...had absolutely no idea how to react to that. “I...uuhh? Thank you?” Caught utterly off guard, she stared at him, head tilting just a little, any grace or composure she’d had knocked askew by his compliment. “O...I mean, okay, if you want? There’s not much to tell, really.”

She was still reeling when he lowered his head to talk to Singe, who at first shied back farther into her chest. Clearly Set had some kind of impressive charm though, because it didn’t take the little filly long to relax and reach out to breathe in his scent, membranous wings rustling against her back as tension melted from her spine. And instead of shrinking back from Magnus in fear like Lilitha might’ve expected, she glanced back and forth between the two stallions, her little brow furrowing. Back and forth again, and then she tilted her head back to peek up at her momma and ask with a quiet little whisper, “Playing?”

Lilitha smiled and nodded, brushing her lips against Singe’s forehead. “Yeah, baby, they’re playing.”

Singe peeked back and forth between them one more time and then lit up with a bright little baby smile, the first one Lilitha had seen on her face when there were strangers around. A word and a smile? Damn. Lilitha stroked her hair, fussing over her scruffy little mane.

“Well, gentleman, cannibals or no, welcome to Taiga. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Magnus, I hope Tephra fares well. Set, if you’re in search of a place to settle, perhaps we could show you around? If Taiga isn’t to your liking, we won’t take any offense, will we, baby?” she said, her voice softening as she directed the second half of that sentence to Singe. “But if it feels like the right place for you, there’s plenty of room in this lovely forest.”

Singe rustled her wings again and took a hesitant little step forward, bright green eyes wide as she reached out to sniff at Set. “Could maybe play with me?” she asked softly, voice just a squeak above a whisper. But using her voice at all was progress, and Lilitha melted a little at the hope that flared to life in her chest. See, baby girl? Don’t gotta be scared of your voice. It’s gonna be okay.

...your voice I never heard, only silence.