"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
Smoke billows out to contrast in gray curtains against the white of the daylit sky. Fauna blooms alongside the riverbed where Adria swims, head submerged, and she looks up to marvel at the way the green tendrils dip into the stream as she passes them by. Tephra is lovely at the mouth of the sea, waters that are warm against her scales in a way she appreciates, but the sulfur is thick and so aquatic animals are scarce and primitive.
She rises, stepping out from water that is the same shade of blue as a shadow, and onto a red shoreline littered here and there with small, pitted rocks. Her yellow eyes see green-capped hills, cloaked by swaths of humid fog like many veiled women; all curves and beauty. Carpets of lush grass sway when she passes over them, drinking the liquid that trails off her skin and adding to the already water-heavy air. She likes it. Loves the way it feels like swimming though she’s not underwater.
But she’s not here to pass the time idly admiring the scenery, no. She’s here to find her liege, the sovereign of this place which would also make them the protectorate of her and her daughter Eva, along with the unborn flutter of life that swells inside her still-growing belly. Ischia was a quiet place, a private place near and dear to her, but it couldn’t stay that way if she lived like her mother and chose to ignore the way Beqanna worked.
Her safety was dependant on those more powerful in the eyes of her peers, and with gentle determination she sets out across these verdant pastures in search of whomever that may be.
Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me
Magnus had spent his reign walking the border of Tephra often, and the paths surrounding the volcanic land are worn with the beat of his hooves—but Leliana does not rely on such things. Instead, she sends out regular ripples of her power, subconsciously more often than not, and lets it simmer along the borders she knows so well, the borders that she has walked so often as a girl. The land, for now, remains mostly quiet, and for the most part, those tiny sonic waves return to her without hitting a source.
Until, that is, they don’t.
She lifts her head slowly, angling her glowing golden eyes to the waters, lips pressing together in thought. She can feel the form of the newcomer, something both of the land and the water; it piques her interest.
Enough that she flares her wings and takes to the skies, the shadow of her form dappling the lush ground underneath as she shoots across the expanse of land with more speed than she ever thought possible. When she lands before the brightly colored mare, she does so delicately, her feathered feet touching down without a noise. She draws her limbs underneath her, drawing her wings close, and studies the other.
“You were looking for me,” she states simply, her lips remaining neutral but the illusion of a smile flirting around the edges of her solemn mouth all the same. “Not that you knew you were, of course.” The wind picks up slightly, sea breeze playing with the edges of her crimson mane, the flower petals dancing. She is as vibrant as any of the volcanic flowers rooted in the ash and lush soil, but there remains a calmness to her features—a heaviness that has been there since birth but has grown increasingly heavy with time.
“My name is Leliana. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Adria of the sea.”
A shudder of grass, green waves that quiver and draw Adria’s eye down in curiosity, and when she looks up again delicate hooves are touching the earth and eyes like fire are staring at her, staring into her so hard and so focused that it’s hard to maintain contact even though she does. Sweet Adria does, because so much depends on her doing so.
The mare speaks and only then does the Nereid avert her ochre stare. It falls in reverence to a being ten times more beautiful, a thousand times more powerful, and infinitely more knowledgeable though Leliana explains this to her. It’s polite, but unnecessary. Anyone could feel the truth of it. “Surely the pleasure is mine.” Adria replies, her usual common tongue forgotten so she speaks wholly in the tongue of an islander. Queen Leliana would need no translation nor would she hear the words in another language. Adria is practically sure of it.
The seamare must be careful now, so careful! Tender so as not offend but strong so as not to seem weak, though she already senses that her ruler perhaps knows everything behind her visit. Flowers fall to the earth at the volcanic mare’s feet, where the downcast head of a water horse can see them, and the silence grows for a few seconds.
“My bloodline has always run through the waters of this kingdom. I would pledge myself to you and ask only this,” Adria requests, feeling her ancestors cry out for justice in her bones, (Circinae hear me, Nyxa give me strength!) “That Ischia become a herdland of refuge in Tephra’s name, and that it respectfully be returned to my guardianship.” She finishes, heart thundering in her chest.
Her head rises so that Leliana can see the truth. Three generations of females who have kept watch over the Island, wanted or not, and soon (as the life within her kicks hopefully) a fourth.
Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me
@[Leliana] The new rules require officer permission, but I figured in-game she could ask before sending off the official request OOC - depending on Leliana's reply of course.
Adria tastes of the island; it is something in the sound of her accent, in the honey richness of the words that fall from her tongue. There is a beautiful in the other—a shyness, perhaps—that draws her eye, that leaves her lingering, studying the Nereid with a thoughtful eye. She is not used to others looking at her. In so much of her life, she has been the quiet sister. She has been the one who observed from the side. She was the calm waters to her sister’s raging oceans. She healed and helped, but always in the background.
Now, others stare or avert their gaze and both are unsettling.
That is, they would be if Leliana was capable of feeling unsettled.
Instead, she merely observes with that apathetic way, her lips pressing together in thought. “I would not ask that you pledge yourself to me,” she finally responds, her voice as calm as the rivers that wind through the Tephran soil. “Only that you pledge yourself to what is good and kind.” These are still the concepts that she can understand, that she can clutch close to her breast, even if they feel so far.
But she is not just a healer any longer.
She is a Queen, and a magician, and she has breathed the word war—as just as the cause may be—into the Beqanna realm. So she cannot stand aside when such matters are brought to her doorstep. Instead, she thinks on what she has already thought on, what she has used her magic to find out, and she finds the gaze of the water-woman once more. “Isobell has done me no offense, but she is also the full sister to Castile, and I do not trust her allegiance or motives.” She drops her chin slightly in thought.
“You have my support in taking your homeland, and you have my protection should you ever need it.”
A strange thing to say for a woman who has never once been capable of protecting those things that she loved (healing, yes, but protecting? preventing the harm in the first place? never.) But now she can.
She can, and she fully intends to wield it to see women such as the one before her shielded.
If Leliana is capable of seeing through to the deepest parts of those around her, then her words must come from a place already explored. Adria was willing, incredibly willing to pledge her (not Eva, not her unborn) services to Tephra because she felt it was expected, but doubt had lingered in the corners of her mind over such a thing. She doesn’t make herself out to be a fighter, yet power lies within her grasp. Her Queen must be aware, when she stares with molten curiosity back into the open face of her subject, that not one but two Nereids residing offshore could be vital.
Still, Adria fears that same power being used against her will. Leliana… she is a mare capable of doing that.
The seahorse’s exhale is soft yet noticeable. What the Tephran ruler asks is something much more agreeable and therefore, easier to morally uphold. After all, Adria herself is an innate believer in the good of all Beqanna, and the fact that the Plague is cured despite the Dark God’s will is all the more proof of such a notion.
A velvet smile replaces the tension, softening her already sweet nature and between them, the surrounding area seems brighter and more lovely for it. Cautiously, Adria blinks and assess her new Queen with an open mind and an appreciative heart. Where once she saw something to be feared (she’s not stupid, though; Leliana is fearsome) now she sees an alluring strength. A source of infallible light that will draw others to this place.
She feels warmed. Wholesome.
Until there’s mention of Castile. “A paltry offer, lady - but I would extend the same protection to you and all of Tephra. I would be quite, what’s the word? Capable if the need arose.” She tongues, switching to common language for the necessity of choosing a correct term. A genuine smile flashes brightly across her face; a dash of lightning like a storm over the sea: lovely, deadly. “Like you, though, I would prefer to understand what it is I protect. You mention Isobell, sister of one called Castile.”
Her head shifts imperceptibly, causing the undulating waves of her mane to shiver in response. “Isobell must be Ischia’s last protector but her brother… I know the name to be associated with Loess. The reason for concern escapes me.”
Her last home had been Hyaline. A good home, an earnest place to settle and grow, but not one that ever did much after her dual leaders moved further East to Silver Cove. It shames her to openly admit that her knowledge of Kingdom relations is weak, however if there was ever a time for changing that it would be now. With Leliana’s guidance and help Adria is determined, driven to be an integral part of something larger than herself and that had begun the moment her Queen gave verbal support. “Please explain.” She requests, feeling much more at ease having put her first task behind them.
Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me
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