"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
Everything blurs together, unable to differentiate reality and his nightmares. His nightmares that have come to life thanks to Carnage. He can’t recall if Magnus is really dead, dying with hate spitting from his bloody mouth. A death he had caused. He knows that some of it is real for his right eye is gone, gone forever. It’s still raw and bloody, still sears with agonizing pain. His flank aches where the magic man had carved his symbol into his flesh, a scabbing Ursa Major constellation to remind him of the ice, of him, and the bear. The bear, it was the newest starring villain in his dream. Chernobyl and the polar bear seemed to team up and torture him. He wonders if he will ever sleep again. But then he still doesn’t know the magic the Dark God left in his system, the new power he had acquired when he had lost his eye.
Slowly he drags his beaten and broken body into the Gates. Smoke stings his nostrils, pollution covering the sky. His good gold flecked eye is dull but brightens as he starts to become aware of his surroundings. There is screaming and sobbing in the distance. Slowly, for he is still so tender and painful everywhere, he limps towards the heart of the kingdom. With his good eye, he witnesses chaos. The Mother Tree is black and charred, leaves burning. The few remaining horses look panicked and dumbstruck. All he can do is stand there and stare. Was this another hell for him to prove himself in? Was this another one of Carnage’s little tricks? Another form of torture. He can’t tell but he doesn’t put it past him. Warily he slowly draws closer, a mangled and mutilated image of the handsome stallion he had once been.
09-25-2015, 08:35 PM (This post was last modified: 09-30-2015, 12:20 AM by Kronk.)
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk didn’t know what to do with himself. He just kept circling the tree, looking for any living piece to give himself some hope. He had come to the Gates, looking to make a difference, looking to protect it and guard it, and instead, he had let it burn down around him. The large stallion didn’t know what to do, and had no idea how to go about making amends. Logically, Kronk knew he couldn’t have stopped this attack. The few handfuls of Gates horses that reminded were no match for the magical force that attacked their home.
But still, that answer just wasn’t good enough.
Some would say that he was punishing himself. Kronk would say that he deserved it. But still, moping would do him no good. It was a reaction of the lazy, to decide something was futile and give up.
Kronk needed something to distract himself from the hollowness in his soul. He needed something to latch on to so he wouldn’t see the flames whenever he closed his eyes. The flaxen stallion provided that. Kronk looked at him in puzzlement for a moment, but soon his eyes widened. They had met before.
Kronk picked up a trot and made his way to the other man’s side. He stopped near him and called a greeting.
“Ledger! Hey, what happened to you, man?” Kronk took in the other stallion’s appearance and sobered. This wasn’t some mock battle gone awry. Kronk’s eyes knitted in concern.
“You look worse every time I see you.” He didn’t mean to sound insensitive, it was just undeniable true. First it was the sleepy blue creature and now this? He couldn’t be certain but it seemed like Ledger may to into more than he could handle.
In a few short minutes, the world had changed, shifted irrevocably. A place that had previously felt like a sanctuary now felt like a graveyard full of ghosts. Full of the shattered pieces of harmony and innocence. At least there had been no casualties. But when the tree had been poisoned and burned and those thick branches had wilted, the roots buckling and heaving beneath their feet, Ilka had felt the poison seeping into her heart. Her chest felt heavy with it now, cold, as the poison buried itself in the pit of her chest and bled black into her veins. She could feel it there, the doubt, and it burned like ash beneath her skin.
Worse had been Erebor, her cousin, and the betrayal she had felt when their eyes meet for just a brief, meaningless second in time. He had disappeared then, abruptly, impossibly, and it was a sense of uneasy relief that echoed within the trembling of her bones. Worse still was the scent of the Chamber on her skin, faint and faded now, but buried there tauntingly beneath the scent of grass and earth and rain. It felt like treachery.
When Ledger appears at the edge of the clearing it draws her attention immediately. He seems vaguely familiar, like she’s seen him before, but it isn’t until the second (who she had seen fighting for the Gates in the ashy chaos) approaches him without intensity that she realizes she had seen him in passing here and not at the Chamber. For a moment she tenses, indecision wrapping cold fingers around the ache of her heart, but something pulls her towards them. A kinship she needs so desperately in the wake of disaster.
She reaches them quickly and presses her nose briefly to Kronk’s shoulder in quiet greeting. He smells like ash and sweat and there are charred scuffs of soot smeared against the chestnut and white. When her eyes lift to Ledger’s, a brown so pale they’re nearly gold, she flinches without meaning to. The destruction there is different than what she had witnessed on some of the other horses. The raw red lines stretched over his empty socket reminded her of claw marks. Reflexively she wants to ask if he’s alright, but the question fades before it even reaches her lips. Of course he isn’t, none of them are.
So when Kronk asks his questions, Ilka remains silent, those brown eyes soft and wide beneath a furrowed brow. It was hard for her to find words right now, to say something when the weight of what had happened felt like a crushing burden heaped on her shoulders. But as the silence stretches and the ache in her chest deepens, a question comes unbidden in a voice barely louder than a whisper, “Will you be alright?”.
09-29-2015, 08:05 PM (This post was last modified: 09-29-2015, 09:57 PM by Ledger.)
I can see for miles, miles, miles
There’s a sick dripping like rain hitting the ground but when he looks down he sees red spots staining the snow at his feet. It’s not rain but his own blood that’s making the mess on the floor. His stomach churns, the open wound of his missing eye throbbing with a new excruciating pain. His good eye closes, the world stops spinning when it’s closed and he can exhale deeply as he tries to keep a grip on this new reality. The smoke is assaulting his senses, burning his lungs and making his eye water. Unwillingly he opens it again and there is Kronk, looking somewhat apprehensively at him. Words come out but they sound far away and don’t register. A glazed expression has taken over, there’s a dull ringing in his ears now as he looks towards the destruction in the distance. ”What happened here?” He asks stupidly, unaware that Kronk had been asking the same thing about him.
A female has joined Kronk’s side and when she flinches at the sight of him, he is jerked back into the present and the pain momentarily loses it’s hold on him. The gold flecks of his eye flash with sudden hurt and rejection and the realization that this was now going to be his life. Forever will he be looked at with pity or revulsion. And it’s a cold hard truth that makes his blood icy, that he now understand the pain he had caused Adaline the first time he had looked at her in much the same way. In the back of his mind he thinks that he needs to find her and apologize. Truly apologize for he hadn’t understood before but now he does. For he’s a freak too. An abomination just as much as she thought she was.
The claw marks along his neck throb as ash is thrown into the open wounds, thanks to a passing gust of wind. He winces and looks away from Ilka’s concerned gaze. A concerned look from two beautiful pale brown eyes. He is sickened by his sudden jealousy of her and Kronk and all those who still had both eyes to see. Immediately he is swamped with new guilt, at least he could still see at all. His world was not one of complete darkness. The softness of her voice breaks the silent spell he had been under and his voice is raw and hoarse from the hours he had spent screaming in the cave. ”No…. No I don’t think I will be.” It’s pure honesty for his whole life has been nothing but bad luck. Death and destruction had followed him since the moment he slipped free from his mother’s womb and now he knows that it shall always be that way. For even he had loosened his Midas touch here, the Gates had suffered while he was tortured below ground and he is sure that his mere presence was enough to cause it.
So badly he wants to fall to the ground and die. Death would be a gift at this point. Carnage won’t let him have that either, something keeps him alive despite the amount of blood he has lost. He stumbles slightly and shakily regains his footing as he asks again, coughing against the soot in the air. ”What happened?”
She saw the change in his expression as clear as night became day. In one moment he had been distant and vague, drifting in his thoughts, lost in the bowels of time. But her gasp had called him back in the worst of ways. It was clear in the way his face changed that the small sound that had fallen unbidden from her mouth hurt more than the weeping scars across his eye and along his neck. She felt her heart crumble to dust within the confines of her aching chest. It hadn’t been the ugliness of his wounds or the gaping crater where she guessed an eye used to sit. It was the fact that he hadn’t come from the fray, hadn’t worn a single piece of ash on that familiar red skin. She hadn’t expected the wounds, hadn’t expected the defeat echoing in his face or the exhaustion that hung like flesh from his bones.
And before she had time to consider herself, to realize that her closeness may be unwelcome in the wake of these violent injuries, she is pushing carefully past Kronk to press her nose gently to the curve of Ledgers jaw. “No.” She tells him and those pale brown eyes darken unwaveringly beneath the furrow of her brow. Her voice softens to a whisper so that Kronk won’t hear – and somehow this feels important. “I hadn’t realized you were hurt. I’ve never seen this before. Any of this.” She means his injuries, the hungry ghost in his eyes, the wreckage of a peaceful kingdom. Blood.
Her eyes close for a moment as her lips ghost gently across an unexposed part of his now ashy neck. “I’m sorry I’m no good at any of this.”
09-29-2015, 11:35 PM (This post was last modified: 09-30-2015, 12:18 AM by Ledger.)
I can see for miles, miles, miles
How familiar this feels. He remembers the guilt he had felt when Adaline had seen the shock of her appearance flicker across his face for the first time and it had sickened him instantly. Now the tables had been turned though and this beautiful creature was the one looking at him with dismay. However she does something he doesn’t expect. Her muzzle is against his jaw and he is flooded with so many emotions. How long has he yearned to be touched or caressed by another? It also brings back the raw memories of torture even though her touch is soft and gentle. He shudders against her and finds that his skin, everywhere, is quivering. With a piercing whinny, new pain explodes along every inch of his body as it tears apart and rebuilds itself into something new. Muscle and sinew fold and collapse then spring into new growth as he begins to expand and shift.
He can’t comprehend what is happening to him, the pain is too much. He whinnies again but this time a loud roar erupts from deep within his chest. His hooves have turned to claws, his body large and coated with white fur. He has become the thing that haunts his nightmare, the polar bear that took his eye. The power is so new and it overwhelms him, he is unable to control the rage that boils though his heated blood. His front paw swipes out, lashing out, in his frustration and pain. He doesn’t realize that it makes contact with her.
What is happening to me? Fear takes hold of him and he roars and shakes his massive head, stumbling slightly at the effort. Unable to walk with these new paws and he stumbles and falls heavily into the snow. The impact is enough to make him shift back to his normal self and he finds himself sprawled in the snow. For a moment he lays there, the coldness easing the pain of his neck and face wounds. It’s the cry of pain that makes him roll to his knees and when he looks at her, he is filled with shame and horror. ”I’m so sorry.” He exclaims, trying to get up and failing miserably. ”I don’t know what happened.” Even more confused than before, the pain worse than before. He retches slightly, bile filling his throat. What had he become? What had Carnage turned him into? Or maybe he was going mad once and for all.
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
The past season left Kronk in a daze. He didn’t know what to do with himself. Each breath he takes brings with it a sense of guilt, both for the destruction of his home and for his grief. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much, he hadn’t been prepared for the emptiness that the fire would leave in its wake.
He was so new to the Gates. What right did he have to grieve?
And yet he did, in small, personal ways. He didn’t pretend to understand what the others were going through, but he felt the wrench in his soul whether he deserved to or not. And yet, he didn’t understand what was happening to Ledger. Not even in the small way he understood the Gates did he understand the other stallion’s pain.
He seemed so hurt, his spirit so wounded. This had not happened in the attack, unless something had gone unseen by Kronk? It was possible, of course. There had been so much confusion, so much shouting, nobody could keep an eye on everything. And yet, that didn’t seem right. Kronk wasn’t sure how he knew, but he felt that this was Ledger’s private grief.
Kronk only wished he could help him shoulder the burden. That was what he had always wanted, after all, a home and all that entailed. But still, he is not the best suited to comforting words. He was happy when Ilka pushed past him, and wished her to find the words that he could not. Yet, Kronk could still do something, he could report on the attack.
“It was the Chamber.” He said quietly, as if he didn’t want to remind the burned wreckage of the tree.
“They attacked with a small force, but they had a good deal of power among them. We were saved by…someone, a magician most likely, but nobody really knows.” Kronk swallowed hard. It was hard for him to admit, harder for him to remember. They had needed saving. They had been helpless.
Kronk hung his head and didn’t look back up for a long time. He stood like a knight standing vigil on the grief. But, his head jerked up at Ledger’s whinny. He looked at the other stallion carefully.
“Ledger?” He asked slowly, carefully. He felt something on the horizon, and Kronk swallowed nervously. A second latter the stallion whinnied again, but this time it ended in a roar.
“Get back!” Kronk screamed at Ilka, but it was too late. The flaxen stallion was gone, replaced by a massive bear. Kronk’s eyes went wide as saucers, white rimmed and panicked. He swallowed back his instinctual urge to flee and skittered forward in nervous steps, wanting to reach the mare but knowing he was powerless to stop the bear.
Yet, already the creature was toddling, flailing its head and feet. Kronk rushed to Ilka’s side. He could do nothing but take the blow in her place, should another one come. But, it is not necessary. The bear that had been Ledger crashed to the ground and began to change back. The guilt and sorrow on the other man’s face made Kronk’s heart hurt.
He shook his head wearily. And gently nosed at Ilka, looking for injuries. He looked over his shoulder at Ledger.
“You should rest, brother.” They perhaps, did not know each other well enough for such familiarities, and yet Kronk felt like he should say it. He wanted Ledger to know that he was not alone, that they would figure this all out, that the Gates would find a way to rebuild.
Yet, deep in his heart, he is not sure if it is true.
Even if the urgent quivering of his bright chestnut skin hadn’t been enough to prickle her wariness, the shrill sound that bellowed from his chest should have been. And yet time unraveled so quickly, like a string pulled on a woven tapestry, pulled hard just once but it was enough to unravel the whole thing. She stumbles back a step, or maybe he had, but there is suddenly a space between them where there hadn’t been before. And when conscious thought had a chance to peel back the fog of incredulity at the horse-turned-bear creature standing before, she stumbled back further.
Kronk shouts just as the bear rocks forward with a massive, outstretched paw. It takes a moment for the sensation of shock to pass, but then she can feel the pain of the claws where they found purchase within the soft skin of her narrow chest. She doesn’t cry out, doesn’t make a sound as she stumbles backward with Kronk tucked defensively against her shoulder. Nor does she notice when the bear falls back, teetering, and then shifts back into the chestnut stallion with the sad, haunted eyes.
With her pulse pounding frantically in her ears and the puckered gashes across her chest dripping red tears into the snow, she can only brace herself tremblingly against Kronk’s strong shoulder. It takes a moment for her to remember herself, but when she does those pale brown eyes lift quickly to find Ledger. The anguish in his face breaks her. Though the ache in her chest and the residual fear clamoring in her bones is quickly draining her energy, her face remains painfully soft.
“If you wanted my heart, you only needed to ask.” She says, wincing at the way her torn skin pulls when she gestures to the gashes buried in her chest. There is a light in her eyes, though it fades with each passing heartbeat, every new trickle of red in the snow, and a smile on her face that holds the hint of a grimace just beneath the surface.
She’s trying to joke with him, trying to reassure him as she bleeds openly into the snow. Bleeding from the wounds he had caused. It only makes him feel worse although he tries to weakly smile at her and fails miserably. Kronk urges him to rest and he knows he should but the thought of sleep and dreams fills him with dread. He knows what awaits him in the dream world and he fears it more then he fears the pain and confusion of his new situation. ”I’m sorry.” He repeats dully again as he finally finds his feet and shakily stands up. ”I’m a danger to you all.” He can’t stay here, not when he is unstable. If this world wasn’t made up by Carnage to taunt him and abuse him, then they weren’t safe. He couldn’t let another incident like what happened to Ilka happen again. Not till he could figure out what was wrong with him and how to stop it.
Kronk’s words slowly come back to him, about what had happened to the Gates. The Chamber, it was always the Chamber. It only strengthens his resolve that he needs to leave. If the Chamber found out about the Gates unstable shifter, who knows what they would do to play it to their advantage. ”I should leave.” He burns with shame and pain and the gold flecks dull in the depths of his brown eye as he looks at Ilka, the beautiful mare that he has inflicted with nothing but pain. ”I will never hurt you again.”
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
His head was beginning to hurt. His whole body hurt. His soul hurt. He can’t stand to look at Ledger, but he does, he makes himself, and his eyes are kind. It is not his fault. Whatever this is, it is not his fault.
Kronk knows a little of blame. He is not a forgiving man, but where there is no fault to be laid, there is no blame. Ledger, Kronk is sure of it, does not deserve this, just as Ilka doesn’t. Yet there is the matter of Ilka, there is the matter of her torn skin.
The stallion bent to inspect the wounds on her chest. There is no time for please and may I. He just did it, and hoped she would not be offended. As far as Kronk was concerned, this was war. There was no time for pleasantries in war. If pressed, he wouldn’t be sure who they were fighting. He just knew it was not Ledger.
But, if not Ledger, then who?
Again the headache. Kronk sighed and tried to focus on Ilka’s wounds. They were ugly, and certainly brutal, but he didn’t think she would bleed out. At least he hoped not. He was certain that there was nothing he could do for her. If it was very bad they may have to take her to the Falls, and beg use of their healing waters. Kronk hoped it would not come to that. They would need to find someone with greater connections then him. He had no favors to call in with Tiberios. He looked back up at Ilka.
“How do you feel? If you need a healing, we should leave now.” If the wounds were bad enough, then they had no time to waste. He hoped she would have a better understanding of what she needed than Kronk could surmise.
Kronk was already trying to figure out the fastest way to the falls when Ledger spoke. The tobiano stallion felt his heart fracture again. He looked at the other man, long and hard. Kronk wasn’t cruel, he didn’t want Ledger to leave, to be alone, but what choice did they have? What if he killed someone? How could Ledger live with himself? How could Kronk, knowing that he let it happen? After a very long moment, Kronk spoke.
“Where would you go?” He didn’t say he should go yet, but neither did he say he should stay. Ledger shouldn’t be alone, but neither should be be allowed to hurt anyone else. As unwillingly as it happened, as much as he didn’t want to, it couldn’t happen again.
