"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
He’d seen the twins, at least. Little Hellbane and Mortal, though he’s not sure little is the appropriate term for them. They were both thick things, taking after their father. It almost makes him wonder how they fit inside of his sister … but those thoughts don’t sit easily in his mind. Dacia seems happy enough anyways now that she’s procured exactly what she’s wanted for so long now. He supposes he’ll have to talk to Killdare now that they’re technically related. Small world.
The stallion takes his time in journeying to the Dale. He’s never seen it before but that’s because he’s never had an inclination to visit. What was out there but empty hills and a few horses? The Dale was neutral territory, nothing of concern or interest for him until this point. He’d challenged the silver mare because they’d been equally matched as far as traits go, but she’d narrowly come out with a victory. He’d been easy on her. Now here he was, coming to a rest at the borders of their kingdom to meet with her on rather friendly terms.
Or so he thought.
What Lupei doesn’t know is that this place is as much a part of him as any other, perhaps even more so. The heart he’d taken was tied to this land, to its rulers, to its history and future. The blood of his enemy still called this place home and breathed for revenge. For the first time in his life, Lupei is the lamb in the wolves den.
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
The scent hits him like a wall. The bricks tumble down and blocks any glimmer of light or thought. Suddenly Tiphon is on alert, his muscles quivering. How does he know it? How is it triggering him like this?
A breath catches in his throat as he tries hard to remember, but it’s just beyond his reach. The answer is there, hovering just above him, but he can’t quite grasp it. For a long moment Tiphon stands in the embrace of the Dale and in the sunlight. What consumed him were his children, namely his two undead children, but they’ve slipped into the darkness of his mind as the scent overwhelms him. It’s a thorn in his side that he lingers with until his curiosity can no longer be reined in. After determining the direction from which the scent drifted Tiphon’s wings sprout from his shoulder blades. Such large and magnificent things they are that it takes but two sweeps before he has caught enough wind to ascend into the azure sky. As much as he’d enjoy soaring with the clouds and biding his time there is an eagerness eating away at him. There is a bud of anger blooming in his stomach.
With his urgency chiseling away at time it doesn’t take long for Tiphon to reach the stranger. His altitude drops with a simple tilt of his body that spirals him toward the green grass below. The foreigner almost camouflages with the birds-eye view of the kingdom but with attuned precision he lands directly in front of him. Rather than folding his wings they instead dissipate into nothingness leaving the sentinel almost normal – almost. ”What brings you to the Dale?” His voice is stone, hardened by years of mistrusting strangers. Memories of Dalean invaders flash before his eyes, but it shimmers away as he again tries to think of where he may have seen or met this stallion. Taking a slow step forward and narrowing his eyes, Tiphon asks, ”Have we met?” They must have if this green stallion elicits so much distaste, so much anger, in him.
Victory tastes sweet on her tongue for only a moment before it slides down her throat.
Her face burns, both figuratively and literally, after the battle. Because she had no suspicions in the heat of his fiery circle, how could she? But on his last attack, when he’d become a beast with fangs that glistened blue from the burning wall and eyes that shone like the moon, there couldn’t be any doubt. What had killed Tiberios? Not only a horse, because it had carved his heart from him methodically, purposefully. Not only an animal, because it hadn’t consumed all of him; because he’d been fractured and slit like ribbons but not completely engulfed. It had been both beast and horse and fire all in one. A murderous trinity coalesced into a single skin.
The mystery of it had nearly killed her before. The knowledge that her burnt man had been brutally savaged by something had carved a part of her heart out. She didn’t think she’d survive it, this halving of her sorrowful organ. But with time (with reuniting with the twins and Ramiel and Tiphon), she’d felt herself warming to the idea of living again. She felt her heart (the good half, as divided as Tiberios’ skin had been after it burned) glowing under the watchful eyes of her family. She could go on without him. She didn’t want to go on without him, but she could.
And then Lupei had revealed himself.
A part of her wonders if he had known that he was challenging the widow. Was it an extension of his malice? Was the murder planned all along, rather than the happenstance she always believed it to be? Surely, he hadn’t planned to lose, at least. Was he hoping to continue his streak once he brought her back to the Chamber, vulnerable and unprotected by the golden ring of her family? Had she thwarted him and saved her own life unknowingly by winning the challenge?
Talulah has too little time to dwell on her next move when she finally makes it back to the Dale. She licks her wounds and births her undead daughter, and by the time he upholds his end of the bargain, she realizes she hasn’t even told Tiphon. They have no plan. Leaving Elaria and strict instructions to stay behind with Ramiel, the metal mare follows the angel’s quick pace. He doesn’t know what awaits him at the borders (does he?) and she has no way to tell him beforehand. She does know what Tiberios’ death did to him, though. What will happen when he realizes the murderer stands before him? How will I stop him from killing him? Will I stop him at all?
“Lupei.” She is breathless when she reaches them, panic and uncertainty rising within her. Tiphon is already on the offensive, and while she would normally appreciate his instinctual need to protect, she now tries to still him with a touch of her muzzle to his shoulder. He doesn’t know what he’s facing. “Tiphon, this is the…man who challenged me and lost.” The silver mare looks at Lupei pointedly on her last word. She wonders why he would willingly walk into the home of his victim if he knew; he must not be aware. It doesn’t change anything to learn of his ignorance. It doesn’t push a repaired half of her heart back into her chest. “He’s also a killer. Aren’t you?” She wants him to say it. She wants Tiphon to strike him down where he stands when he does.
Sometimes, when he sleeps near the heart of the chamber, he dreams of fire. Writhing, licking against his skin until it consumes him and renders him into nothingness. What is left behind is a hard, mottled lump of coal-like substance. He knows what the dreams are about when he wakes; knows what the pitted, ebony rock is. They would too. Anyone could. It’s written in his eyes and the subtle curve of his lips when the pale white stallion takes a step forward. Lupei is a cocky bastard, but that inbred monster of an ego hasn’t come from nothing. He tilts his head at the last question, blinking softly against the glare of those unmistakeable golden markings - the same color he’d only seen one other time in his life. “I think I’d remember someone like you.” The hairless oddity comments carefully.
The games begun and his audience isn’t even aware of it yet. Here they are - murderer and perhaps distant relation, brought together by circumstance. Lupei wonders how he’ll take the news. The lion tattoo on his shoulder itches uncontrollably and the brightly colored stallion makes as if to open his lips, but he’s interrupted. Who else but Talulah would interject? She’s struggling for air and the wolf of the Chamber looks her over as she speaks, smiling easily when she introduces him to Tiphon as the loser. She hides her own injuries well behind that proud statement, doesn’t she? If she likes, he’d be more than happy to let her have another dance with the flame.
Yet she just can’t keep her mouth shut.
When the last question slips from her lips and hangs between the three of them, Lupei’s smile fades into a hard line. So … they were going to sacrifice the queen early on into the battle, it would seem. Bold move, metal girl. “Oh yes.” Lupei purrs, the words coming as naturally as conversation about the weather, or the scenery. “Many times over.” He chuckles, wondering how she’ll swallow that pill. He’d been the harbinger of death on several occasions outside of the hunt. In wolf form? The bodies lose count. There was always a wandering soul or elderly, forgotten creature somewhere here that Beqanna had let fall between the cracks who served their purpose for him adequately. It’s one thing to kill an animal - another to take a sentient being’s life. Horses here just tended to linger on the one’s who seemed to matter to them, that’s all.
“I wasn’t aware that I’d come to stand trial for something …” Lupei says, challenging her as the acid leaks into his tone. Even if he was guilty of some transgression against these two, it was far beyond their reach to do something about it. It had been years since the shifter had thought of that day on the beach and nothing (not even magic) could bring that flayed horse back now. His eyes slide carefully to the porcelain male, waiting quietly for the next turn. “Do it.” He thinks, nerves standing on end, “I’ll burn this whole damn kingdom and no one will be left to sift through the ashes.”
