they promised that dreams come true

Ori has been shaped by many people in her life, though rarely in a good way. All but Pteron, who taught her to embrace the sky and the wings on her back. There is little else in her life that has stuck with her except this. Her family comes and goes, and she would say her friends come and go as well but she’s never really had any of those. Lands come and go, and home, though she has lived in a few places, has only ever been Silver Cove for her, though she has not been back to see it’s shores for so long now. The point being simply that most of Ori’s life has been of a rather transient nature, except for this one lesson.

Oh, she does love to fly. The weather is threatening rain and so, with the morning sky still clear enough, this is where she finds herself. If she would be grounded later, she might as well enjoy some time in the air now. Her flight brings her over the common lands, as it often does, for she finds herself strolling these lands far more than any “home”. From the sky she can see all those belong, often keeping close enough to the earth that they are more than just little dots. She can catch colors and movement, can see who or what might be in the meadow or strolling along the river. She glides along this way, watching as others live a life she’s never fully grasped how to live. Perhaps it is better this way, though it doesn’t feel like it.

Eventually, a stallion moving at a full gallop catches her eye as he races into the meadow. When he comes to a stop she can see him better, a rather handsome stallion, lilac in color with a blue blaze down his face. The idea that he is handsome is not a flirtatious thing for Ori, but rather just the way she sees the world. She paints her own worlds and so she sees beauty in most things, and he is no exception. He is younger, though she cannot tell how many years younger than she is. Honestly, Ori has never stopped feeling like a child, even if her body no longer is one.

It seems that he may be looking for some company though, and he’s caught her attention enough that she lands not too far off, tucking her wings to her side as she does so. She makes her way forward with a friendly nicker and a soft smile. ”Would you care for some company?” she asks, voice soft and pleasant. There’s something almost timid about her, though it’s hard to say exactly what. Perhaps just in the quietness of her, or the seeming aura of a life not lived that hangs around her. And yet her kindness is easy enough to spot in that as well. ”I’m Ori,”, she says, having long since stopped using her full name. Whoever Oriash was meant to be, she became quiet Ori instead.

but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too

they promised that dreams come true

Mom would be proud. She’d tell him this (if she could read minds) even without knowing his mother, but he is friendly and polite and she relaxes slightly. Making friends has never been Ori’s strong suit. She has met others, but more often they come up to her, and she has never been particularly good at keeping up with acquaintances and so they never become anything more. Only Petron had been an exception, perhaps Castile just slightly though she cannot call him a friend. He was a captor and the closest thing she’d had to a family growing up. No wonder her ability to maintain relationships is questionable at best.

If only she could read minds though. It might set them both at ease to know that small talk is not their strong suit. Funny really, given that she was the one that came up to him, though she will always break the ice by asking strangers to tell her a story. She paints that story for them, and they can spend some time somewhere else and the awkwardness fades away. His slightly awkward questions don’t bother her though, but rather put her at ease even more, and the hestiance she’d shown before begins to slip away.

”I do, though I’m often in the sky, she says, nodding up slightly, indicating the place where she had just come from. She is a land dweller, certainly, but there’s something safe about being up in the sky. It doesn’t make her feel so terrible, really, to be alone up there. It’s a place where it feels like one is supposed to be alone. ”The meadow is a good place to spend some time though. It’s usually quite pretty here.” She pauses, not minding the small talk that comes easier now as they begin. ”Do you have family in the forest?” she asks, finding it a slightly unusual place to grow up for a young stallion and yet, there is a reserved empathy in her voice. After all, she’d grown up without a family, and so she understands that pain well, but it’s entirely possible his parents simply didn’t want to live in one of the lands. She doesn’t want to assume that they are alike here.

but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too

they promised that dreams come true

She understands loneliness. It is her constant companion as well, and she has never really imagined a world where it is not. There have been friends in her life, to some degree or another, but the truth is that she’s hardly lived a life at all. There are periods where things go well, even a brief period where she was granted time with her family and a chance to get to know some of them. But good things in Ori’s life are fleeting at best, though at least, there are rarely bad things either. No, instead, Ori just finds that she exists, floating through the days with an aimlessness that does her no good. But what else should she do?

Maybe it is why she loves the sky. It is a friend, in its way, even when the world below is not. It’s a quiet friend, for she has no way to speak to the sky or the birds that call it home, but still, she feels welcomed like a child come home, feels embraced by the clouds and loved by the sun, and so she spends more and more time there.

His answer is honest and sad though, and it breaks her heart for it’s a pain she knows all too well. A lost home, a lost family. It’s a story that is far too common, and one that she wishes hadn’t shaped her so. Without thinking, she takes a step forward and reaches out to offer her nose, a gentle brush against his own in reassurance (if he’ll allow it), though she steps back after the moment has passed. “I’m sorry,” she says simply, with a depth of feeling so real that it’s clear she means it. “I haven’t seen them, but I met your mother when I was still a girl. I would recognize her if I saw her again.” She would look for her. Her vantage point from above was certainly useful for such a task.

He seems to rally himself well enough, asking where she is from, though the story is no less tragic in its way. ”I was born in Silver Cove, where my mothers ruled as well. Though no long after Solace became sick, and she and Kagerus entered a dream state. I couldn’t tell you where my siblings were, but for a time, it was just me.” She paints a picture he can see. The meadow beneath them turns to the black sand beaches of the Cove, a young girl laying on the beach where the water meets the sand. There is no mistaking Oriash the child as she lays there until Castile finds her there, and she follows easily enough. “I was stolen to Loess, though I cannot say I fought. There was nothing to keep me in the Cove, though I will always miss those beaches. I grew up in Loess, where I met your mother actually, before she was Queen.”

The scene shifts, the black sand beaches giving way to the rocky hills of Loess. Ori grows before their eyes, and Ocean materializes. Ori’s not quite sure she has every detail of his mother correct, but she cannot forget that beautiful mare even if her memory is slightly imperfect. The pictures fade, and they are left in the meadow again. “Eventually I found some of my family again and moved to Tephra with them, though no place has ever really been home since the Cove. It’s not the same anymore though, so I stay in the common lands and the sky.” Perhaps the sky was her home now, for it certainly had never truly been anywhere on land.

but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too

they promised that dreams come true

Perhaps she should not have shown him his mother. It’s hard to know if that’s something that would be better or worse for them, though certainly she could have thought to ask. It’s hard to miss the way he reaches out for her, and her own heart breaks knowing what it’s like. As a child, her mothers plagued her. They followed her around, always at a distance, always out of reach. Long before she knew how to control her power to create worlds, she created her nightmares without meaning to. Having them so near and yet so far had been torture and comfort all at once. It had reminded her of all the things she would never truly have, and yet…and yet it was better than nothing at all.

He asks about her though, and as the world around them turns back into the meadow, Ori smiles at the question. ”She was new to Beqanna when I met her. Full of questions and curiosity and a hunger for more. And so beautiful, as I’m sure you know.” How could anyone forget a mare like Oceane? It had been so long, but Ori could not forget her. Could not forget that on some level, she would love to figure out how to be like Oceane, to be more, to be driven and curious and alive.

At his next question, she smiles a bit wider. This, this is something she knows. Painting, creating - these have been her outlets for so long now. If anything in her life defined her, it was this skill. “I’m an illusionist,” she says by way of explanation. The air around them is still, but she conjures a breeze anyway. In truth, there is no breeze at all, but she can play with the senses enough to make it feel like there’s wind against his skin. In this case, she doesn’t change the sight to go with it, so none of his hair will move, in order to illustrate the point. ”There’s lots I can do, but I’ve always preferred to paint. Describe something to me,” she says, an invitation to see whatever he wanted brought to life around him.

but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too

they promised that dreams come true

They are all uncertain and new at one point, even if they pretend not to be. It’s just a fact of life that they are all new. Sometimes that newness is simply youth, and sometimes it’s from a life change or a move. The question is whether they ever grow out of it or not. Ori certainly isn’t new anymore. Not to life, not to Beqanna. Her problem is instead that she’s never figured out how to outgrow the uncertainty. Maybe she never will.

She doesn’t know many illusionists either. It’s not a common trait, at least so far as she can find. Though the swath of powers in Beqanna is great and vast, she feels somewhat unique and, in this, isolated but also proud. It is a trait that Ori is particularly fond of, but of course, it is hers. There’s something a little special about feeling like she’s not just like everyone else, even if that was true of just about everyone in Beqanna (except for all the dragons…). ”Me either,” she agrees with a smile. The world was vast and beautiful in it’s own right, even without her creating new ones on top of it.

He begins to describe things to her, and her smile widens. When he says it’s too much, she simply shakes her head and begins. Once, it would have been too much, but Ori has had time enough to learn her skill well, and she is good at it now. A power that once haunted her, that once controlled her, now allows her to control the world instead. The volcano is first, growing out of the ground with a rumble and the sensation of vibrations beneath their feet. Hyaline’s lake is less familiar to her, but she tries based on what she knows, and something vaguely like it appears in the place he had indicated, though it might not be so exact. It is filled with ducks though, and they splash and quack happily in the clear blue water. The sky above them shimmers and shifts as she overlays gold glitter on the sky. It could be entirely gold, but in this, she adds her own touch, figuring he won’t mind. The grass beneath them turns blue, starting from the root and working it’s way up, though she leaves the tips of each blade green simply because she can.

Her smile is wide and her eyes are alight. This is Ori. This is the only version of her that knows how to live as she gets to make the world into anything. In some ways, it helps her remember that they world they live in is beautiful and magnificent, but it reminds her as well that things don’t have to stay the way they are. Nearby she paints her deer friends, which are so often seen near her. They come to her now without much effort, their ears pricked in the direction of Link and Ori, their eyes bright and alert. In the blue grass large flowers of all colors spring to life, dancing in an invisible wind.

The effort looks great, though because it is only herself and Link that see the changes, it is not so great as it might appear. Her magic gets harder with more viewers, though still, the concentration required to hold the illusion makes it difficult for her to have a conversation at the same time. There are so many pieces of it, but for a long moment, the world looks as they have dreamed and she allows them to revel in it before the world around them blinks back into its usual existence. ”Not too much at all. I love to paint,” she says with a smile, using her word for the illusions. That’s what it feels like after all - painting. 

but they forgot that nightmares are dreams too