"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
It was intimidating, leaving the safety and concealment of her cave. The storm had forced her in there, but her injuries had been what made her stay. Hardly able to carry her own weight she had taken her time to recover with no one but Volcan for company. The sharp-tongued mare made a decent companion, but her crass ways had soon begun to wear of the soft spoken cremello. Left alone to her own devices, Nymf had taken the opportunity to explore the reaches of Nerine.
Limping along the pathway, it didn’t take long before she stumbled upon the small group of mares. The Amazons they had come to call themselves. Reborn and still growing, Nymf was glad to see the absence of male influence. She was not yet ready to face the opposite sex.
Bright blue bruises stood out starkly against the pale cream of her coat. No matter how she organized her wings, she could not hide the extent of her damage. Even one of her wings hung slightly lower than the other.
The pain of childbirth had long since subsided and she hadn’t gotten used to the empty feeling of her womb. She missed the little flutters of life that her son had blessed her with daily. Every little kick, hiccup or roll had reassured her that he was still there and thriving. Now that he was gone, it had taken a while before she no longer felt phantom movements.
She could not find the words the describe the depths of her sorrow and when asked by Volcan, she found it easier to give short simple answers than to divulge the truth. Besdies, Volcan didn’t seem terribly interested. Nymf knew the only reason the brusque mare even asked was to make sure that she no longer intended to hurl herself over the side of the cliff.
It was unfortunate that she had been found in such a state. The stigma of that stormy evening would linger over her for a long time and she was certain that her rescuer had already passed along the tale of her newest recruit. That was all she was, after all. A recruit. The more Nymf thought back to that fateful moment the more she’d realized that Volcan had been searching for such an opportunity as the one that she had given her. She was vulnerable and alone and broken and all Volcan had to do was swoop in an offer safety. That wasn’t to say, of course, that she wasn’t grateful for the mare’s actions that night. In that moment Nymf had needed someone to intervene – to force her away from the edge of her despair.
Her mind wandered back to the stormy night, only one day since Volcan had ushered her into the cave. While the sooty mare slept, Nymf had snuck out back to the place where her son lay. There, in the midst of the thunder and the rain, she had buried him and marked his grave with a stone. The memory brought with it a misting of tears and she quickly shook them away. If she wanted to impress the Amazonian queen, Hestia, she had to prove that she was strong and determined. She had to learn all she could before she sought the revenge she thirsted for. With Hestia’s help, there was hope and purpose once more and Nymf was eager to meet the queen who reigned over Nerine.
03-09-2018, 11:06 PM (This post was last modified: 03-09-2018, 11:13 PM by Hestia.)
The world may be a scary place, but to Hestia that just means that she must be that much scarier. Sometimes that means not getting along with everyone you meet, or giving up when things get hard, or impossible for that matter. It’s all just a subtle way of the world saying try harder. Do better, be stronger. It’s because she does this; because she pushes the horses that offer themselves up to the brutal regime of the ranks to do this. Her demands of them are to follow her so that they are now finding their strengths. And maybe its unfair, maybe its cruel how she demands their lives, dreams, and every fiber of their beings to be dedicated to her Nerine. Maybe it’s unreasonable, but she expects the same as she gives.
They call themselves Amazon’s now? She does not know of this, and its most likely a good thing that she doesn’t. She’d not approve, and maybe they need that name on their tongues to bolster themselves for the undertaking of being amongst her ranks. She doesn’t know that some are calling her Khaleesi, this too probably should not come to her awareness. She does not see herself as one of those queens. The Khaleesi’s are what the kingdom remembers, it’s the name they find strength in, but for her it’s a title given to the ghosts that came after the time of the true Amazonian. Thoughts that most likely should never come out of her mouth. It might make them believe that she scorns them and the heritage they look up to. In truth she doesn’t, she sees past the traditions and to the heart and reason they came into existence.
She wants to take Nerine back to that, they just cannot see it yet. They will though, if she keeps pushing them at this rate they will. She has plans, ideas, things that will come to pass over the course of time. Because nothing is instant and trying to make it all happen at this moment would only ruin a good thing. However, she knows they grow restless, the kingdoms have been to quiet. She likes the quiet, wishes the quiet could be forever, but here in Beqanna if a land remains to quiet to long, they grow antsy and begin to squabble. Or start wars, most of the time though they go to hide away in their secret haunts not to be seen until the kingdom is weak once more. Hestia can’t allow any of these scenarios to happen so she acts. She acts in the best interest of her kingdom. She sends them on missions, commands them to practice, keeps them busy until they are strong. They take part in the Alliance wars, recruit new members, bring in children, build relationships with other kingdoms. Yes, everything is going well.
She’s in a calculating mood, going over every angle twice, and every loophole thrice. Every little piece of her puzzle she has memorized, but still, she chooses to leave nothing to chance. The air is brusque with the impending beginnings of winter. Her coat is thicker, a little shaggier. Her patrols take longer as narrow trails become treacherous to travel. She notices the frosty mare in one of her side glances. A quizzical look crossing her face. Hello, this is someone new, she’s never met before but the ocean clings to her hide as if she has already taken residency in Nerine. How is it that she had missed this? Hestia mentally kicks herself for overlooking someone, she would need to hold a meeting again soon. She will not allow them to become nameless, faceless strangers. They will know her as their friend as well as their queen.
HESTIA
The devil whispered in my ear, you’ll never survive the storm I whispered back, I am the storm
The blackened mare looked distracted. Her eyes clouded over as if she was lost to some other reality. Nymf could only imagine what it must be like to carry the weight of an entire kingdom upon one’s shoulders. All the lives that relied on her and required her wisdom. It was no wonder that she was a hard mare to intercept.
From afar, Nymf watched her new queen. She’d never had a queen before. The nomadic lifestyle had been the only thing she’d ever known. Her parents had refused to settle into a kingdom and when she found her Seb, it felt natural that they should follow their example. Life seemed less complicated that way. They’d ruled themselves. It was a freedom that she could never forget and, yet, more recently it was the idea of that very freedom that terrified her. Many a moonlit night she’d laid awake and wondered if he’d still be alive if they’d had a sovereign to protect them. If they had the strength of numbers behind them they would not have been targeted and his life would have been protected.
She shook the thoughts from her mind. There was no point in fixating on the things that she could not change. Though her heart was heavy, she tried to focus on the new life she was beginning to pave for herself. She had to do her best to make something of herself under the Nerine Queen. She had to grow stronger, to prove to herself that she was so much more than a chunk of meat to be used at the pleasure of men. Never again would she allow herself to be caught unaware. Next time, she would fight just as hard as any man ever could.
The voice of Hestia interrupts her musings and she is caught of guard. Surprised. For days she’d watched the mare as she worked tirelessly amongst her people. She always seemed preoccupied – unreachable. Though Nymf had set out to introduce herself to Hestia, she’d not actually anticipated that she would be successful.
Suddenly, she was at a loss. She’d never spoken with a queen before. Should she bow? Should she address her with some kind of title? There had been no preparation for the moment that she’d found herself in and she stuttered stupidly.
”Forgive me,” she finally managed, lowering her neck respectively. ”I have never had the pleasure of addressing a queen.”
Her cheeks flushed with the color of her embarrassment. She should have asked Volcan the proper way to speak to her new ruler. Instead she had found herself looking like a fool.
”I have wanted to introduce myself to you,” she decided to proceed towards the point of her hoped for encounter. ”I am Nymf, Volcan’s newest recruit.”
Recruit sounded better than rescue. It was still embarrassing to remember the circumstances that she had been brought into the fold. She doubted that Hestia would look warmly upon her if she caught wind of her past suicidal tendencies. There were still times when she heard the voice of her beloved Seb beckoning her to join him – and sometimes she wanted to. But, now she had Kiwi to look after and she had a promise to fulfil. She would avenge him. She had to. Then, maybe after, she could join him.
She’s grown so tired, and its only her first year. It’s a good tired though, one she’s not felt in a long time. One that she has missed and acked for. Growing bitter and restless as time passes her by leaving her in its dust. Not this time around, no siree, not this time. She’s on the fast track and its everything she needs to feel alive and useful. If only her and Nymf had met a few…. Okay more like a few lifetimes back when she herself was a nomadic personality. They may have gotten on quite well, going from one place to another, stopping whenever the mood suits. It’s a good lifestyle, a carefree one going where ever the trails take you.
She approaches the girl, and surprises her, not on purpose of course. Though that would have been fun too… She shakes the thought out of her head. Cheeky, well used to be. Now its little things that she takes wry pleasure in. Hestia rolls her shoulders, no need for forgiveness, you did fine. she nods with a gentle bump of her muzzle to the girls shoulder. It still makes her uncomfortable when others defer to her. She’d like to tell them no, don’t, no need, thanks but just call me Hestia. Yet if she allows that, then respect is forgotten. So, she’s chosen a nice compromise, a gentle bow, or nod, some form of gesture from them giving the respect needed for her station, while the rest is all just unnecessary fluff that she won’t allow. They must connect with her and know that she works right alongside them. She will not elevate herself over them. It’s a tightrope walk she does. One that is tricky and one slip means not only the death of herself but of all she hopes to accomplish in Nerine.
Nymf, It’s a pleasure. I’m glad that you sought me out. I enjoy meeting all who choose to make a home of Nerine. She gestures to the land around them. Volcan, she’d such high hopes for the girl, maybe there still is. She’ll give her one more chance she thinks. After all sometimes things happen, and Hestia won’t presume to judge. She’ll just wait and see what will happen with the once promising young recruit. I trust that you’re stay here as treated you well? She knows the young mare can be difficult with her tongue, but Hestia sees the potential. If only she continues to apply herself… The black mare watches, keenly aware that something is making the white mare a little uncomfortable. She has a look, and now Hestia is curious as to what is going on in that mind of hers. She’s about to ask, but she thinks maybe giving the mare a chance to explain on her own would be best. Had someone beat her here? She’d be surprised. It’s not something that she thinks her people capable of doing to one of their own. Not something she would tolerate within her own borders.
Nerine was still a strange place to Nymf. It was the farthest west in Beqanna that she’d ever been and the salty air still stung her nostrils and dried her eyes. Coarse sea grass grew in abundance all around and, yet, it still felt foreign upon her tongue. She found herself craving the sweet taste of the soft petaled grass common in many of the surrounding realms.
Since the time she’d been a filly she’d been taught the nomadic ways of her ancestors. Never traveling in a grouping larger than four, she’d learned the importance of stealth and family. Being in such close quarters to such a multitude of unfamiliar faces – she had yet to adjust. The sounds of the herd’s daily activities filled the area and, up until now, she’d found herself watching them from the confines of her cave. It was hard to feel welcome among them when so many surpassed her own meager abilities.
As her conversation progressed with the queen herself, however, Nymf’s apprehensions slowly melted away. Far from the structured ruler that she’d presumed, Hestia seemed almost relaxed amid her people. Ashamed, though she was to admit it, she knew very little of the history behind the coalition she’d inadvertently joined.
Hestia spoke eloquently of her wish that Nymf was enjoying her stay there with them and the pale woman couldn’t help but smile. ”My stay has been very beneficial,” Nymf offered by means of encouragement. ”I came to this land in search of an escape…and I think it’s safe to say that I found exactly what I needed, even if it wasn’t exactly what I’d been expecting.”
She knew her words probably made very little sense to Hestia – and it was abundantly clear that the black mare and Volcan hadn’t shared much information between them. It was almost encouraging to her. For once, she felt like she had a clean slate.
Nerine is strange for what it is. A conglomeration of opposites, old, young, hopeful, cynical, male and female. They all come together in this place. Looking for a purpose to more than what they are. Just as she does. She’s found her purpose though, now to give them theirs. It’s a good thing Nymf doesn’t know their history. Hestia wants them to follow without presumption. The less they presume the better the results. At least that is how she sees it. Only time will tell though.
Hestia may have the ability to strike terror when needed, but she won’t if she can help it. She’d much rather be friends and work in comradery then work among fear and enemies. She listens to the woman’s words. Nodding her head in acknowledgement. The mare’s words are slightly cryptic, but the black mare doesn’t pry any further than the other is willing to give. I am glad to hear this. She says instead, understanding as much as she needs to. Nymf has found Nerine as a home, and that is what is important. Her past is her own just as Hestia’s is hers…. Well used to be her own.
Now her entire life might as well be available for the pickings. Not quite, those she does share things with keep it to themselves, they may pry beyond reason but generally they respect what she’s been through and give her exactly what it is that she needs. Others who find out things about her are ones who’ve angered her, and they too generally keep their knowledge to themselves, giving her space. Other’s who’ve been through worse sympathize and remain silent understanding that sometimes it’s better just not to talk.
Everyone reacts to her differently. Everyone she’s met connects with her in a different way. However, she does try to form some type of connection with all the residents in Nerine. She wants them to understand the bond of sisterhood that used to exist, even if it won’t be the same kind. She smiles at the woman nudging her gently where she is not bruised in the spirit of comradery. Is there anything in particular I can help you with? Or would you prefer to just chat? She doesn’t mean to sound pushy, but she is curious, as most don’t seek her out just for the purpose of chatting her up. Usually they have something on their minds.
Her tail sways leisurely as they walk through the land. Her eyes traveling over the female at her side. The black queen thinks she rather likes her, with her easy personality and quiet ways Nymf would make a great diplomat. She knows just the kingdoms she’d assign her too as well. Ones that she knows the mare will be safe in visiting. Hestia hates putting any out of their comfort zones and will do all she can to accommodate those who she is familiar with. But those that cross her… well. Let’s just hope no one does so any time soon.
HESTIA
The devil whispered in my ear, you’ll never survive the storm I whispered back, I am the storm
Looking around her, it wasn’t hard to imagine why Hestia had managed to accumulate such a large number about her. Beautiful in it’s simplicity, Nerine was peaceful in its own way and it felt safe. The land was nothing but sky and sea and dunes. But still, they persisted through the storms and had grown comfortable. It was almost beautiful, the gathering of beings – all in completely different walks of life but geared towards one goal. The perseverance of Nerine.
There was no telling why or how Nymf had found herself upon that cliffside. In her headlong race to escape her tormentors she’d somehow traveled farther than she’d ever dared go before. Her devotion to Nerine was different than the others, she suspected. In many ways, she felt like the water and coarse grass had saved her life. Carried upon the wind had been an urgency, a chance for a second chance and a place to belong after such a tortured change in her fate.
Face to face with the lands caretaker, she could do nothing but mutter the feeling that had sprouted wings within her. ”I – I just wanted the chance to thank you,” she stuttered feeling suddenly foolish. ”Volcan – this place, I think it saved me and, though I don’t know how long I will stay, I am grateful for every moment I am here.”
She knew that her sentiments were nothing compared to the devotion Hestia was showered in by those far more devoted than her. It was hard not to admire the black mare. Her’s was a task that most shied away from and her humility would be something that Nymf would never forget.
teach these broken wings to fly
@[Hestia] I am so sorry that you have waited so long for this and I'm also equally sorry that the quality isn't that good.
The sea in all its beauty and strength could be seen as a safety net, though the threat and power behind it is just as real. It’s in strength that they find safety, and power that they can find beauty. A hypnotic combination ready to be wielded in the deadliest of ways. The storms come and they suck Hestia into them surrounding her, threatening her, testing her until she is sure that she will break. And every time she comes close, every time she is about to waver someone comes. Her people, they come to her and support her. The black queen couldn’t be more grateful for this.
She may never be completely happy in Nerine, it is hard to do when the world you’ve known for over a century, the kingdom you were born into, the people that you’ve known through that time are completely gone. Obliterated from existance every trace of all that you knew just gone. It makes it hard to be happy with the different place. Even if Nerine grows on her, and even if she grows to like and love the salty shores of this haven. There will always be a piece missing. A slight twinge that will have her switching her tail absentmindedly trying to rid herself of that irritating ache that will never disappear completely.
Well I’m a bit biased, but I do hope that you choose to call Nerine home for the rest of your life; her lip twitches in humor. Her words are not snarky, but gentle even if Hestia isn’t all that expressive. Her tail switches at an annoying twitch in her hip lazily in its luster. It’s amazing how Nerine can transform a creature honestly. She used to be all wiry muscle and tight athletic skin, almost masculine. Then she started to age and her coat began to dull, her muscles became stringy. Her veins started to pop from her skin that hang loose from her body, ugly as her form began to creak and groan under the loss of her immortality. Arthritis and all the groans of old age giving her reason to complain.
After receiving immortality again, after spending time in Nerine; her body is supple, her muscles, while still strong, are not defined as they used to be. Sloping curves of a bright and soft coat protect her from the cold harsh winds of Nerinian winters. The pains of age dissipating her skin tight to her form once more. She is strong, but there is a womanliness that she’d lacked in her jungle and valley homes. Here they are well fed and truly are safe. Predators have not roamed the plains here since she’d risen to power, and she isn’t aware if they ever have. Its… pleasant.
HESTIA
The devil whispered in my ear, you’ll never survive the storm I whispered back, I am the storm
Nymf was growing more at ease with every exchanged word. The wind whipped between them and the soft calling of her cave slowly drew her attention. Standing had begun to slowly take it’s toll on her as her wounds throbbed to the rhythm of her heartbeat. She smiled weakly up towards the darkened queen, her wings spreading slightly to steady her.
“Thank you, Hestia,” she said, a strained edge upon her voice. “I appreciate you taking time out of your busy day to help make me feel more welcomed. I will do my best to serve this kingdom well.”
The cream-colored mare tipped her head respectfully as she took an unsteady step back towards the cave she’d claimed alongside Volcan. A soft drizzle had begun to fall from the overcast sky above, wetting down the soft down of her feathers. She did not wait for the black coated queen to reply, knowing that her day would, no doubt, be filled with a dozen other conversation of the same sort. Nymf did not wish to steal any more of her time.
Her soul was more at ease after their conversation. She felt certain that Nerine would make a good home for her and Kiwi.
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