"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
well, the good ol' days may not return, and the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn.
The air is warm; uncomfortably so. The sun in all of its brilliant splendor has since dipped beyond the fading horizon, its light tucked away beneath the rim of lightly dusted mountain peaks, giving way to the resplendence of darkness as it settles into the void. Yet, the gentle glimmer of starlight cannot keep the humidity at bay, and so the evening has a beauty tainted by discomfort and dismay. The way that it weaves wicked beads of sweat between his tightly knit feathers cause his otherwise stoic expression to stir, but with a sharp roll of his left shoulder, the droplets fall away and he is left once again to the deepest recesses of his mind.
A whispering breeze carries through at last, giving a fragment of solace to the otherwise stagnant heat. Another bead of sweat stains the pale gold of his skin, dripping down and disappearing into his dark, damp tresses. His thick lashes close over his deep, thoughtful hazel eyes as he savors the bristling sensation across the length of his spine, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corner of his whiskered mouth. He cannot fault the moon for what the sun has done, but what wouldn't he do to be able to draw a heavier gust of wind his way, to sweep the unnatural heat away to the southern border? A low, rumbling chuckle reverberates from deep within his chest. A fool can dream.
He finally draws away from the shadows of a looming branch, no longer needing the soothing caress of its shadow, his eyes glued to the blanket of stars that loom overhead. He is growing, slowly but steadily, into brawn and muscle, not unlike his own father. His gentle, youthful features are giving way to hardened lines, and the hefty plumage folded tightly against his toned physique grow with each dull, passing day - but still, he is young, oblivious to the bloodshed and history that has been so carefully folded and tucked within the bedrock below him. Only time would be able to pry away at his optimism, and only time could show him the darkest, deepest secrets the shadows have to offer.
His mind falls away to an old memory, of his mother's prying lips against his lopsided mane, of his father's quiet but solid presence - the stars had fallen that night, crossing the midnight divide with their fleeting light, and he had been captivated. The grandeur of the sky had always enthralled him. The drifting, blossoming clouds. The way the sun would rise and set in the sky, painting it in various hues of cobalt, indigo, magenta and tangerine along its journey. The sky is where he felt he belonged most, with the wind beneath his wings and the brim of an endless sky just beyond his reach. Nothing had ever come close.
Suddenly, his reverie is broken, shattered by the brunt of his own shoulder making contact with the solid, rounded flank of another. His hazel eyes widen, startled by the apricot-painted figure before him, but soon his shock gives way to mild amusement and - dare he admit it, embarrassment? A half-hearted laugh emerges, and a sheepish, yet almost impish smile tugs at both corners of his mouth. "I'm so sorry, Exist - I was .. preoccupied; I didn't see you."Standing plainly in the middle of a vast, open grassland. Right. Idiot."What I mean is - nevermind. What are you doing out so late?"
while collecting the stars, I connected the dots. I don’t know who I am, but now I know who I’m not.
During the day, Tephra was beautiful. The land was nestled in the lap of a volcano, drenched in rich greenery from the intense humidity and an endless steam that fell like white lace around the edges of the springs and lava beds. There were fewer trees here than in some of the other places she had visited with Leliana, and so the sky seemed vast and unending, an aching blue that rivaled the oceans lapping at Tephra’s beaches. But the most beautiful part of this land was when night fell, when the sun dipped beneath that stony horizon and darkness rose up to greet them. With oceans on all sides and water to catch and reflect what little light did remain, this was when Tephra truly came alive.
There is a smile on her lips as she climbs out of the ocean, racing the dark so that she can be buried further into the heart of the land when night comes. She is fast, weightless with the new magic that feels like gentle fire thrumming through her veins. It is wholly hers, wholly beautiful, and she can feel it in her chest, in her bones, in the soft whirl of every russet feather along those glorious wings. But there is other magic, too, a magic that is only hers by gift, not by birth, a magic she had poured first into Leliana. It was a giving magic. It had taken hold inside of her sister and, like when it had been given to Exist, she found her sisters traits restored. This other magic burned inside of her, it was hers and it wasn’t, it was good and it wasn’t. So much power, so much responsibility, and it filled her with a wildness, an ache that had lessened just slightly when she poured it into her sister.
Keep giving.
She could hear it whispering inside her chest, timed to the rhythm of her heart and her hooves as she closed the distance between herself and the volcano. Keep giving. Just a hum or an echo, but she knew she would for as long as it roared inside of her.
Breathless and wet, damp with the humidity, damp from her swim back to Tephra, she slows to a stop beneath the deepest shadows of the volcano and lifts her delicate face upwards. “Oh!” It is just a gasp of sound, an echo of the awe that fills her chest. All along the volcano, and even meandering through the plains of Tephra, are glowing veins of red and gold, thin streams of smoldering lava that paint the night like the tails of falling stars. She is about to step away and follow one of the molten paths out into the night again when something hard and heavy collides with the curve of her flank. Surprised, she turns, the uncertainty that had etched itself into the shadows of her copper face smoothed away immediately by the sound of a familiar voice and the face that belonged to it.
“Canaan,” she greets him warmly, touching her nose fleetingly to his cheek, and then, “I know.” She did know, she even understood the way the stars pulled his heart to them in the same way the lava trails sang out to her. They had never really spoken about it, there hadn’t been a need, but it didn’t mean that they hadn't noticed. In fact, his affinity for the universe nestled in silver above their heads had always made her fond of the older boy. It was his peace, his quiet, his weightlessness.
She smiles at him again, a more distant smile as she borrowed one last look up the mountain at the veins of sunset gold, and then turned her green eyes on pale glow of a quiet face the color of cold starlight. “We’re always out late.” She replies pointedly, the corners of her bright eyes crinkling with mischief. But then the breeze rose again, breathing life into the feathers on both of their wings and she froze, wide-eyed, as the magic in her chest roared again. As if she had no say in the matter, those russet wings unfurled to cup the watery starlight, glinting red and bronze in the glow of the nearest lava. “Canaan,” she says breathlessly, restlessly, pushing her forehead against his nose, “something happened to me today.” It is like electricity in her veins, lightning worming through her skin and she aches with it. “Run with me.” Breathless, wild, just the echo of a plea and then she is off.
well, the good ol' days may not return, and the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn.
Soon, the speckling of twinkling lights fades away as his hazel eyes begin to adjust to the descending darkness, her delicate features standing out against the wavering tendrils of dried brush. His own sheepish smile remains, twitching at the very corner of his mouth as his warm breath mixes with her own, adding to the heat of the atmosphere that causes beads of sweat to trickle down along his own physique, and for her own dampness to remain supple across her pale apricot skin. Canaan, she breathes his name, as she had done so many times before - many long summer nights had been spent among the starlit skies, between both of them and her sister, too. I know.
She knows too well.
Her voice was warm, energized with electricity, and breathless, and he could hardly conceal the amused glint within his shining eyes. The flattened line of her nose presses briefly to his cheek, and the crease of his mouth soon melds into an awkward grin, perhaps even a giddy one. It seems almost juvenile in contrast to the rigid lines of his broadening jaw and the toned muscle that moves effortlessly beneath his pale skin, and it gives away the secret of his youth. The humidity lingers still, entangled in each of their matted tresses, which lay sticky and hot against the broad plane of each of their necks. He follows the gentle line of her jaw with his eyes, along the sinewy muscle of her neck and finally, along the graceful curve of her vivid russet wings.
His heart hammers within his chest as the ridge of his brow furrows, observing the way the perfect, pristine feathers bristle and shiver against their hollow bones, but soon his bewilderment gives way to awe. Such vivid appendages had never graced her petite physique before, and he could hardly believe his own eyes. Before he is able to form a single word, she utters his name softly again, her dampened forehead pressed firmly against the slope of his own. His nostrils flare, inhaling the fading scent of the salty sea on her wet skin, and she murmurs, something happened to me today.
"That seems like a bit of an understatement," He says with a rumbling chuckle, incredulous at the sheer energy that surrounds her, of the ruffled feathers that press so firmly against her rounded side. His own feathers begin to bristle as a familiar ache settles into the hollow bones, the longing for flight settling into the very pit of his belly. "When? How?" He begins, but his gold-flecked hazel eyes meet with hers, and his urgent curiosity ebbs away as he observes the way the bubbling, glowing streams of lava simmer and glow within the depths of her emerald gaze. A fire is ignited within her; a fiery glee that is almost contagious. His own heart hammers again within his chest as she whispers to him, run with me.
And then she is gone, a fleeting sight of copper and indigo, with long limbs and fluttering wings. A boisterous laugh bursts from his chest as he tosses the length of his neck back, shaking the damp bronze tendrils of hair away from his eyes before launching himself after her. His legs, riddled with iron muscle and raw energy, surge him forward as each beat brings him closer to her. The ground rattles and shakes beneath him, leaving deep imprints into the sifting silt and volcanic ash as his lungs begin to burn from the heat of night, exhilaration and adrenaline both pressing him forward.
"You know you can never beat me!" His deep voice looms in the heavy air, followed by a breathless laugh as the brunt of his dull teeth gently graces the rounded curve of her hind end. But he would always let her. A mischievous grin reaches the very core of his eyes, which glint with amusement and mirth, as his shoulder is soon aligned with her own. His bristling feathers briefly touch with hers, and with a wayward glance, he observes the sooty chestnut against vibrant copper. Suddenly, a single eye settled on her, "Fly with me, Exist - fly!"
12-11-2016, 01:45 AM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2016, 09:21 AM by exist.
Edit Reason: :|
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while collecting the stars, I connected the dots. I don’t know who I am, but now I know who I’m not.
Her eyes find his in the dark, the melding of green and hazel and gold in the flickering starlight, and it doesn’t take much to reclaim the grin that had belonged to the boy from their past. But the sight of that smile, of the boy she had spent endless nights with peering back out at her from the body of someone older, someone grown, only deepens the wildness coursing beneath her skin. Impatiently, eagerly, she throws back her head, catching all of the stars in the dark of those wild green eyes, binding them inside with a single blink. With her face to the sky, to the glowing night, she does not notice how his eyes trace the hollows of her cheeks or the curve of gleaming, copper neck.
But then he draws her back to him, and with their foreheads pressed tightly together, she cannot hold back the laughter that rings from her lips. She is exultant when she pulls apart from him, aching with the magic that fills her up inside, and it is like the lava is beneath her skin, in her veins, for the way she burns fever-bright in the night. “It might be a bit of an understatement.” She concedes, flashing a grin at the chuckle this earns. “I met a mare earlier, she was as blue as I, and Canaan, she gave me something!” Her voice is thick with longing when she breaks away from him again, pressing her smile and the dull edge of mischievous teeth to the soft of a pale, perfect neck. A whisper, and then, “Canaan, watch.”
She drifts just out of reach, touching her lips to the downy softness of the amber feathers within his wings. Closing her eyes, her wings unfurled even wider than before, as large as his and just as strong. Then slowly, feather by feather, they faded from the deep russet to that soft amber until she moved again to face him, holding them as he held his in perfect mirror. With a gentleness that belied the fire in her eyes, she lifted her chin defiantly and flapped the wings once, hard, so that when they reopened again they were once more delicate and feminine and a deep, gleaming bronze. Hers, not his.
Then they are gone together, racing like comets across the grasslands, one a deep copper, the other like trapped starlight. She takes the lead quickly, easily, and though she knows he must let her do so, she doesn’t care. Physically, he is her better – corded with muscle and sinew and raw energy, but she is wildness personified, grace and freedom. You know you can never beat me! She hears him boom in the night, breathless like she is, and just as buoyant. His teeth find traction in the curve of her hip and she bucks in the next stride, throwing a grin back over her shoulder, though her hooves land nowhere near him.
He is at her shoulder then, hearts and hooves pounding together in a rhythm of wildness only they can feel, and when their wings brush and the feathers tangle and twine and come together, she makes no effort to hide the pleasure that burns bright in her eyes. It comes unexpectedly, this burst of magic, from the marrow of her bones and the blood in her veins, from the echo of her heart and the pounding of her hoofbeats – and she cannot stop it, does not want to stop it, when it pours into Canaan and fills him up as it had filled her.
She had meant to ask first, do you want this, do you wanted to be remade like me, but the relief is immediate, like being able to exhale after having held ones breath for a lifetime, and she finds no regret when she searches her heart. They are changed, but they are not different - it was only what the world had already given, only things reclaimed. Exist knew this from her earliest memories in the mountain, curled in the half-dark with Victra and Leliana. But did Canaan know? It is too late to wonder now, impossible to take anything back, so she lifts her face to the night sky, eager to be lost, to swim among the stars and their cold silver light. When he calls to her, when she hears that single, terrifying word, fly, it is with all her faith placed in him that she unfurls those russet wings and pushes herself from the familiarity of the green ground and into a black and endless sky.
"Show me how, Canaan." In the humid air, in the aching wind, her voice is ripped from her lips, just a whisper of sound lost to the gleaming, diamond stars.
well, the good ol' days may not return, and the rocks might melt, and the sea may burn.
The wild adrenaline that courses through her veins is palpable; tangible. He can very nearly feel it rooting within his own soul, crawling through each individual veil and capillary, flooding his senses with a sense of invincibility that only the starlit night had ever stirred within him before. Though her eyes, brilliant and bright, turn towards the wide expanse of sky overhead, his own remain steady - hazel flecks observing the way her youthful features give way to age. The gentle slope of her jawline and the long lines of developing muscle along the length of her broad, but still slender neck cause something unusual and raw to rise in the tight confines of his suddenly too-dry throat.
Soon, her skin is against his own and he is brought back to the moment with a jolt of binding electricity, and a boisterous laugh emerges from the broadness of his chest. The touch is only brief, but it is enough to break him away from the heavy moment his mind had only just surrendered to, reminding him again of his youth and of the many nights shared lingering beneath the moon and alongside the bubbling pools of lava that give the ashen land its sunlit glow.
Her teeth graze lightly across his skin before pulling into an elfish grin, causing his own to uptick at the corners of his whiskered mouth. She burns before him, a flickering ember that has all at once become a raging inferno, enthrallment filling every crevice of her changing features and still, he burns in the presence of her brightness.
"Show me," is all that he can manage before she unfurls the beauty and grace of her own feathered limbs - stained a deep copper and bathing beneath the undeniable glow of magma and ash from the mountain that lay so tantalizingly close behind her. There is something remarkable and glorious in their beauty, in the way her feathers lay so flawlessly preened and lined with perfection along the hollow but powerful bones of her newfound branches to freedom. His own heart pounds yet again, thrusting with vigor against the solidity of his rib cage, the golden specks in his green eyes tracing each curving line before meeting her eye. Just then, with a powerful stroke, his own frosted tresses are tossed across the nape of his thick neck from the sudden burst of warm air as her wingspan flaps against the stillness of the air.
And then, she is gone. He is caught in the moment, his own growing limbs (no longer lanky, but now limber and agile) churning the bulk of his muscled body forward, each footfall landing with a powerful thud that rattles the soft and moist ground that lay beneath his weight. Adrenaline now courses through his own veins as the starlit night is soon lost to him, his gaze set only upon the sloping spine and riveting feathered limbs of the young female before him. His blunt teeth are bared with determination and unbridled laughter as he tosses his own neck towards the sky, just as his own shoulder brushes alongside his.
As his skin touches hers, he is filled to the brim with something unbridled and wild - something invigorating and his heart very nearly threatens to burst forth from his chest, and his hazel eyes look wildly to her with both excitement and confusion. The bristling magic follows every line and crevice of his body, tucking itself into the very fibers of his being and drawing forth what he cannot see - pulling to the surface only what he can feel. His lungs burn from the intensity, the simmering coals of an unstoked fire suddenly burning bright within him, and he is very nearly breathless.
And he does not know how it stirs within him, until her breathless words reach him through the thick of the night: Show me how, Canaan.
His throbbing heart skips a beat, and his smile slackens as she unfurls the length of her breathtaking wings, using the lighthearted spring in her step and the power behind her quickened pace to throw herself with wild abandon to the twinkling sky above her. Dread branches from the very rooted bottom of his belly, as he knows all too well how difficult flight can be, knows how unforgiving and brutal the hard ground can be to one too confident and too unyielding to gravity. Without meaning to, a heavy gust of wind is seemingly pulled out of nowhere, stirring the once thick and still air of night and carrying itself beneath the broad expanse of her wings, pushing her up and carrying her into the twilight.
Awe etches itself into his features as he launches himself after her with a few hefty wing-beats into the sky, his own sheer will carrying her as her own wings taste the sweet vermouth of freedom that only the sheer openness of the sky can offer. With power he had never known he held locked away within some darkened part of him, his wild heart and racing mind manipulate the very air that surrounds them, weaving itself between her bristling feathers and carrying the weight and burden of her inexperience. Once more, the elated grin pulls at his lips as each takes to the night, suddenly knowing the truth behind her exhilaration and all at once, filled with it himself.
