"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
Different shapes, sizes, ages, genders, and colors adorned the Nerinian coastline. Scanning over the mass of bodies that lay interspersed in front of her, she realized none were familiar to her. The exception being the bare form of Scorch amidst the throng of equines. A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips when Breckin recalls how welcoming the elder mare at been. And that is one of the reasons why the spotted mare had been wandering throughout Nerine, internally mapping out the territory and attempting to learn the internal workings.
It was when the woman was within the belly of a cove that a resonating call met her inattentive lobes. Really, not much thought was given to the sound initially as her brown gaze returned the rock outcropping she had been previously interested in. But with a few more steps a different thought crosses her mind. Perhaps there would be something interesting at the other end of the summoning—something worth investigating. But she was not a part of Nerine officially. What if she would not be welcome? With a slight shrug she makes her way toward the coastline in the direction of the call; they could simply tell her to leave if they had a problem with it.
When she finally comes to a halt near the gathering, she is just within earshot of the voices, but remains the furthest outlier of the group. There is no visible attempt made to hide herself from the others and she watches and listens with curious intent as the flame cloaked mare speaks. It would seem the spotted mare was late to the meeting and had missed the beginning formalities. The command the ebon mare draws allows Breckin to conclude that this must Hestia; leaving further doubt to be cast aside the longer that the mare speaks.
Much of the conversations mean little to her, but she listens with full attention all the same. Until Brennen and Ischia is mentioned, then her ears swivel to full alert having some type of recognition of who and what they are currently talking about. But as the topic progresses, she realizes that recognition is short lived and the briefest spark of excitement dies in her eyes. She sighs with frustration, because although she knows of Brennen and Ischia, the implications of what they intend to do mean nothing to her. Despite how much she is trying to learn of Beqanna, she still knows so little in light of everything. And this meeting only further cements that revelation.
The normal ascent and descent of the conversations carry on without her and a pale dome wilts lower toward the sand. She has nothing to offer this place—no abilities or opinions. She cannot even officially call Nerine home yet. Perhaps someday that will change. But for now she remains homeless, magicless…..useless.
Nymf watched from the behind the gathering of Nerinians. Beside her, Kiwi stood alert, her greet tipped ears arched forward with interest. Beqanna was changing and her wings tensed in anticipation. Before, she would have contentedly kept to herself. From her place on the outside of main society internal battles and the changing of the kingdoms leaders. Rarely ever did their squabbles effect the lives of the nomadic. That was the appeal of such a carefree way of life. In many ways, she missed it, but a new interest was rising up inside of her as she listened to the Queen of Nerine speak. There was so much about to happen, so much about to change and it was thrilling to be a part of it.
As a new member, however, Nymf kept her thoughts to herself as conversation bounced around her. The difference in opinions kept the tone lively, but not confrontational. She imagined this Brennen and his ambitions, as well as the band of brothers she wished to create. Ischia had always remained outside of her ability to visit, even though the crossing would have been nothing with the help from her wings. She’d heard very little in regard to the current queen, Krone, but she’d never thought of her as a particularly bad leader. It was confusing to the cream-colored mare as to why the stallion would wish to overthrow her. Again, for fear of sounding ignorant or foolish, she kept her thoughts safely to herself.
Nervously she nuzzled her adopted child, taking a moment to admire how much she’d grown. She no longer resembled the abandoned filly she’d found asleep in a meadow. Her deep green coloring stood out in contrast to the environment around them and Nymf hoped that she would always embrace her uniqueness.
As the conversation slowly swung to a close. There was no telling how things would turn out, but Nymf’s loyalties would remain to Nerine.
First comes Scorch they exchange their acknowledgements then one by one they come, they answer her and appear as summoned. Hestia hates that word though, summoned, it sounds so demanding and not at all what the tone of her call is. She gives them a chance to come to her, to be gathered and become a part of their kingdom. Her eyes linger on Porcia for a moment. Shit, the black hag had forgotten to tell her about her position here. She is to focused on the young mare to notice that Djinni is behind her until the rose gold has moved to cluster in with Walter; to whom Hestia nods in return, grateful for the moment to anchor herself. She nods to the Mage and ex-queen as well in turn respecting their space as much as they respect hers. This anchors her so that she doesn’t explode and bite someone as she still broils over at excessive contact with others.
Finally, she begins, the turnout is surprising even for her. She’d hoped for more than last time but this… this has her head swimming. She talks as she is supposed to, does what she needs to do, and pauses patiently giving everyone equal opportunity to put their two cents in. Most things are a blur for her, until they get to the serious business. Starlin, a mare she’s yet to know personally steps forward with a concern that Hestia knows is coming. This adjustment won’t be easy, and she isn’t going to yank them completely out of their traditions in one go, but she doesn’t need to explain this to them. Her green eyes watch the female steadily, slow to begin speaking, but not hesitant as Hestia already knows how she will reply. Having already considered these implications. Hestia doesn’t smile, but her words are not callous either. Her voice steady and authoritative in its nuances she replies. I am choosing a filly as there are no males born of Nerine’s blood that I know of. She pauses for a second, thinking of her attempt to bring Castile back into Nerine, and his adamant denial of coming home. In dry humor she tacks on to alleviate any stress they may feel, Besides there are some habits even I cannot break. She doesn’t mean for them to take the last bit seriously, but she still doesn’t smile.
They eventually move on to other equally important topics. She nods to the child volunteer with a softer look in her eye than she normally offers in thanks to her willingness to follow the footsteps of her peer. Brennen and Ischia spark up a debate, something she’d been expecting. It’s a controversial topic, and Hestia respects all their opinions. She listens closely not disregarding anything they say. She may not be able to explain outright exactly what her plans are and honestly, she wouldn’t even if she could. To do that would make her a weak queen, something that she will never be. Her green eyes thank Walter for his support, even amidst the turmoil that he could have easily, and understandably succumbed to. He doesn’t though, and it gives her confidence in Nerine to know that they stand a chance of working as one even in their disagreements. Nayl and Sloene seem to have a strong difference of opinion and Hestia doesn’t step in. She will let them work it out on their own. It’s not her place to mediate everything they do. They must learn to work together.
The black mare listens as many step forward proposing why they should be allowed in the new ranks. The first one receives a menacing grin her flames licking at her sides, her eyes burning with the flame that can so easily consume her. Hestia, allow me, Oblivion pleads in her mind. I can teach her what fear is. The queen is tempted for a moment, you know no fear because you’ve not encountered anything worthy to be afraid of. The black mare states aloud. Everyone is afraid of something, no soul is without fear, it’s an impossibility. And where would honesty get you in this trade? Hestia isn’t mean in her statements she steps close to the mare that is so brazen in her words boasting of things that cannot be. Maybe she would be useful. The smell of singed hair coats her nostrils. It is not her decision, and with a quirk of her head the flames fall as ash around her body left untouched in the heat. While others continue asking to be apart of this new group she looks to Djinni. Noting the mares look. Her own lip twitches at the corner before they break their gazes looking to the crowd once more. She knows the plan, rumors will abound about this in the other lands, but it means nothing as no one, not even Hestia will know who becomes apart of the elite band. The black mare does not wish to know, it is dangerous knowledge to have, even for a queen. Trusting a magician with it is the wisest thing. Even if it goes against everything inside her to entrust that much power to an individual who’s outright told her, she has no loyalty to Nerine or Hestia. Still if she were to be brought down by anyone, she couldn’t imagine a better opponent.
She notices some that are silent in the back. She tries her best to remember all who are present. Some are missing whom she’d hoped would be there, others who are present she doesn’t know on a personal level and decides to seek them out later to become better acquainted. Everything no matter or small or against her own opinions they are she takes to heart. This meeting has left much for her to think on. Much to decide and weigh. It would be curious to see if Sloene and Nayl could work out their differences or how Lewana would react to the words she’d spoken. The kingdom is growing and their relationships need to grow along with that. All Hestia can do is what she thinks is right for the people of Nerine, and work from there. She still hopes that a few more she knows lurk the kingdom will show.
HESTIA
The devil whispered in my ear, you’ll never survive the storm I whispered back, I am the storm