"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
your eyes are lined in pain, black tears don't hide in rain
She’d been away: wandering through wild rose fields and brush- through warrens where rabbits peaked up and nibbled on all sorts of things. The trees around her so tall and all the darkness comfortable; but that was only in part to her imagining the idea that Ether was there. Flowers and coconuts, all manner of life has taken root; but one more interesting note is the warmth of the water and all the nibbling fish in shoals as they spread across the sea.
Watching them from her rock, she sees patterns of black and chaos: rays and skates that break them apart and like a liquid they reforms soon after. Her eyes close, and Briella smells the saltwater and sand: the passing breeze that carries with it touches of worlds across the ocean. Serene as she though, she does turn, walking through a patch of darkness behind a split and fallen tree.
Void.
Soundless and ever stretching itself out, the Void laughs in a way that makes it sound like a death rattle: fleshy and porous- but smoky all the same she runs, she breaks into a full run and screams.
The darkness is endless, and in it she feels pain in her bones and body, she feels her muscles as if they were on fire: and she hears wet pops and squelching sounds when the flesh tears and reshapes. Like rough water it bubbles and darkens: her mutable body little more than clay in the hands of this maddening entity.
When she breaks free? Briella is spat upon the sand with cramps and pain, with all her body crumbled to the ground. She kicks and shakes, tries to re-align and center herself, and inevitably she gets up. Tired and exhausted, sore in ways she cannot comprehend. When she walks there is a grace in her step that seems like a dancer’s own movements: and her gait is entirely smooth, so much so that it seems as if she is years into practice of it.
Taller, stronger, and larger: she can see the reflection darkened and a faux-chocolate color on her body, the blonde mane and tail wavy and long: glamorous and thick. She still has pale blue eyes; but more so notable is the ice in her man and tail, the frost peppering her body. Exhaling there is a billowing cloud around her nose, and Briella hears her name called.
She stumbles, walks, and goes to meet them: but she stops, mulling over the thoughts of what would happen: at how they would respond to this ever strange magic. With some reservation she does walk to them: blinking and unsure of herself, lacking all the confidence she might’ve had once.
“I don’t know what’s happening.” she states, perplexed.
Brazen rubbed her face against him, making him completely melt as she settled her cute little face on his knee with a sigh. She was so damn beautiful, and he couldn't help but be so thrilled that she was here with him, right here with him. By her own choice. And when he nipped her in adoring affection she returned it, biting at his chin and making him hum with happy pleasure as he nuzzled her again.
What a damn good baby.
Heartfire scowled at his baby girl's name, and it made him love it even more. It was what he was best at, after all. If it made her scowl, he'd probably done something right. So Brazen she would be. Which was further confirmed with a smug smirk in his mouth when Heartfire conceded with a sigh, agreed that it was fitting. Of course it was. She was perfect.
Mmmm, and see? He did do it right. He must have because that look in her eye got a bit heated right back, her lips pressing to his skin and teeth catching him, her velvet dragging along him as he pulled back. Goddamn, she was hot. The fire in his black eyes got brighter as he watched her hungrily. She'd better heal up quick and get ready for more.
"Brazen," their baby girl said, and he cooled and softened, bending down again to rub her little shoulders. "Good girl, baby. Brazen." Such a damn good girl. "Like Dagen," he said, looking over at his grumpy momma's boy with just as much affection. He didn't mind that his boy was more hers. He liked it, actually. As if another copy of him could be guarding her and loving her even when he had to be away, even from his own daddy.
His girl arrived, his Briella. Something wasn't quite right and he frowned, sharp gaze trained on her. She was growing, but of course that was a good thing. She was gradually filling out, her hair lightening to a brighter blond, her movements more graceful. There was a fog in her breath, though, and ice in tangled in her hair.
"Briella?" he asked, tensed and needing to walk to her, to touch her, to make sure she was alright. But he was afraid to displace baby Brazen, so surprised at the miracle that she wanted to be in his arms after his first child had rejected him so painfully. He shifted restlessly, remaining where he was though. "Are you hurt, baby?" he asked Briella with a tight voice, prepared to fuck up whoever or whatever had caused her any pain.
He gestured her closer, wanting to have her near to look over her. With a secret anxiety, he also wanted to see if she liked the twins, if she thought they were as beautiful as he did, if she approved of them. How would she feel about becoming an older sister? Would he lose her like he lost his first child? He didn't think so. He hoped not. He didn't want to lose her.
those bright crooked stars, man they're howlin’ out thought you read them all right, had them all figured out
It was admittedly more difficult to hold on to his tight grip of the juvenile anger each time Mom touched him, her lips brushing through his mane and that soft look of love and adoration in her eyes. His demeanor changed for her, peeking back up at her with a smile and shining eyes, his body relaxing. He felt so complete when he could see that she was so pleased with him.
Brazen, though.
Honestly he was beginning to ache for her. She'd always been right there beside him, pressed in close and sharing what space they had, and now she seemed so far away. Dad wasn't laying all that far from them, and somehow with her resting with him it felt so damn far away to Dagen. He curled in tight and stayed glued to Mom, watching his twin with quiet longing. Could she come back to him soon? He was too prideful to go to her, determined not to reward Dad by giving in and going near him when he kept stealing Mom-time like that.
Mom did seem happy with him though, Dagen would admit that to himself at least. So he supposed Dad could stay. So long as she was happy, at least. And Brazen too.
He wouldn't admit to the jealousy swelling up sharply when Brazen played with Dad like that.
Then there was another girl and he perked up curiously, keeping his head down but sliding his cool gaze to her. She didn't look like them, wasn't black or blue or white or red. Except her hair was white, though. He lifted his head and watched her, glancing at Mom for her reaction to this new one because he could be mean if they didn't like it. He would for her. Even if the girl was kinda pretty in the way her hair contrasted so stark against her skin.
learned every constellation, just to find where you're at
Her lips twitch in amusement as Brazen makes her displeasure known too. Her blue gaze settles on the red and white filly for a moment as she snuggles closer to her father. It’s strange almost, to know such contentment. She knows it cannot last, but for the first time in her life she understands why so many seek out this very thing. She hadn’t thought it in her nature, had thought herself so immune.
She should know better, of course. A foible of hers, it seems, to be so willfully ignorant of her own heart.
It’s surprisingly easy to lose herself in the moment. To forget for a time that there is so much happening beyond the relatively safe confines of their tiny haven here. Until reality intrudes with the arrival of Briella. First she knows relief. Ether had found her. Had brought her home. Then concern. Because Briella has grown. Too rapidly.
“Briella,” she says softly, her concern evident. No matter how she’d felt when Dovev had brought her to Nerine, she had grown to greatly care for her. Had come to think of her as hers as much as she is Dovev’s. They had spent too much time together not to, the chestnut filly alongside her as the twins had grown within her. Their relation might not be of blood, but she is hers as much as these children are.
It takes her no more than a moment to reach out, to see. But it does not assuage her concerns. The void that had swallowed her those many, many years ago had left its mark. Something Heartfire, for all her ability, could do very little about. “You’re growing,” she finally says, answering the confusion she had expressed. It is not a whole answer, but Heartfire can think of no better explanation. She is growing too fast. But then, it is a strange magic that had deposited her here.
She is distracted however, when Brazen speaks. Her blue gaze jumps to her daughter’s sweet little face. “I am Brazen,” she says, a little frown marking her features, before she continues in a mutter, “Ynctlios. Nyctlios.” She shakes her head then, before a grin brightens her face. “Lio!” She falls silent for a moment then.
“Brazen?” Heartfire asks softly, concerned.
“We’re not fighting,” she insists, causing a frown to tug at Heartfire’s features as well. She reaches forward, touches her daughter’s shoulder as she stretches her sight. Nothing. Only them, here and now. She digs deeper, until she catches glimpses of a cave, the ocean. A beach that belongs to neither the island or Nerine.
Brazen’s gaze jumps to her, and she smiles broadly, blue eyes clear and bright. “Momma and Daddy,” she announces proudly then, before settling against Dovev with a soft sigh. “Tired.”
The blue and white mare stares at her, impossibly still for a moment, mind clicking over the possibilities. She casts her sight out, seeking for several long moments. Until it becomes clear there is no immediate danger. That whatever had done this to her daughter is not close, nor immediately apparent. “Brazen,” she says again, more firmly. “Who are you talking to?”
She blinks sleepily at her, blithely unaware. “Lio,” she mumbles. “Lio is… friend.” She sighs, eyes drooping as she tucks her head against Dovev’s knee and closes her eyes. Heartfire’s features still as she turns her gaze to the bone-armored stallion, saying nothing further.
cold in the violence after the war hope is a fire to keep us warm
With a happy little hum, she settles against Dad as his attention shifts to the pretty mare that now approaches them. Her face is openly curious, not nearly so suspicious as Dagen. She looks at her twin, missing him a little bit. But he’d tried to bite her! Maybe if he acted at least a little sorry, but she couldn’t possibly let him know she missed him when he was so rude.
Mommy and Daddy are fussing over the new girl then. Briella, they’d said. She eyes her with wary curiosity, wondering who she is to them. Dagen seems to be wondering the same thing too though, the way he kept looking at Momma like that.
Suddenly she frowns as the clamor in her head becomes more insistent. Brazen. Nyctelios. Confusion.“I am Brazen,” she announces, telling them in no uncertain terms she is Brazen and not he. But he seems to grow a little clearer then, his name sounding out as she frowns at him. “Ynctlios,” she tries a repeat, the syllables getting all jumbled. “Nyctlios.” She tries again, but still they seem to trip in her mouth. She huffs silently, as she tries to translate the word across her tongue. Nyyyyccctttteeellliiiiiiooooooos. “Lio!” she shouts in sudden inspiration. Yes, she would call him Lio. Way better.
Please stop fighting.
She frowns, little brows furrowing in confusion. “We’re not fighting,” she insists with a little humph. Why he would think they’re fighting is beyond her. When Momma touches her shoulder, she looks up, blue eyes wide and innocent as a happy grin curves her lips. It’s so nice here, all snuggled with Mom and Dad, and when Lio asks who they are, she replies brightly, “Momma and Daddy!”
All the excitement is starting to make her a bit sleepy, and she blinks around her for a moment before her gaze lands longingly on Dagen. She really wished he’d come nap with her. But he seems so content curled up next to Momma. With a sigh, she snuggles deeper into Daddy’s warm chest, head drooping as she murmurs, “Tired.” Whether it’s said for her parents or Lio’s benefit, she’s not quite sure.
Momma is silent for a moment, but then she’s asking her something rather insistently. Brazen is not quite sure why it’s so important, but it seems to bother her. She looks up at her Momma’s pretty dark face, blinking her eyes as she tries to focus. It takes her moment to register what she’d said, her grasp of words still not the best. “Lio,” she finally replies, head dropping a bit before she jerks it back. “Lio is” she yawns “friend.”
Another little breath escapes her lips as her head falls against her Daddy’s knee, drifting peacefully, innocently, into sleep.
your eyes are lined in pain, black tears don't hide in rain
She has pain in places where he body has stretched: legs that ache and all the damning soreness of age come too quickly. Briella wobbles and yet? She is supported as Dovev rushed and preens- as he supports her weight and she can feel the familiar bones and blood… the warmth. “There was a moment when the shadows opened up and I felt something change,” she blinks- peering at Heartfire and Dovev with those wide pale blue eyes. “Suddenly my legs were long, I felt less clumsy; but more so. It hurts so much. I don’t what’s happening but everything feels different.”
Heartfire is right, she’s growing- she’s changing, rapidly at that.
“Growing? I… I hadn’t… there was no aging in the Beyond- in the Void.” she pauses, thinking about the reality, no longer was she touched by the magic of the void: by the preservation and loss of time. Glancing up at her would-be-parents she glances to the children and blinks.
The Twins are small and soft, young and she feels a bubbling warmth in her, staggering forward and approaching Dagen first. She is sloppy in the way she musses his hair, sniffs and kisses his forehead: ruffling between the ears and almost immediately does the same for Brazen: even with her rambling and wild stories.
As if driven by impossible pain, she steps away though, slowly leaning downing and resting. “It just keeps hurting.” she murmurs, half-asleep from physical exhaustion.
