"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 had not taken Beyza long to pick herself off the beach, but that small moment of hesitation and weakness prickled at her like an open wound. She was impatient with her tears, her inability to speak, and her magic being stilled by her time in the afterlife. One of these things would be annoying but together they were driving her mad. Beyza knows too that she has carried something back from that otherworld, can feel it like a rotten core within her, but of all the things troubling her that is not one.
She wanted comfort, and though she thought briefly of finding any of her trio of parents or her twin, ultimately Beyza travelled home to Pangea to seek her mentor - which is where she wanders now.
There is a particular brand of comfort she craves and it cannot be found in the kindness of her family. And there is a dilemma in her heart and she knows who to go to for the answer she wants.
She cannot call out to Anaxarete so she merely walks and wishes to see the shadow mare materialize before her, each step causing her frustration to grow as her mind becomes a storm. The emotions she used to find so easy to box up and store away now running free and sowing chaos as she limps on.
09-12-2020, 06:02 PM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2020, 06:02 PM by Anaxarete.)
HELLO DARKNESS, MY OLD FRIEND
She could feel Beyza’s desire almost as if she had called out her name.
So the shadowmare comes to her.
And when she arrives, she understands why it is that Beyza has come. “You have been beyond the Veil,” the shadowmare says simply, acknowledging that she does understand. She can sense the change in the girl’s magic, and Anaxerete does not need Beyza to ask before she acts.
The shadows leech from the shadowmare – crawling along the sandy Pangean soil until they’ve encircled the girl. The dark shadows slowly rise, twisting as they swirl around Beyza’s pure white form until she is completely encircled in a dark globe of swirling shadows. Anaxarete’s eyes slide shut as she concentrates. Some actions are easy – but this level of magic is difficult. There is finesse involved with healing another’s magic, especially when the injury has been inflicted by magic as well. The globe of shadows slowly begins to constrict until they lie just against Beyza’s skin – turning the girl something other than white for perhaps the first time in her life.
And then, as the shadowmare exhales, the shadows seep beneath Beyza’s skin – healing what has been broken. Or at least what was within Anaxarete’s capacity to heal. ”I’ve done what I can,” the shadowmare says, her voice matter of fact but not as cold as what was usually regarded as her normal. ”Your voice will return in time but your magic has healed. You can use telepathy to communicate. You might have some trouble with control as you heal.” It was normal for any magician, after the ordeal she’d been through, to experience hiccups. The shadowmare had taken the liberty to heal the physical wounds as well – but she cannot touch the parasite within.
Anaxarete did not probe Beyza’s memories of her experience. She would not violate the girl in such a way – especially not one she held in such high regard. But she does not leave the girl after the healing is complete. ”You can tell me what happened or nothing at all – but I will always be here to help you, Beyza.”
There hadn’t been any doubt that Ana would arrive, but Beyza is grateful that it happens so soon and her weary body comes to a stop. She doesn’t flinch away from the shadows even though they are the antithesis of everything she is. They don’t always love her but she has a fondness for them and she closes her eyes as they close around her in a globe.
Her trust in her mentor is absolute.
There’s no shortage of relief when they touch her skin and that’s when she opens her eyes, marvelling at the swirling darkness across her skin and the novelty of seeing something other than blinding white when she looks down at herself. Then it seeps into her, bringing back the white and bringing relief with it.
“Thank you.” She pushes the thought out to Anaxarete with no shortage of gratitude.
And truthfully, Beyza requires little encouragement. The images and thoughts pour of her so that she is showing Anaxarete as much as she is telling her - the fog, the way Jamie had shifted and changed, the demon-creatures they had seen in the Otherworld and how they had torn Beyza apart. She didn’t know how much she needed to share these thoughts with someone else, to have Anaxarete anchor her and tell her whether she was crazy for what she knew she needed to do.
But she thinks the shadow mare will understand.
“I was there with Jamie. He… he was Death.” There’s no fear in Beyza’s thoughts, only marvel - only fascination and admiration. “When I was young, I saved my sister and another filly - I didn’t mean to but I brought them back from death. And while I was behind the veil, Death - Jamie - bargained for me to replace the souls I took plus one more.”
And there it was - she had said it. Her thoughts are calm but there’s an edge of excitement there to be noticed for someone that knows her well.
The shadowmare is quiet as Beyza shows her what it was that she experienced beyond the veil. The shadowmare had her suspicions about who could have organized such a thing – send them beyond and brought them back. And in the flashes of Beyza’s memory she saw not just Jamie but Anomaly as well – so two of her children had taken this journey along with her young protégé. But she suspected that each one of them would have a strikingly different story to tell.
The sight of otherworldly creatures so different from her own is unsettling, to say the least. Part of her is curious – curious if these creatures could be tamed by magic if they ever came to Beqanna. But part of her is wary for surely if that were the case there would have been no reason to send volunteers beyond the veil for this little…experiment. There was a flicker of worry if perhaps something else had been opened – last time the veil had been opened the dead had been allowed to walk Beqanna. What damage had been done this time?
But the more specific parts of the journey that Beyza shows her – the parts that weigh on her still – are not the ones that draw the shadowmare’s attention. However, she can see why they’ve drawn Beyza’s thoughts and why she lingers on them. She knows the girl is close with both of her children, but it is obvious that she is unaware of Anomaly’s role in her story. Anomaly – her daughter who had perhaps been the precursor that lead her to assist in the creation of Beyza herself. But that’s a story for another day.
She isn’t surprised that the girl’s thoughts linger on death – on the struggle to justify it. But she waits for Beyza to finish before she speaks.
“I have. Both directly and indirectly,” her voice is matter of fact, but there is no regret in her voice – no real emotion of any kind. “But I like to think that I do not waste life that is valuable. But a good example is to consider Ripley and her kin. Ripley has been bound to me since she was born in this current form. I allow her some degree of control that she can exist in Beqanna – but she and the other xenomorphs must feed. I allow them to hunt. So those deaths I am indirectly responsible for, wouldn’t you agree? I could have killed Ripley that night instead, but I chose not to. And I do not regret my choice to do so.” A brief pause, and then she continues.
“But the girl you saved – the other fill that you spared from death that day. That was my daughter, Beyza. So you have saved my daughter and your sister from death – perhaps it is selfish of me but I find that to be more than just. There may be others that are less deserving of life – or others that are suffering - that you could send to death in their place. Surely that would be just in the end?” she muses, knowing that Beyza’s magic is tightly bound to the girl’s beliefs.
