"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
Nemeon watches with wariness as the glowing filly moves a little closer, thoughts of his radioactive family so fresh that he shifts a little nervously where he stands. He doesn’t step back, though he’s aware that he should. It was reckless of him to place himself in situations where he could hurt someone if the gap between them closed. Even just the chance of it made him feel guilty for talking to anyone at all - but it was hard enough being trapped in the night hours. Being forced to live in the dark without interacting with anyone else at all was torture - a lesson he had already learned.
But though he had not intended to step backwards, when the light of the filly blinks out soon that thought where he wished she wasn’t glowing, Nemeon startles back a step with a small shout of surprise. He blinks furiously, trying to force his eyes to become accustomed to the night once again in the absence of her light.
And while he adjusts, she tells him to wish for something else.
The grey colt frowns, but it’s just in consideration - he’s not yet caught onto the fact that she heard the wish in his thoughts. He's too busy thinking of what else he could wish for. The weight of the darkness feels oppressive in contrast to the light that had just been with them so he considers taking back his wish, or wishing for a little bit of light.
Only, there’s really only one wish he has - and he speaks it quietly while his golden eyes shine with desperate hope. “I wish I didn’t have to turn into a statue again in the morning.”
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
so don’t forget to love me in damnation
For the living i have earned on love gone wrong
It is the look in his eye when he says it that wounds her the most.
The look itself sinks into the meat of her heart like a blade and she grimaces against the physical ache that radiates outward from the center of her chest.
(This is not magic, this is simply her own, non-magic ability to empathize, though she has never wanted anything so badly as he wants this.)
She closes her eyes, as if she might actually be able to grant him this wish, too. Instead, she can feel herself change again. Subtly this time and she doesn’t open her eyes, like she’s afraid of what she’ll find when she does. There is no reason for her to change in order to grant him this wish, she thinks fiercely.
It is the heavy feel of wings that surprises her the most and she abruptly opens her eyes and turns her head to look at them. Gray, shot through with gold. She glances down at her shoulder, sees that this, too, is gray shot through with gold. She looks at him, wide-eyed, aware that she has become his mirror image.
But that’s not all. There is no light, but she stands there, illuminated as if by the sun. She can even feel its warmth as the invisible sun beats down on her.
And, in that moment, she hates whatever this magic is. Because this is the closest thing she can give him and it feels, even to her, like some kind of mockery.
“I’m sorry,” she says and there is an edge of desperation in her tone. Because they have only met but she considers him a friend already and she cannot stand the thought that he might think she has done this on purpose. “I can’t stop it,” she gasps. “I didn’t mean to.”
So wrapped up in his hope that this wish could come true, Nemeon is blindsided by how it actually manifests. He watches with wide eyes as familiar wings sprout from the filly’s sides and she turns into the mirror image of himself. And then sunlight - which he recognizes now because of her - illuminates her version while he stands across from her in the dark.
Nemeon is torn between wanting to run and wanting to step forward, wanting to touch his skin that coats the filly and know what it would feel like in the sun. The true horror of this moment, the cruelty of it, does not fully set in. He’s not even really seeing Anaise anymore, not in that moment where they were a couple of new friends. He’s too busy staring at her with wide, tear-filled eyes - not even daring to blink as he takes in his daylight-self. How that invisible light glints off of the gold on his skin. Skin and not stone.
She breathes under that light and it is so unfathomable to him.
He does take a step even though he knows better, even though he should stay as far away as possible. Her gasping words snap him out of his trance and Nemeon stops his nose from inching forward. He visibly recoils from the desperation in her apology and the shattering of his hopes as reality crashes in and he remembers he is not seeing just some vision but that there is a girl beneath the illusion.
It helps that she was not doing this on purpose but he still aches.
Nemeon turns his head away, unable to stand it anymore. He can’t form words but two warring wishes are racing through his mind with this hurt - I wish she’d stop and I wish she’d leave.
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
so don’t forget to love me in damnation
For the living i have earned on love gone wrong
The air is charged when he takes that step toward her. She can feel the tendrils of his radioactivity snaking out and brushing her nose, though she has no way of knowing that’s what it is. Not strong enough to make her feel any of its effects except a strange tingling in her skin.
Her heart hurls itself recklessly against its ribbed cage and she tries desperately to will herself back into her own body. But there is nothing she can do, no matter how fiercely she wants to. Internally she rages against it, her thoughts drowned out by a long scream of frustration, her breathing shallow.
No, no, no.
She can see the hurt pass across his face. She watches him turn away from her. It chases a strangled sound out of her mouth but there’s no sense in it, no words. Just a guttural grunt of frustration that almost sounds like a panicked sob.
Please, please, please.
It is the first time in her life she has ever known this kind of panic.
And then she is slammed back into her own body. Pale white and plunged back into the darkness and she releases a relieved breath. But her mind is already racing, wondering how she might make it up to him, convince him that she had not meant to hurt him.
Then she is nothing at all. Gone and panic seizes her again. Until she realizes that she can still breathe. She is still alive. She has not blinked out of existence altogether. She is only invisible. She is only gone as far as the rest of the world is concerned. She sucks in a sharp breath and moves to apologize again. But when she opens her mouth, no sound comes out at all.
The return of the white and green filly and then the absence of her draws his attention back to that spot, his tear-filled eyes accompanying a confused frown. The thoughts click into place and he realizes she must have heard the wishes that had been swirling inside of his mind.
First she had stopped, and then she had left. He stares at that spot where she had stood for a moment longer, finding that her absence hurts as much as the unintentional cruelty. Or the abruptness of the absence hurts - his pain is often scheduled, he could prepare himself for it if he knew how. He didn’t even know if Anaise was a friend or not but her leaving without a goodbye seems to answer that question well enough.
He feels guilty for those wishes now and does not know whether or not that guilt makes any sense.
A heavy, weary sigh escapes Nemeon and he turns away - his leathery wings folded tight against his sides as he goes to find either his sister or a spot to wait for the sun. Now he knows what he will look like when it finds him but there is no relief in this knowledge - but he may find some in the absence of being able to think at all during the day. For once, there is a part of this young boy looking forward to the nothingness that daylight will bring him.
Nemeon is radioactive
Those that touch him may experience metallic taste, nosebleed, nausea, headache, hair loss and/or skin lesions.
Symptoms become worse with prolonged exposure and onset is accelerated when exposed to his blood.
