"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
Nayl’s voice is a trumpet, a blaring noise that carries on the salty wind. It dives down the cliffside, echoes along the walls of the caves, and spans out across the sand dunes lining the borders of their home. The sound of beckoning reaches the corners of Nerine, summoning all of them to the local place of the beach, an area that so many wander along when the trail of their minds reach otherworldly reaches. It’s here that one may lose themselves to the lull of the waves and the seagulls, where all you are surrounded with is the tranquility of the world.
With the arrival of autumn, there is a cool bitterness in the air. It cuts along Nayl’s skin like razors, and she peers down to Castile to see how he has adapted to both climate and life. The boy is seemingly unfazed, his mismatched eyes tracing along the glittering ocean waves to the horizon as it paints the sky with colors of fire. A gentle nose glides along the top of his head and he looks up at mother, but otherwise remains quiet, knowing well that mother cannot coddle him as she settles that crown delicately upon her head once more.
As they arrive, one by one, the boy nearly joins them in their ranks until Nayl keeps him at her side, a mirror image of herself with pride gleaming in her fiery eyes.
”It has been a while,” she admits coolly, but this isn’t a bad thing. She doesn’t pester them with monthly meetings filled with babble and uselessness. Instead, Nayl has bided her time until there was enough to share, enough to address among them. Finally, it has happened and her thoughts have gathered.
”I never addressed new members as there have been many, just as there have been many of the originals that have since vanished,” she trails off very briefly as she considers Naga, Lagertha, Sunday, and the rest. ”As far as females go, there is Carwyn, Cassady, Heartfire, Marjorie, Neoma, and Lumi. In regards to males, there is Brennen and Orion’s Belt.” A smile slips across her velvety lips, but then she glides along like an ice skater, her voice fluid and effortless. ”I also never officially told you all that we have a subkingdom of sorts. A couple years ago, Djinni peacefully overtook Sylva in the name of Nerine. They needed a leader and she has thus proven to be a strong one, alongside our very own Stillwater.” His name is bitter on her tongue, but she doesn’t allow it to stop her or to create pause and question. ”Other than that, we’ve yet to officially create any diplomacy among the other lands. If you haven’t yet visited the other lands, I recommend you do so; you need to acclimate yourself to your surroundings and home. Do not offer any alliances; simply learn what you can and see what lies outside of Nerine’s walls.”
That had been her initial assignment for herself upon ascending the throne. Nayl paid every land a visit, introduced herself, and drank the information she was offered – desperate to learn. Things have since changed (she thinks of Magnus seemingly stepping away from his throne) but she doesn’t tell them this; she encourages their minds to hungrily reach out to learn just as hers had.
”Now, ranks.” A coy grin tips up the corners of her mouth, her eyes slowly blinking underneath a veil of forelock that cascades down her pretty face. ”Djinni, as you know, is our Mage. Additionally, she, along with Heartfire, have been promoted. What we originally had separated in different castes has now been combined. You will gain rank through any means possible whether that is fighting, stealing, recruiting, gaining information of past and/or present, or simply being an active part in Nerine’s welfare. All efforts will be rewarded. With time and vigilance, it may earn you a place in a top tier; for the time being, they are named as the Militarist and Historian, but the title may change based on your strengths or preferences.” Their ranks aren’t carved into the cave walls; they are dynamic, changeable, moldable. ”Now, we also have a rank system for the stallions. There will be a top rank in which Lior now presides alone. Below him is Brennen.” Her eyes dart across their faces then down to the boy at her side. ”My son, Castile, and any son of Nerine that wishes to remain here will eventually find themselves in a rank as gladiator. It seems we’ve let stallions among us, but they do nothing. That changes. To stay, a brief fight will be had once every one or couple years. The stallions are a line of defense for Nerine; therefore, they, too, need to hone their skills. They will battle to determine who wins favor to remain here.” The idea itself intrigues her, her voice brimming with an inner fire.
”Is there further initiative or prize that you can think of? I was playing with the idea that after so many victories, you become a veteran and spared further fighting unless you choose to still take part.” The option of breeding rights had crossed her mind, but no one in Nerine is an object for sex – male or female – and so the idea quickly dissolved.
”Do you have questions or suggestions?” She finally asks them all, her gaze swiftly finding each of them.
Her children are growing swiftly, more independent now than once they had been. And this leaves her a bit more at loose ends. She had not expected twins (though perhaps she should have, given who she had chosen to have children with), and she had found them a bit more… time consuming than she might have expected. Perhaps if she cared a bit less, she might have simply let them go off and given it no additional thought, but family has always been her weakness.
However, by the time Nayl calls them all for a meeting, she finds herself surprisingly free. With Rapture and Longclaw now old enough to be largely on their own, she is once more left with little to occupy her time but those previous pursuits that had so wholly consumed her before. And she finds herself quite ready to resume them. She loves her children, but she is quite certain this is an experience she will not be repeating any time soon. Her own mother and father might enjoy nothing more than having children always underfoot, but she can say with certainty she is not, in any way, similar in that regard.
So she responds with a fair amount of alacrity to the summons.
She knows everyone in the kingdom by now, having snooped quite thoroughly. Of course, she would be rather remiss had she not, even with two boisterous foals to keep track of. She would never be so distracted that she could not keep an eye on the doings of her own kingdom. Ever curious however, she peruses those who have gathered, keeping an ear on Nayl as she begins speaking, addressing the new members and extolling the virtues of diplomacy. Though she keeps her own council for the time, any visits she made would be pure formality. She already knows far more about the other kingdoms than she could ever hope to learn by speaking to their members.
But as the queen continues, announcing her promotion and explaining the changes to the ranks, a small, brief smile plays with the blue and white-laced mare’s lips. Oh, this could definitely be interesting. She waits until Nayl finishes, asking if there are any questions, before Heartfire interjects. ”I’ve no opinion on the battling, I’m not a warrior, but if you seek information, I am happy to provide. I will visit kingdoms, but I have other… more efficient means of gathering intel. Anything in particular you’d care to know?”
heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts
Gathered amongst the others he looks upon their Queen as she spoke. Words of the way of the lands, new and old. Changes to come and kingdom names he has yet to learn. He stands alert and at attention. Blue gaze not straying from her lips. His mind retains the info provided. Thinking of any potential questions but none come forward. As she paused for others to voice in, anothers voice arose. His attention shifting to her as she spoke of her duties to her Queen. He smiled casually as she finished and waited for any others to speak...
The demand is clear. The purple roan girl responds with immediacy, because she knows they will have to go on foot. Calling her son to her, she sets off across the sand to join the small group around the Queen, looking around the group as she settles, reaching out to draw Puce close to her side, watching them to look for another who looks at him funny. Daring them with sparking eyes and a scowl to say anything about his condition:
Cassie had grown up mostly isolated in the Tundra, but she remembers when Kellyn had tried to move them to the Dale, while her own flesh peeled and cracked. It was relatively unpleasant to live like that, and she can't help but wish he had not gotten it from her. Of course, the fae had taken that along with everything else, and for now she is whole in a way she had never been.
She listens to Nayl's words, still undecided whether she will pursue any rank, and glances at her grandfather when Nayl mentions the men. Her life had been next to useless in the Tundra, but her son's life is next to useless here. Some day soon, he will have to make the choice she always dreaded: live in the only home he will have ever known, as a second-class citizen, or leave. For a long moment, dark eyes flicking between Nayl and Brennen, Cassie wonders if she should have gone somewhere else. To her mother perhaps, or anywhere else.
But they are already here, all of the family she has ever known. And it seems even the Queen's son will
Not be exempt.
Cassie also wonders why Nayl does not just carve out a place in the subkingdom of Sylva for the prince.
But she has nothing to to offer, so she simply waits among them.
She leaves her own son by the water; he is happier there anyway.
Djinni takes a place near the edge of the assembled group, the better to watch them all. When she catches sight of Heartfire, her dark face lights up in a bright grin. She’s glad the other female is still here, gladder still that she offers up her skills so easily to Nayl. Djinni is grateful for their queen; the orange-eyed mare embodies the embrace of responsibility that Djinni has always admired from afar.
“I’ll be going to Taiga,” she adds when the time is right. There are more details yet to be worked out; she will share her findings with Nayl in time.
The idea of gladiators is intriguing though, “Will outside stallions be able to participate in the competitions? Or must they live in Nerine?”
Nayl regards each of them as they assemble at her word, their eyes trained on her curiously. It has been months – years? – since she last called them all to her. She keeps it minimal, never wanting to stop them from living and from ensuring Nerine’s success.
There is hardly a grin on her face, her expression stoic, appropriate for an iron queen with a fist enthusiastically slamming down. They listen, but few ask questions. This actually surprises her, but she doesn’t allow it to be reflected. Her forelock cascades down her face like a curtain, concealing her fiery eyes as they dance. One by one before she briefly glances to Castile, then to Heartfire. ”I’ve heard there are new lands beside the Lake. See if you can find anything about them.” A silent consideration allows her to mull over the lackluster details that may ensue, and so she adds, ”and see whether Pangea is up to anything yet. They don’t pose a threat, but I still want to be very aware of our immediate neighbors.” They share that invisible wall. They are only miles away from where they currently stand, and that would make anyone uneasy and hypervigilant.
”Orion’s Belt,” she says with a voice of smooth ice while turning her attention to him, ”help recruit some stallions and perhaps we can have our first gladiator battle.” A coy grin touches the corners of her lips, finally. Despite the oddity of the request – stallions tossed into a pen to fight for their citizenship – she can’t help but suppress the eagerness in seeing this all transpire one day soon.
But the appearance – and voice – of Djinni jerks Nayl’s attention away from the quieted male. A wave of relief and comfort washes across the queen, the friendship between them evident and always reassuring. ”I look forward to what news you bring back from Taiga,” because the genie is always scheming, always thinking of ways to strengthen their home in uncustomary ways. ”I would imagine only stallions wanting to live here would want to take part, but if any male is looking for the experience, then I don’t see why they can’t participate.” A shrug ripples through her shoulders then, and she lets the reply consume the brief silence before she adds to them all, ”You may also fight for positions. It doesn’t necessarily have to be a fight in the battlegrounds. If you want a position someone has, or if you and someone else think you’d be a strong candidate for a position, you may issue a challenge. It could be a battle of strength, or of wit, or anything else. Hell, it could be a race if you want. It should keep everyone on their toes and fairly well-rounded.” She searches them for reactions while her ears reach for their voices. ”Any other questions or propositions?”
His darkness drips across the pristine white and smoky edges of the queen. He remains quiet as he takes her side, mercury eyes possessing her form for only a moment before he looks out to the faces (some old and some new) to memorize those who answer Nayl's call. Lior remains suspicious but he is willing to see through whatever the painted queen had in mind.
He does not care if they recognize him, balk at him, or embrace him. The stallion is the queensguard above almost all else. Steel gaze slips to watch their spirited child. A smile touches his lips at the sight of his happy boy, his heart flitting in the wave of pride that washes over him. Lior remains quiet, letting Nayl speak (she was always much better at conversation than he would ever be) and so he remains like a dark shadow at her side, watching and listening.
I want you to remember
sorry this is so short! just wanted to get something up so if anyone wanted to meet the ole sport.
