"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
09-10-2016, 01:24 AM (This post was last modified: 09-10-2016, 01:26 AM by Altaira.)
Snow. Once something Altaira had cherished, but now brought back cruel memories. She would always remember when the pure substance had turned crimson with the blood of her beloved. But that was of the past, and the paint refused to look back on it, desperately fighting the flashes of the scene that had lain before her a year back. Damn them. Damn the merciless. Altaira was damning herself, but truly she didn't care. It made sense to do so. The lady had been damned from her first breath. Five years later, and she still was, even more so than before. Such a shame.
It was this fact that kept the mare from being a sniveling mess. Altaira was anything but that. She was the picture of deception. A beautiful, charming gal who could sweep just about any off their feet with a soft laugh and intriguing smile. It was mainly a facade. To draw others into her clutches. She still felt genuine feelings, but it was a rare occurrence. The mare was the perfect example of a classy lady, but she'd step on another's skull to get what she so desired. Oh Altaira, always the trouble maker. Always the adored. Here she was though, not a soul in the world knew her or adored her anymore. She simply trekked through the impossible snow, red coat clashing with the blank ground.
Horses splattered the land, despite the weather. Winter was a necessity. It cleared the weak to bring back the strong. In all honesty it was quite beautiful. The sun had risen not too long ago, casting a pretty gleam over the white field. The mare meandered the space with her head held high, but not overly so. It was clear she wasn't shy, or uncomfortable in anyway. She had become accustomed to being alone. She didn't mind the presence of another. But she did not need it. Once Altaira found her spot, her movement ceased. The paint, left to her own devices, simply surveyed the population among her. Who knows, they may become familiar faces in the future.
OOC: Bleck. Excuse this terrible starter. Just trying to throw her out there ^.^
Ashley knew a bit or two about anonymity. Having been gone from these lands for more than a century afforded him a bit of masking to those who were more familiar with the current sources of power. While this mildly irritated him, it allowed him to go back and forth between flexing his muscles and throwing his weight around, to simply being a man without a face—without a motive, and without seemingly a world that wanted him to prove once again who he was in the face and shadow of the mountain that lingered at the long end of the meadow.
He had recently found himself in the company of the former queen who had promised them safety and security—and she had seen to it. He had made her a promise of his protection and help, and she had delivered to them a place of refuge. An Island that they had named Ischia, one that glows blue by night and can afford the safety and seclusion they had wanted from the Dale before it had been plunged into the sea. Ashley was loyal—despite his agitation with his current state—and had the swim back to the mainland (despite the path that had been set up for them) to once again make his supplications to the all-mother who rested at the summit. His magic was stored there, and he intended to get it back. His grasp, his source of power, his dignity of self—it would all be returned to him in full. The fairies owed him that.
But he had to cross the fields to get there first, and his eyes were caught by the red splash of color that tore its way across the clean unfettered snow, before he notices she comes to a halt and looks around, almost reveling in something—though he is not sure what. Ashley himself is a golden yellow with reddish brown points and hair to match. You know what they say—don’t eat yellow snow.. or something like that.
However, as the breeze picks up and the snow is picked up and swirls around Ashley’s head as he makes his way slowly to her, he is aware that her scent is unfamiliar, almost foreign. Perhaps, of all the ones he already doesn’t know here, she is, truly new? Blinking, his long lashes filter out the snow to prevent snow blindness as he makes his way in her direction, stopping a full length from her, his tail and mane blowing up around his face, and he speaks. “What a perfectly frozen day we are having today. My name is Ashley.”
The lack of attention she was receiving was quite nice. Her previous place of living was always buzzing with mention of the mare. The one who had gone insane. But here. Here was a place of completely new people. The land was alien to her. And she was an alien to the land. Beautiful new beginnings. New starts had been played up so much, and had become something of cliché, but Altaira was not a cliché woman. She was very much for blazing her own trail and doing what she wanted. Not a damsel in distress by any means. She was always a very proud gal.
A lovely gold coat drew blue eyes to it, but subtly. The mare didn't want to swivel her head in the direction of the man, not wanting to draw too much attention to her notice of him. Yellow against snow, never a great thing. Altaira lips quirked in the slightest of a smile, memories of lessons taught to her young one before it disappeared. It was clear then that his path was directed towards her. The stallion was only a bit taller than her and quite handsome. She could always appreciate a beautiful individual. He was clearly from this land. Perhaps he was aware she was new. Maybe he was a recruiter for a herd. Or perhaps he was just walking through and was looking for some conversation, friendly or not. What a perfectly frozen day we are having today. My name is Ashley. He seemed to be polite, she didn't feel any undertones of malice, so she kept herself charming and nice as well. Oh yes, winter brings days like these. Altaira's voice was the slightest bit teasing, melodic and a bit low. Pleased to meet you Ashley. I'm Altaira. How have you been this lovely morning? Altaira smiled slightly in a curious manner. This was not Altaira's true, laidback personality. This was formalities. This was all small talk, something the vixen hadn't taken part in a long time.
The formalities of life were something that Ashley was quite familiar with. He had grown up with political formality his entire existence—he had known nothing else. Given an experience to be himself, Ashley always naturally reverted to this status. Being able to talk to anyone, regardless of station, without level of commitment. Getting the job done, so to speak. But for this woman to eye him with a suspicious glint in her eyes, It was almost as if she were making fun of him, and not giving him the fullness of herself, either.
This was not a game he was used to seeing from others. With those he didn’t know, he was always formal; it was just part of who he was. But they always took him at face value. To have someone not give him what he was used to seeing, Ashley made a face that said he was mildly amused at her tone of voice, and he shook his head, the sound of shells knocking together to create a sort of “windchime” sound. It was evidence of his time spent in the ocean of late—his sense of peace. The salt that still coated his pelt gave him an odor that perhaps he should bathe off, but he found that forsaking his usual royal exterior was something that suited him. At least for the time being. “It actually is quite a lovely morning. I have been swimming today. Cold, but invigorating. I find that it clears the senses.”
The mare found herself to be clear of judgement. This had come from her earlier days. Once a soft babe that cherished every creature for who they were, she still found herself with an open mind towards other creatures. This is most likely what saved her from being a lunatic mare, always on edge and ready to attack. She had been brought up to be a regal horse, inviting at first. This stallion seemed to be the same way. The shells that were housed in his tresses were mere details to her. The ocean was something she rarely came across, and perhaps she'd like to see it in all it's glory sometime soon. Maybe he could show her.
It actually is quite a lovely morning. I have been swimming today. Cold, but invigorating. I find that it clears the senses. Her blue eyes widened the slightest bit, a slight quirk to her lips. Swimming. Aren't you a brave soul. I always thought if one went swimming in the ocean in winter, they were bound to freeze up and drown. It was a common thought since the ocean was always so cold. Maybe it was the humans who froze up. Internally, she shook her head at herself. Something her father had once put in her mind just to confuse the girl. I have never been one for swimming myself. I'm sure it wakes you up as well as clears your senses. Altaira hummed the slightest bit, her voice still low, not shrill and loud. It had the slightest bit of huskiness, an alluring noise. Her voice had always stayed the same for the most part, in a calm situation, softer and ready to draw in, powerful and commanding in other situations. She reserved the latter for more difficult times. Was this your final destination? Or were you on your way to another place? She inquired curiously, attempting at creating more of a conversation, one she hoped to continue with the man.
His final destination was always the same—he was heading for the mountain. The place at the very end of the world—that they knew of, so far—that held all their abilities to unlock the world that they once knew. In his case, it was his very soul that he sought. His magic, his rich blood that took his heritage back to the very earliest days of his birthing on this homeland. This, and more, was what he saught. He had been up there once, to speak to them, the fairies. Ea had been given a home to the far north, and yet it was one that was free of snow. Instead, he made the swim through the waters that remained unfrozen—perhaps another gift from the All-mother—and relatively pleasant for the swim back and forth from Ischia to the Mainland. “The magic of this land allows all those who are going to and from the island to be allowed to walk the path provided. It opens up magically when you begin, and closes when you reach my home. I on the other hand—I prefer to swim.”
He turned slightly, lowered his head, and wuffed away the snow from the patch of grass at his feet, before taking in the shoots that were growing there. Preparing for spring, the whole world was sleeping at the moment. The Fairies had also taken it upon their nature to extend their seasons, and so while the mares were dropping their young, they were being born into the coldness of winter, protect as if it were another gift and not the cruel suffering of the fairies subjugating the inhabitants of this land. “As for my destination, I was heading to the summit of the mountain. Finding myself interrupted for one reason or another, I gladly take the swim once or twice a day now, just to keep my mind on the focus. The end game. I have much to atone for—so they say. What about you? Are you seeking shelter from this eternal blizzard? If you are, Ischia awaits…”
The magic of this land allows all those who are going to and from the island to be allowed to walk the path provided. It opens up magically when you begin, and closes when you reach my home. I on the other hand—I prefer to swim. Altaira's deep blue eyes watched him, glimmering slightly with an unclear emotion. Once she processed the other's words, she laughed. It wasn't a particular loud or booming laugh, but it held mirth at his words. She was not laughing at him, merely what he said. Well, as they say. To each their own. It must keep you healthy and strong. Her words held the same amused tone that her laughter did. She gently shook her head, shoulder length mane becoming tousled before it settled against her pelt.
She momentarily watched him graze before looking up, taking in the pretty land. Altaira felt there was a possibility he had grown bored with her presence, but she didn't really care. He was the one who approached her, not the other way. It was true she was a bit rusty at communication. Not many horses jumped at the chance to speak with a murderer. As for my destination, I was heading to the summit of the mountain. Finding myself interrupted for one reason or another, I gladly take the swim once or twice a day now, just to keep my mind on the focus. The end game. I have much to atone for—so they say. What about you? Are you seeking shelter from this eternal blizzard? If you are, Ischia awaits… His words broke her out of her thoughts, and her eyes flickered over to him. Ischia. She tried the word out on her tongue in a murmur. From his previous words, she pictured the island, something she didn't remember seeing often. Hmmm. Ashley seemed to be a fair man, and there may be others she could get to know. Perhaps it would be good to try being a part of a herd again. If you don't mind having me. It was an unspoken acceptance, words giving enough to show that she would like to follow him to his home. It never hurt to try.
He nodded his head in her direction. Clearly she was unfamiliar with men of his caliber of power. To be immortal, and to be able to choose your shape at will, without the need for exercise or time spent doing much of anything else. His days were eternal. He was, in essence, forever. He was just a broken man working through is frustrations with the world around him.. because clearly being born royal and a magician and then having them taken away from him was not enough of an entitled life.
He looked at Altaira then, and giving her a sardonic look, he put away this entitlement frustration away, and tried his best to portray the role of the normal man.“Yes. One must always work the muscles if they want to live a long and healthy life.” He tried to keep his face straight, but he wasn’t sure how well he did. He would keep his abilities from her as long as possible, if it meant at least being normal to someone. Perhaps he could, just this once, pretend to be one of them.
Ashley remembered why he was back on the mainland, and when it appeared that perhaps she was not going to make the swim, or take the path that he had offered, he thought very strongly about taking his leave from her to make his way up the mountain. Perhaps it was time. To finally make the trek up to have the fairies explain to him why this travesty had to be brought upon the entire land. Was the world of the Sunrise so corrupt that the whole thing had to be thrown asunder? It was a question that he was not sure had been asked, but he intended to find out. And he intended to get his magic back. However, he is shocked when he realizes that she is volunteering to come with him. Altaira tests the name of the island on her tongue. He nods, taking a sigh and turning his body back towards the coast, from whence he came. “Come then, Altaira,” Ashley says. “Your new home awaits.”
