"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
bitterness is thick like blood and cold as a wind sea breeze if you must drink of me, take of me what you please
There is a touch of amusement in his eyes, the creature of shadow and darkness’ thoughts beginning to press into his own consciousness. Woolf has never been a particularly attached creature. He recognizes that his power runs on his connections, but they are vast and far-reaching—the benefits of being connected to ever-expanding families on both sides of his family tree. The only soul that he has truly ever tied himself to, permanently, has been that of his full-sister and it’s not something that he believes Ether could truly understand. What lives between him and Bright is not just familial companionship.
In so many ways, they are one.
Her magic feeds into him and his into her.
Her breath fills his lungs. Her aches touch his bones.
No, not even his half-siblings could reach such a thing.
Still, they are some of the closest ties he has to his family, and thus his power source, and although he is a mostly apathetic creature, he is not entirely cruel. His eyes spark a little as the stallion steps back, as he stretches the darkness, the shadows morphing under his control. A muscle jumps in Woolf’s jaw but he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t show any sign of wariness. Instead he simply follows, moving through the door so that he can feel the sea breeze and taste the salt on his tongue before his eyes adjust to the light.
When they step through, the shadows collapse and before he knows it, his hooves leave the soft soil of the riverbanks for the harder cliffs overlooking Nerine’s many oceans. A kingdom he had promised to help although he had never deigned to lay his head there. Another thought for another day. For a second, Woolf looks to his brother, studies him and then shifts, looking for the reason he was called here at all.
woolf
I am loathed to say it's the devil's taste
@[Insane], i figured we could just pick it up here!
Golden eyes watching our every move Losing time without the sun or moon
The mage is silent as he steps through the portal into the seaside kingdom. Ether follows, flinching from the light into the subtle shadow he’d brought them through. His golden eyes follow the much more brightly colored stallion, curious and wary. He knows Heartfire is here, somewhere. He’d brought her, but he hasn’t the powerful senses she does. Cannot pinpoint a location with barely a thought. It’s why it had taken him so long to accomplish what he’d promised.
A reminder to be more careful with his words in the future.
She would find them though, he has no doubt. She would want to return to her children. Another promise he’d made without thought, agreeing to lend her aid in moving more quickly through her various tasks. It’d been thoughtless, perhaps, but that is what family does, is it not?
They haven’t been waiting long when a familiar blue figure is wending her way towards them. Her blue gaze is cool and watchful as she approaches, features unreadable. But Ether thinks she looks more wearied than she had earlier. A product of the illness that still lingers in her bones, as it does his. She’d been healed, he knows. But it would only last for so long, as they all now know, too well.
She had left Breckin only moments earlier, intending to return to her children when her casually flung sight finds them. She would’ve called Ether, but it seems she has no need. And somehow, he’d managed to find Woolf. He must know she’d been searching. If she were kinder, she might have given him the benefit of the doubt. But she is not, and she doesn’t doubt he must know she had nearly died. As awful and crowded as her children’s birth had been, even she recognizes the fortuitous arrival Leliana and Cress is all that had saved her from the ravages of plague and pregnancy.
He should hope then, that when he called on her to uphold her end of their bargain, his need is not dire.
Still, he is here now, holding on to the very tattered edges of their agreement. But it is enough, she supposes. Even she could recognize that, no matter her displeasure. She says nothing, however, merely drawing to a halt before him. Her gaze flicks briefly to Ether, motionless and silent in the lean shadows he’d brought them through. Her lips curve faintly, the slight smile the closest she would come to sisterly affection in such a moment. Still, it is far more recognition than she demonstrates in most situations.
When her gaze turns back to Woolf however, her features are once more cool and remotely pleasant. She is still on the thin side, a faint, barely noticeable rasp in her breath. Subtle evidence of the plague that continues to afflict her. Her posture is strong and sure however, refusing to betray any note of weakness. She stares at Woolf for a long moment, gaze inscrutable before she lifts her chin slightly and offers him a greeting. “So, you’ve finally deigned to come. Am I to assume then, that you have not forgotten me?”
12-15-2018, 06:51 PM (This post was last modified: 12-15-2018, 06:53 PM by woolf.)
bitterness is thick like blood and cold as a wind sea breeze if you must drink of me, take of me what you please
Their opinions of him mean little.
He has magic but he is not omniscient and although he would be able to feel if a family member truly passed through the veil, he cannot always feel if someone is close—especially if he is busy as he has been. Otherwise, with their far-reaching family, he would feel nothing but such close calls and encounters, especially with the buzz of the plague around them. Still, there is a part of him that wants to remind Heartfire that this was her deal—not his. She had never deigned to seek him out until she needed something from him and while he agreed, he was here to uphold his end of the bargain having asked nothing of her in return yet. To him, that is the closest to a brotherly affection that he can offer her.
But neither voice their opinions aloud and he doesn’t bother to rebut them, doesn’t have the energy or truly care enough to defend what he knows to be little honor. So instead he just watches her with a faint, amused glint in his eye. He studied her for a moment, a muscle jumping in his jaw slightly at her version of a greeting and giving her a tight smile. “Ether found me and I’m here.” Let that be enough.
He wasn’t some dog to be summoned.
Some well of magic to be called upon and commanded.
Still, although a wave of defiance rises up in him, a sharp edge of displeasure, he doesn’t turn his head and leave. He would think on why he remained later. Instead he just stands steadily, lips tight. He closes his eyes and slices open his shoulder, letting the blood of it run down the matted hide. He doesn’t bother to use their own blood. Doesn’t bother to touch it. Instead, he uses his own health, draws on it deeply.
Thin tendrils of purple light reach for them both, wrapping around them and then sinking into the flesh. They would feel a hint of warmth and—if he was successful, the loss of everything that ails them.
woolf
I am loathed to say it's the devil's taste
@[The Plague]
Woolf is attempting to heal @[Ether] and @[Heartfire] using his abilities as a blood mage.
She would never have gotten where she is if opinions mattered so much. Perhaps they are far too similar in that respect. In too many respects. So that he might be offended by hers bothers her little. She has always been blunt, speaking the truth as she sees it. He could correct her truth, but she suspects he will not. She is not infallible of course, but it’s likely more accurate than he cares to admit.
Still, he is family. And she has always had more regard for those related to her, even if they may not feel the same.
“You didn’t have to agree when I asked,” she advises mildly. But he had, though she leaves that part unsaid. Her eyes are sharp as she studies him, notes the irritation and displeasure. It’s clear he had never bothered to try knowing her. Of course, on the surface, it appears she hadn’t tried knowing him either. But only a fool would believe she hadn’t kept him in her sights.
She wouldn’t have been upset if he had declined her offer when she first made it. Indeed, she likely would’ve even helped him still, had he asked. She’d had little expectation of him then, other than that of a largely absent elder brother. Until he’d chosen to offer his loose allegiance to Nerine. Until she’d called on that agreement, thinking to help those in the kingdom and providing him something in return. She isn’t entirely selfish, and she knows him perhaps better than he cares to admit. She’d rarely seen him do anything that didn’t interest or benefit him in some way.
He had agreed though. And she had taken him at his word.
He is here now, and she recognizes he is holding to the letter of their bargain. He could renege, of course. Indeed, she would not retaliate in any way. It is his right, after all. But her trust is difficult to gain and easily lost. Perhaps it seems insignificant now, but she has a long reach. He must know by now she does not play a short game.
As his power filters through her, drawing on his own reserves rather than anything she might offer, she can feel her lungs clearing and the ache easing from her muscles, leaving her feeling far more normal than she has in months. Her gaze shift briefly to Ether, out of curiousity. He is indistinct in the lee of the cliff, yellow eyes wide and unblinking. He seems to straighten a bit, the strain easing from his eyes as she watches.
Turning her gaze back to Woolf, she tilts her head slightly, the harshness of her gaze softening slightly. A small, unspoken part of her wishes they might have known each other as siblings should. But it’s foolish to wish for things that might have been.
After a moment’s silence, she finally continues, “Don’t think I am ungrateful, Woolf, because I am not.” She shifts subtly, eyes focused, thoughtful. “You have my aid when you need it. But I need to know, are you still willing to continue our bargain?”
She might now be healed, but her bargain had never been meant to be selfish. She needed to know if other arrangements needed to be made. Because next time, she may not be so lucky. It would be one thing if she died over such a thing. Her children though? She might go entirely mad. And her madness is not something world could afford now. There is still a crater decorating Nerine’s neighboring isle that attests to that.
bitterness is thick like blood and cold as a wind sea breeze if you must drink of me, take of me what you please
He feels the exhaustion root through him, the strain of watching over Bright and healing them both a strain on his reserves, but he turns a blind eye to it. He will think of it later, when he is by himself and able to rest. When he is finally able to find a solution to his twin’s current predicament, he is sure that he would be able to restore himself to full health once more. It was too much of a strain to be separated from her like this, both of their consciousness on different planes, living at different frequencies.
He doesn’t divulge such weaknesses to them though, family as though they may be, and instead regards them with a cool gaze, his face carefully neutral. “I didn’t think that,” he says simply. To be honest, he didn’t think of her gratefulness much, if at all. Whether she was properly thankful for his ability was of no consequence to him. They had made a bargain, he had stuck to the terms of it, and she was now healed.
That was the beginning and the end of it.
“I will keep that in mind,” at the offer of her aid, although he already knows that he won’t be calling on it anytime soon. He would rather not feel the weight of owing on his soul. He had regretted the bargain almost immediately; hated that others had expectations of him, hated that it felt like a collar. But he hadn’t backed out of it, for reasons he still wasn't sure about. Perhaps he had a deeper sense of family loyalty than he realized. Perhaps it was self preservation to make sure none succumbed to the disease.
Perhaps he was simply too lazy to bother with the technicalities.
Regardless, he watches her, thinking further about the bargain. “If you or yours need assistance, come find me.” He looks toward the stallion on the cliff, the eery yellow eyes and the way the darkness seems to wrap around him. “I am not an entirely heartless creature,” his smile is hollow as it curves on his features, finding her gaze and feeling that strange tension between them. “I will do what I can.”
Whether he acknowledged it or not, it was clear his efforts had taken their toll on him. Magic does not come without a price, a fact she knows far too well. And certainly not magic like his. She would not force him to accept her aid, of course, even if she does think it rather foolish he would allow himself to become so voluntarily weak. But she is not his keeper, and she would not try to tell him how to live his life.
He could no doubt find her easily enough if he needed her anyway.
It is a rare thing that she finds herself indebted to anyone, though she would hardly expect him to know such things. Still, that she had allowed such a thing to stand speaks volumes louder than any words might. Had he been anyone else, it’s doubtful she would leave without absolving such a debt. But, though she has faith in very little, she has enough faith in him to let it be. And so when he offers his continued assistance, she merely nods her acceptance.
For a moment longer, she stares at him, blue gaze as unfathomable as the thoughts behind it. Finally, she breaks her eyes away, her body shifting as she moves towards Ether. She pauses only briefly to glance back at Woolf, the faintest of smiles catching at the corners of her lips. “Until next time, Woolf.”
Ether glances uncertainly between the pair of them until Heartfire turns her attention back to him. “Let’s go,” she says softly, a brief vision assailing him along with her words.
He looks briefly at Woolf again, faintly confused. After a moment, he sighs, calls on his shadows to open the portal. Heartfire steps through, and he hesitates, his eyes shifting back to Woolf. “Do you… need to go somewhere?”
i see your sins and i want to set them free
We can end it here if you like! I just thought I'd add that last if Woolf wants Ether to take him anywhere.
