"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
like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
Mom, I need your help.
Those had been the first words spoken to her when Dawn had appeared at the Resort, looking disheveled and exhausted, but mostly alright. She didn’t have the plague—thank the gods for that—and had moved with most of her kingdom to the Cove, which is one of the safelands. They hadn’t really had much of a chance to catch up on things (Dawn had offered a few short sentences that made it clear her and Rhaegor weren’t on speaking terms, which had shocked the golden woman), but Dawn had made it clear that she wanted her mother to travel to Tephra. They didn’t have a healer, see, and the Resort had at least two.
She has heard of Magnus, the stallion who leads Tephra, but she has never had the chance to meet him. He has led Tephra several times over now; she remembers so long ago, Ruan telling her that Magnus would welcome her back to Tephra if she ever decided to live there again. She had never met him, though, and the idea of living there without Offspring and Flamevein and the others she cared about... it was daunting. So she had moved on to Taiga, eventually even fading out of there and returning to her familiar haunt: the Meadow. Then the plague happened and maybe, just maybe, she has found a home.
Tephra is across the narrow sea from the Resort, but it is a short flight—she remembers from on the way there. The enchanted bridge is still there as well, but she is more comfortable taking to the skies. The flight is short, and before long she is alighting on the shores of Tephra near the volcano. The air is as warm as she remembers it, and she stands on the shoreline, cold water brushing over her ankles as she waits for Magnus, or anyone else. She will do what she can to heal those afflicted, no matter who they are.
@magnus she will ease the symptoms of any residents that are sick; she can't heal the plague fully but she can help <3
although this world is made of fearsome beasts that bark and bite we were born to put these creatures through one hell of a fight
Magnus had not expected Dawn to truly send her mother so quickly. He had appreciated the young girl’s heart and kind words, but he knew that healers had their hands full during the plague. It is part of the reason that he has not fretted over not seeing his niece. Leliana has always been one to bend over backward to help others, and he could only imagine that she was chest-deep in work now, doing her best to soothe the wounds of the inflicted. It was difficult to not worry about her, to not consider seeking her out, (he had, after all, helped raise her), but he had no desire to add more to her plate than needed.
Still, all such thoughts are far from his mind when he sees the golden mare land on the beach.
The barest hint of a crooked smile touches his lips, gold-flecked eyes studying her for a moment before he continues along his path. It is his usual routine, trailing along the borders of Tephra, and he had been lucky that her arrival had been timed with his turn toward the beach. Still, he doesn’t hurry over much, doesn’t pick up his pace. Instead, he walks steadily, sure that she would see him coming.
When he arrives several minutes later, his handsome face his neutral, ink-dipped ears tipped forward, and a welcoming smile tugging his mouth. “Hello, there,” he offers, whiskey-voice smooth. He has no idea what he carries in his veins—has no idea what brews beneath the surface—but there are others that could use such help. Others who would need her assistance, once he finds that’s what she is here to provide.
“My name is Magnus.” He dips his head in a greeting. “Anything I can do to help?”
01-14-2019, 12:20 AM (This post was last modified: 12-08-2019, 10:27 PM by Rhaegor.)
Rhaegor
the playboy
He feels worse these days - sex with the girl who he chose over the daughter of the healer he would accidentally bump into today seemed to have a more harmful effect than an ecstatic one. He shouldn't be surprised at that, shouldn't resent the blood-bubbling cough which has slowly laid claim to his lungs, shouldn't be surprised when so many feathers fall off his wings that he doubts he will ever fly again. The young stallion considers them often enough, sometimes daring to groom them - but the attempts only ever resulted in more feathers falling, and the sight of the dead gray fronds was simply not something he could stomach.
Emaciated but with no appetite, Rhaegor meanders along the western coastline as the winter sun kindly warms his back. This he appreciates most about his new volcanic home, the warmth; back in the Cove, he would be lucky to feel properly temperatured during midsummer. Musing over these meaningless ideas as he walks, the prince fails to notice the two golden creatures standing just atop the sandy beach. By the time he does, the number of golden creatures within that vicinity is magically three.
He blinks once, and clears his throat - then remembers that he can't speak anyway. The fever must be worse than I thought. Licking his lips, the buckskin stallion exhales loudly, the sound creaking like splintering wood. He wants to lend the pair before him an apologetic glance, but even this small gesture falls beyond his current capabilities. Blinking, though far too slowly for anyone's comfort level, he thinks again, not realizing that the thoughts are projected directly to his King's mind.
I would like to lie down. In the water, where it's cold.
...my name on your tongue and your tongue on my...
like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
Cress works quickly; she always has. She knows, especially with this plague, how much time is of the essence and when she needs to utilize her abilities. When Dawn had come to her, pleading that she go to the land with no healer, how could she have said no? Dawn had mentioned that Rhaegor was sick, and this was the land he had chosen to reside in, and though the two may be on the outs, she still thinks of the boy she knows so much about as one of her own children – she had watched the two of them grow up together, she cannot help it.
She can see the golden stallion approaching, a small smile on his face as he slowly picks his way towards her. He is in no hurry but she doesn’t mind; this is his land, after all, and she is but a newcomer standing on the beach. Magnus, he introduces himself, and Cress smiles widely, dipping her head respectfully to the monarch.
“I’ve heard much about you,” she says, her own voice as smooth as silk. “My name is Cress; my daughter, Dawn, summoned me when she heard that you lacked in healers.” She is drawn to help the helpless, as always. “I live in the Resort, just across the sea, under Tiphon. We seem to have an overabundance of healers on our little island, and I thought it would be useful to lend you my strength.”
Her head turns as another stallion stumbles up to them, this one dark gold and white and blue. Rhaegor. She feels her heart tighten in her chest and has to swallow a mouthful of flames as she takes in his emaciated, bloodied form. Startled, she glances to Magnus before hurrying to the young stallion’s side, using her broad, powerful hip to prop him up and against her. No matter their quarrels, this is her daughter’s best friend; she would be devastated if he were to die.
“Rhaegor, can you hear me?” she asks him, reaching for her abilities as she speaks. “Rhaegor, I’m Cress; I’m going to help you.” Closing her eyes, she floods him with her healing, reaching deep within herself to pull forth every bit of her power. She cannot force meat onto his bones, but she can ease his cough to just a tickle in his throat. She can heal his bloodied lungs and scratchy throat, and return to him the appetite (hopefully) that he has lost. She cannot do everything, but she can – and will – help him to the best of her abilities.
After some time – she isn’t sure of quite how long – she opens her eyes, sighing as she relaxes the muscles she wasn’t even aware that she had tensed. She had poured most of her energy into him to try and repair the damage that the plague had caused, but she knows that she cannot heal him fully of the plague. That is beyond even her capabilities; she is no magician, but she has to help in any way she can.
“Can you stand?” she asks him, voice thick with emotion.
although this world is made of fearsome beasts that bark and bite we were born to put these creatures through one hell of a fight
Cress is a seasoned diplomat, is the first thing he thinks. It’s clear in the way that she holds herself and the way that she navigates an introduction without faltering. There’s something comforting about being around someone so practiced, and his lopsided grin is genuine and warm because of it. “I assure you not everything you’ve heard about me is true,” he says with a soft chuckle, but his ears perk slightly when she tells him more about her home. “Ah, I just visited Tiphon. I’m glad to know he has such good people to surround himself with.” Another roll of his shoulder. “My niece, Leliana, has been helping where she can, but she is,” his voice falls off as a frown touches his features. “She has a lot going on.”
It’s the simplest way to sum up what he knows about her chaotic life.
A woman who is not even his niece, not in the strict definition, but who he helped raise all the same.
“Regardless, we are thankful for the help. We have—” His voice breaks off here as confusion rolls across his features like a storm, his Beta walking up delirious and worn. Without hesitating, Magnus swings around, offering the boy the support of his shoulder, trying to bolster him the best that he can. He can feel the faintest brushes of magic as Cress begins to pour her healing into him and appreciation floods him. He turns his gold-flecked gaze to her. “The water,” he says. “He wants to lie in the water to cool down.”
Magnus is no healer. Has no way of knowing if it could help, but the boy’s skin runs feverish beneath his touch and worry pinches his face. “It’s going to be okay, Rhaegor.” His whiskey voice is steady as he stands near the boy, brushing a muzzle over his forehead to push aside his forelock in a paternal motion.
Just as his legs bend to give out, his two guardian angels swoop forward to steady him. The first smells intoxicatingly familiar, the deep thrum of her melodic voice reminding him too much of something he cannot bring himself to remember as he struggles to remain conscious. And of course, his king is the other who comes to his aid, the strength of his buckskin hide providing Rhaegor with just enough energy and hope to stick through the worst of his sickness.
To Cress' plighting words, the young man can only moan, an embarrassment to what strength a member of Tephra ought to represent. He would come to beat on himself later, when he remembered this time more clearly; but for now, no such egotistical thoughts pervade his mind. Instead, he can only gasp as the mucous which slowly suffocates him gradually diminishes, as the blood dripping from his nose slows and dries, and as the film covering his eyes clears. When Magnus asks to deposit him in the water, Rhaegor nods weakly, not yet capable of speech but clearly already more whole than when he came to them.
A few steps (which feel like an eternity to the boy) later, and Rhaegor slides ungracefully into the lapping Tephran sea. The water in this area is far from cool, but upon standing, the wind would cool him as the water dried. Still, the sensation refreshes the pegasus, and soon enough his thoughts become quite coherent. Absently, he leans his head into the fatherly gesture of Magnus, eager for the love that he had emancipated himself from upon leaving Hyaline as but a two year old. It's going to be okay.
After a moment, Rhae's eyes flutter open, and he attempts to identify the mare standing anxiously before him. He wets his mouth as though he may attempt to speak, for he eventually comes to recognize Cress, having met her on many prior occasions; but it takes a while for the words to form, for despite his comfort levels with both these people, this situation left him far from comfortable.
"Cress," he croaks faintly, the high-pitched crackling of his voice painful to listen to, yet a victory when compared to his state upon arriving here. "I cannot express how thankful I am to you..." His words trail off significantly, eyes dropping in shame as he remembers the pain he'd forced her beloved daughter, his best friend, to suffer. Emotional and ill, the thought which next comes to him projects also to Cress, though he does not realize it. If only your healing could be applied to our friendship, too... But the thought is fleeting, and he soon looks up once more, a determined smile wavering upon his alabaster lips.
"I won't be offended if you would like to continue your conversation elsewhere..." The boy leans back, head in the sand with the receding tide still lapping at his thin shoulders. "I feel much, much better now."
...my name on your tongue and your tongue on my...
@[Cress] @[Magnus] not sure if you guys would like to continue this thread or let it finish here, but thank you so much for giving Rhae another shot of life <3 <3
like a house on fire we're up in flames; i'd burn here if that's what it takes
Cress has seen too much pain and suffering in her life. She hasn’t been alive long – twelve? Fifteen years? – but already the woman has lived through so much and she has dedicated her life to fixing what is broken. She couldn’t fix Ledger, that is true; she isn’t sure anyone could have fixed the ruined stallion. Flamevein had taken her under his wing, though, and taught her self-control and power, and that had inspired the false-dragoness to help those in need, long after he disappeared. She had served the Valley to the best of her ability before the Reckoning struck them, and for a time after that, she had lived amongst the Tephrans as a diplomat there as well. But for too long, she has not had anyone to serve or help, and she is glad that she has once again found a place.
“I’ve only heard good things, I promise,” she assures Magnus with a hearty grin and a laugh, her eyes crinkling as she smiles. “And Leliana is a dear friend of mine,” she adds, her smile fading as he tells her that the other woman has a lot going on. “I know,” she murmurs in response, casting her eyes low. “She has a big heart and so much love to give. She deserves happiness.”
Then Rhaegor arrives, and chaos ensues.
The water, Magnus tells her as he props Rhaegor by his other shoulder. He wants to lie in the water to cool down. Without breaking her concentration on the boy, they stumble to the surf, sinking into the warm water with him so that he doesn’t fall. After some time, she rises back to her hooves, watching the boy with worried eyes. If he hadn’t come to her when he did... she swallows back the thought as he turns to address her, gratitude written in every line of his face.
“You don’t have to thank me, Rhaegor,” she tells him, bringing her nose down to bump against his thin shoulder. “You have always been like a son to me, and I will do anything to help my family and my allies.” She turns her gaze back to Magnus and smiles again, feeling exhaustion start to set in. “I will rest here awhile to regain my strength, if that is alright with you. If there are others here that are this ill, I can help them, as well. It is not a cure, but it is a start.”
Rhaegor suggests they take their conversation elsewhere and Cress looks back to him, still laying in the gentle waves. “Nonsense,” she says, her maternal smile never wavering. Leaning towards him and lowering her voice so that only he can hear her, she murmurs, “You need to go talk to my daughter. She misses your friendship terribly.” Even though it will pain the two of them to speak again, she knows that delaying the conversation will just make it worse in the end. Regardless of how their last conversation ended, they need each others’ friendship, and it is painfully obvious in all that they do. At least to her.
@[Rhaegor] @[magnus] figured this was as good a place as any to end, cress just had to lecture rhae a little :|
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