"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
Does he depend on Islas? An answer comes to his mind immediately, though the rationale takes longer. There are many reasons why he depends on the star-mare, and untangling them had been part of his mission during his walk on this dark day. Some of the reasons Tiercel relies on Islas are different from the reasons she depends on him, and some of them are similar. He cannot deny that the sudden darkness would have been worse if she was not with him, if she did not return to their cavern for rest, if he didn’t have a purpose to protect her. And Tiercel knows he depends on Islas for the very reason that tied them together in the first place — he holds an endless, pressing ocean within the realms of his being and she is an empty vessel to willingly accept his emotions.
So while his burdens might be different from Islas’s, the dun-and-navy knows that he does rely on her.
“Yes, I do.” This confirmation does soothe him; despite Aquaria’s willingness to accept her own wisdom, her words ease the downpour of questions he had arrived with. Perhaps Tiercel can feel satisfied knowing that Islas leans on him and he leans on her. Perhaps knowing this will be enough to keep them safe through this strange darkness (and even into the birth of their child, if the shadows lasted that long).
Aquaria’s laugh brings the stallion’s attention back to the beach. He catches a glimpse of the sun at that moment, like a warm summer day melting the cold from his back. Tiercel cannot refuse the smile that breaks his serious face, and it softens the hard edges of his face. He isn’t sure what he said to make her laugh, but his smile is genuine, and he feels content knowing that she had found some joy in their conversation.
“I’ve never been the leader of an island before, but I know what it’s like to worry about someone.” The pressing weight of worry has plagued him with sleepless nights (though day and night have blurred into one) and a twisting stomach since the darkness began, and he imagines it has done much of the same for Aquaria. Their conversation is a balm to his soul; for this time, standing on this beach with soft blue orbs swirling around their faces, Tiercel feels his worry slip into a corner to hide.
He feels safer on this island, knowing that the monsters might not have reached this place just yet, and Tiercel relaxes on the beachfront. “I would love to hear how you became the official worrier of the island, if you’d like to share.” He says this with another smile, though this one lingers on the edge of charisma and good-natured humor.
02-08-2021, 12:28 PM (This post was last modified: 02-08-2021, 12:29 PM by Aquaria.)
aquaria
- THE TIDE IS HIGH, IT'S SINK OR SWIM -
Her smile was soft in the low light, but genuine enough to hear his answer. This was, after all, what she did best. Confidant, counselor, simple listening ear. She had played these roles often in the days before the dark. It was an abstract comfort to be able to slip back into the same patterns, even if things had changed so dramatically.
"Barring the sun coming back, what more could you ask for?" She queried, knowing sometimes there was more, but not often. It was, she decided, just one other who he was asking along the lines of. A heart uncertain of the road ahead, and who could blame him? Still. If it was a partnership like it sounded he'd found, she suspected he had nothing to worry about. Not in that exact way.
To support, and be supported in return. To love and be loved. Everything else was doable, if you had that.
She blinked up at him, understanding luminous in her eyes as she listened. Yes, worry was a familiar sensation to the nereid, one she sometimes wondered if she'd ever be free of. That begged the question though: did she want to be free of worry? What would that mean, really? A life without friends and family to fuss over. Without a home to care for. It made her sick to her stomach half the time, but worrying was how she cared.
That train of thought made his next words all the more relevant, and she felt a sigh of exasperation pass through her. "Inherited it, more or less." She said, and it was true. Generations of her blood line had lived here, and many had taken the helm when required. "There's been a few outliers, of course, but for the most part...My grandmother, my mother, my elder sister and my sister's foster daughter have all taken their turns guiding Ischia. It's my turn now, and one day I hope one of my daughters will take my place." If not, there were nieces and cousins available. The chain would not end with her. Not if she could help it. Not as long as there was still Ischia.
“That must be quite a legacy.” Tiercel understands what it feels like to follow in such big footsteps. How often had he felt pressure from his parents and older siblings? Whether it was said out loud or not, he had felt the urgency to help carry their family name into history, to scrape their name into Beqanna’s foundation so it could be seen for generations to come. He can picture it in his mind: Lepis and Wolfbane had several children to continue their strong roles as leaders, with each child becoming as prominent in Beqanna’s political structures as their parents.
He had removed himself from that family name, though the memories of the past do not scatter as easily as the potential for the future. Although he knows that Gale’s death hadn’t been real, Tiercel had still carried his guilt with him until more recently. Yet that guilt had not stopped him from buoying upward, from feeling the sweet freedom that comes with erasing your name from the list of potential leaders, from understanding that what lies in your future is something you will achieve with your own willpower.
Though Tiercel sees leadership differently, he respects the way Aquaria sees it. It sounds like a burden to him — as if her birth, her existence, has bound her to the islands. The way she describes her heritage makes it sound like she was always prepared to lead; it seems like her life had always had this one purpose. His cerulean eyes are dark with thoughtfulness when he asks, “Do you like leading Ischia?”
03-01-2021, 09:46 AM (This post was last modified: 03-01-2021, 09:46 AM by Aquaria.)
aquaria
- THE TIDE IS HIGH, IT'S SINK OR SWIM -
Her tail ruffled slightly in a chill breeze carried in from the mainland. It was so odd, being cold all of the time. The sand beneath her hooves crunched with frost without the sun to warm the saltwater caught between grains. The world was spinning upside down, and she was only trying to hold on.
Talking to Tiercel had been unexpectedly grounding. She nodded at him with the ghost of a smile on her lips. A legacy? She'd never really thought of it in those terms. "The island takes care of us. My family just happens to have a built in need to return the favor." Her head dipped, rueful acknowledgment of the possibility that she may not have quite met that goal.
They were dark days they were living in, literally and figurativly. The safety and security she had taken for granted all her life was now soundly in question. That, she could handle. It was her family and friends now that she needed to protect, from dangers she hadn't even been aware of until moments ago. How did you protect yourself and others from a hazard you couldn't even see? She made a mental note to find Titanya soon, to see if the more militant mare had any insight to the problem.
His next question took her aback, though given their conversation, it shouldn't have. A soft "huh" of consideration puffed from her lips, making a foggy cloud of mist that tinted blue in her strange sealight. "I think it might be a thing too big to be ruled by whether or not I like it," she mused aloud. "Some days it's wonderful. The most rewarding, fulfilling thing in the world. Some days I want to run away and never look back. But I know if I did that, sooner or later I'd regret it, and I'd miss all the bright, wonderful days like I'd cut a leg off." Plain and simple, it was just a part of her now. She loved her home. Loved it like her children, like it was a physical extension of herself. You didn't have to like something all the time to love it.
To give and to receive. Tiercel wonders if this might be the root of their existence. Are they creatures made to take from this world? If so, what is he expected to take? Perhaps he should be more receiving of the wind on his cheeks or the forgiveness of another. Better yet, he should be more willing to freely give his apologies when he has done wrong. Like dark and light, maybe they are made to receive what their world offers and then give back only as they know how to. And in the end, they will give up everything — after death, their bodies are slowly absorbed into the soil.
Tiercel has a suspicion that these thoughts should feel morbid, but he wonders if they are perfectly normal. Aquaria talks as if Ischia were its own being (a presence that gives to her family and expects to receive from them as well). It prompts the stallion to move his cerulean eyes from her scaled face and scan their surroundings, as dark as they might be. Their world is shrouded in magic that Tiercel cannot wholly understand, and part of him is willing to accept that he will never understand it. Yet the way Aquaria speaks of her island makes him wonder; is he expected to give back to their world to replace all that he has taken from it?
“Huh,” he says, with a lilt that sounds just as thoughtful as he is in this moment. Tiercel isn’t sure what giving back looks like, but he wonders if it falls along the lines of raising children, of releasing the anger that froths within him, of treating Islas with respect beyond what he has for himself. The thought of the ivory mare makes his heart lurch with a sudden feeling of homesickness. “Hopefully, those brighter days will return soon.” Tiercel’s dark forelock slides across the bridge of his nose as he dips his head. “It was an honor to meet you, Aquaria, but I have a feeling I should return home soon.” His cerulean eyes linger on the scaled mare, memorizing the bold lines of her face and the shade of her gaze.
“I will return to your beloved island when the sun comes back and see it in all its glory.” And with a final smile, Tiercel splashes into the ocean.
