"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
03-07-2022, 10:36 PM (This post was last modified: 03-15-2022, 03:31 PM by Ciri.)
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
In the days that came after her encounter with Amet, she had kept to the Isle. To the beach that reminded her of dragons, that instilled new feelings in her now that her reborn mind was having difficulty dealing with.
The emotions she was feeling, the release from the darkness... The acceptance she had finally found in herself, the grief and guilt of loss. Of what she had done. Part of her was glad that maybe he was truly hurting, finally feeling a fraction of what he had put her through. Part of her felt vindicated. After what he had done…. The betrayal. Thinking of it now makes her heart spasm with grief, stabbed in the back by him. By her. It slinks around her chest, this feeling of ichor that was similar to the oily slime that had once smeared her power. That had tainted her.
Other emotions rooted deep into her soul with an intensity she had never felt before. The guilt was weighing heavier then her vindication. She knew she would have to fix this, that despite what he had done… She couldn’t forgive him. She couldn’t forget. However, She remembers what it was like to be trapped in the darkness. That purgatory of nothingness. She knows she cannot leave him there. Her anger still remains, of course, but it wasn’t the storm it had once been. Some of that, at least, had been released when she had changed. And how she had changed.
The silver of her eyes still swirled but it was clear, now, the shooting stars that had always been there. Streaking and sparkling in her metallic iris’s with the intensity of the constant emotions she felt. The lives she had lived before. A star made mortal, a star that remembered exactly what and who she was. The many scars that line her body still leak their ethereal white light and she moves with a strange grace that she hadn’t carried before. Even the stars around her flicker with less agitation although they still stayed red, strangely.
Then there is also the other change. The one in her body, the gentle swell of her stomach. The realization at what the gift that had been whispered in a dream actually was. The reality of it was something she was still having a hard time wrapping her head around. More so than what she had done and what she now was. Different emotions swirl in the depths of her starlit gaze when she considers the weight in her belly, what was happening. She was going to be a mother again, a second chance. It excited her, terrified her, made her sad, made her want to sing with joy. She was wary of course, knowing the darkness that had been inside of her. A Dark Star and a Dark God, she worried of course. What might that mean for the child growing inside of her?
Ciri had finally managed to find some light at the end of the tunnel but it seemed she might never escape the full weight of trauma that continued to stalk her path. She wasn’t sure how to clear it entirely, if she even could. With her wings wrapped protectively over the swell in her sides, she gazes calmly out into choppy winter waters.
Of the offensively charming stallion she had met in the Meadow, the one whose words had stuck with her long enough to set her down this new path, she doesn’t think of at all. Not once, like when she had recalled all her memories as a star. Or when she had gone to the Mountain looking for answers. Or even now, waiting for the approaching night when she can release the starlight in her soul.
"What if I need you. I need no-one."
Regret, perhaps that was another emotion that was slowly taking residence. It swirls thoughtfully in a silver sea of stars.
Time ran away from him. Kestrell missed the annual meeting with his band, tangled up as he was in Tehpra with Areane. He’d sat in the jungle and counted the angle of a few stars he could see at night, then tracked the sunlight and watched his window of opportunity pass by. During the longest day of winter Kestrell couldn’t join his troupe for the raiding season, and he’d missed it all because of his stubbornness and scorn against Ciri. He really hated himself for that.
At the same time he was grateful. If she hadn’t been so self-important and thorny, Kestrell might’ve actually gone to Hyaline and missed the opportunity growing like a weed in the heart of Beqanna’s volcanic kingdom. Just like the Thane of the Isle, there was another winged star-being residing in the western seat of the Islands. However, unlike Ciri, Areane had actually been quite helpful.
Still… despite trying not to, Kestrell was often reminded of one when seeing the other.
He tried to push the thought out of his mind for as long as possible, lingering a day or two after his leg had time to properly heal. At first he tried convincing himself that a flight north on the deadend of Winter was a waste of time. It would be cold, he told himself; it would be bitterly cold and long, for no reason.
Ciri didn’t even want him around, Kestrell thought one night as he slept with a traveling herd on the edge of Taiga and Nerine. She wanted him to leave her alone - but gave him the recipe for a healing paste - and threatened to hurt him - but told him exactly where to find her.
By the time he’d made his way safely to the tip of the northern Kingdom, Kestrell had just about decided to forget Ciri once and for all, dammit. He was done with crazy, powerful, or crazy powerful sparks between strangers. No matter how tempting.
And then that night he flew to her.
Kestrell took wing by evening, when the sea had calmed enough for him to rise above the choppy waves and head out toward the frozen wasteland. He soared, too high to see his shadow rolling over the dark water as the clouds thickened and ice stung his pelt, unforgiving. He prayed to the Gods for clear skies, had his wish granted (whether the Gods heard him or not we’ll never know), and soon cleared the worst of it to find a night frozen over by the most beautiful stars he’d ever seen.
If the cold hadn’t taken his breath already, then the stars surely did - and there was one in particular that caught his eye, though tonight she looked especially bright.
“Ciri.” Kestrell said in a huff of air, his lips numb from the cold. He landed quickly, and fought with his conscience the entire trip upshore to greet her.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
It would not have surprised her if she had never seen him again. There had been many bridges she had burned (or attempted to sever) since the day she had awoken in the Meadow in a dried pool of her own blood. It was a surprise that she even had a place here, still, on the Isle. That she had anyone left at all. Her list of apologies owed was a long one, even if her mistakes and faults hadn’t entirely been her own.
His name came high on that list.
When he fell from where she had been watching the aurora playing it’s nightly winter dance, landing a little ways down-shore, she is instantly reminded of this. A new influx of intense emotion begins to shoot amongst the stars in her argent gaze as she fights amongst the feelings spiraling in her chest, trying to sort out what each one truly means. Anticipation, trepidation, and a thrill of pleasure is something she untangles when he says her name. Wariness, uncertainty, and something else she can’t quite place is what she pulls when he begins to move towards her.
It is always cold on the Isle and winter only adds an extra layer of bite that not many can survive. After being encased in ice (experiencing true cold), the frigidness of the land barely registers anymore. Or perhaps it’s the heat within her that keeps her from feeling truly frosty, where the connection to the heavens above is now always open, never closed, and filled with brightness. She can tell he is feeling the Isle's harshness but she is hesitant to try and manipulate what she is still discovering. Stars are made of gas and fire after all, perhaps she could bring some heat and help ease the chill. Then she remembers what she had done to Amet and thinks better of it.
Light flickers beneath the many scars across her body but she makes no move to hide what she had become. Her wings, however, still wrap protectively around her stomach. A secret she is not willing to share just yet. The crimson stars that hover around her twinkle at him in welcome as she waits for him to join her and when he does, she smiles uncertainly at him. “Kestrell.” Her voice is filled with starlight and she finds herself shifting her hooves, glancing down as she tries to once more understand the complexity of her emotions and avoid whatever harsh words she probably deserves from him. He had been a kind stranger who had unfortunately landed in a bitter viper's nest. How could she explain to him, to any of them, why she had been that way? Or what she had done to rid herself of it?
In looking down, she catches his once injured leg in her periphery and a quiet laugh escapes her… Followed by a gleam of brightness as white light dances once more behind her scars. “Your leg looks better.” She offers gently, forcing herself to find his gaze and see what might be written there.
03-19-2022, 11:33 AM (This post was last modified: 03-19-2022, 11:38 AM by Kestrell.)
Kestrell hardly knew what to say. He could see that she was plainly different from the last time they met, but kept his thoughts to himself. Maybe mentioning the changes out loud would bring up something to irritate her, and Kestrell certainly didn’t want that again.
In fact, he’s not sure what he wants. It’s not her - at least, not in the way that he typically thinks of when the idea of ‘pursuing’ a possible love interest enters his mind. He’d always been a dog about it, a real hound chasing down the scent of its prey (which the prey typically enjoyed, mind you.) Just mad, really; totally driven by his instinctual desires.
The pursuit always started the way things began - or ended, in this case - with Ciri. He’d meet a beautiful, lonely stranger and at first they’d have nothing in common. By the end of that conversation things would be different, though. They’d drop hints (like Ciri did) that stuck like seeds or burrs to Kestrell’s coat, following him around and nagging him until he’d waited long enough. Then the hunt would begin.
However, there was one thing more striking about his encounter with Ciri than any other: she seemed to be genuinely drawn to Kestrell’s pain, (despite her own) and willing to help him after he’d more or less asked for her help. She’d given him more than a clue.
Ciri had given him a lifeline.
So he looks upon the gleaming stripes covering her body, puzzling out that they were once scars turned into pure starlight, and Kestrell smiles despite the bitter cold and freezing temperatures. She looks very well, he consoled himself. That’s all he cared about. Maybe that was why he’d journeyed here for more than a month.
In the pitch black night, Kestrell’s normal eyes finally adjusted to see the world had turned into a dark void. Ciri’s faint crimson lights illuminated the ground, and he could hear the sloshing waves pushing ice upshore. But the Tundra was barren and flat, blending seamlessly with a horizon rich in celestial bodies. For once the heaven outshone the earth, and the Gods and Goddesses tended their beautiful constellations as Kestrell watched slowly from far, far away.
“Can you believe I took it all the way to Tephra for a soak?” He looked down to find her glancing up at him.
In her eyes was a perfect reflection of what he’d just witnessed. It seemed like someone had dipped a cup into the night sky and poured it into Ciri’s soul, and before he could blink Kestrell saw a winking light soar over her irises. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming, then; for a second he wondered if the cold had actually gotten to him, because Ciri’s eyes were full of shooting stars.
“You’re looking brighter yourself.” He hinted devilishly. “And maybe even happy to see me?” Kestrell nudged.
“Something good happened?” He finally asked outright. What he didn't say was: I worried about you.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
It was all still trying to settle inside of her, those parts of her that were purely star trying to blend with the part of her that was purely mortal. In time, they would. These were early days, the images and stories that tornado through her mind still trying to find their proper place in her memory bank. The light that simmers beneath her smoky torn skin fresh and uncertain. If she reaches far enough, she can sometimes still feel those phantom lightning strikes that once shot across her chest but its all submerged beneath the weight of different emotions that the star is still struggling to grasp.
At her core, the star turned mortal still remembers the life she lived on this earth before everything unlocked. Even before the endless anger and the oily violent slickness of The Curse’s touch. He mentions the healing waters of Tephra and she gives a small nod, remembering when she had tried to find relief in the volcanic lands once. Unfortunately she hadn’t found a Tephran to help her, had found someone else instead. Feelings follow the light that shoots across her metallic gaze, a mixture of hurt and affliction (he hadn’t listened to her advice regarding Hyaline’s witchcraft, the recalling of her terrible encounter with Lilliana in Tephra and being hunted by Gale, the pain of her broken wings and the way the mare had cried) that quickly changes to other emotions. Like amusement at his devilish grin and the familiar irritation for the stallion that still managed to get beneath her star-dusted skin, followed by gratefulness that he was even here to begin with.
“I need you.” Even now, those words still stick like a thorn in her mortal heart and she finds the corner of her mouth curling into a smile for him, a little mixture of both the Star she was now and the Ciri she had once been.
“Happy? I wouldn’t go so far…” She manages to tease back, noting with interest the emotions that follow. It’s his last question that makes her hesitate. Flashes of darkness and galaxies, golden scales, blinding light, the pulse of betrayal which squeezes around her chest so hard it makes it ache. “Yes. And No.” She finally replies, noticing that frost was already clinging to his lashes and feathers. She was use to the harsh weather here on the Isle, sometimes she forgets how much it could effect everyone else. “Your cold.” She states plainly, tilting her head and observing him with those silvery starlit eyes. “Follow me, I know a warmer spot.”
Spreading her wings, for flying to where the heart shaped lake and its everlasting burning tree resided would be quicker by flight, she momentarily forgot what she had been concealing beneath her starry feathers. There is no missing the extended sides of her belly, the obvious signs of pregnancy. Surrounded by her crimson stars, she bolts into the frozen air. Not trusting herself to look at him again until they reach the blue flames she had in mind.
The entire island was frozen over, like Kestrell. Most of his body felt numb by this point, though he'd only just landed and walked a few paces up shore to greet Ciri as the Thane of Icicle Isle deserved. He watched the emotions play out in her eyes like imploding galaxies, heard how she strained herself for an answer that would suit his prying question without giving too much away, and watched (happily) as her concerns finally came to rest on his wellbeing.
A very diplomatic way to avoid answering his question, Kestrell thought with a little grin.
Still, he hardly noticed the feral bite of the dark, frozen tundra. Kestrell knew this was the first warning sign of frostbite, that the numbness in his limbs was danger not comfort. In denial, he clenched both wings closer to his side and answered Ciri in the affirmative.
"I am." He bobbed his head.
He didn't think to argue with the immortal star-born mare. Not this time, at least. The promise of warmth was enough to stir Kestrell into motion, and he unfurled his wings with a few hardy slaps to shake off the ice. At the same time Ciri also unfurled her lovely plumage, and that was the first time Kestrell noticed the most glaring change about her.
She was pregnant.
Shock closed his mouth and kept it shut. Kestrell had never been the type to linger after encounters of the sexy kind, but he was well into the prime of his life; he knew what resulted from 'liaisons'. What he didn't know was if Ciri's private matter had been a choice of her own, or someone else's. Kestrell didn't like to think about the latter.
He stomped the cold loose from his hooves and took flight, shrouded by a dark cloud of conflicting thoughts all the way toward a heart-shaped lake. There, a dim glow flickered in the night, drawing both pegasi down toward the ground again. For his part, Kestrell gave Ciri some physical space while he warmed himself beside the eternally burning pine. Quietly, he contemplated the blue flames and thought about what to say next.
"Are you all alone out here, Ciri?" He wanted to know.
