"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
What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
She has avoided coming here. Since when has Rezza ever been the type to avoid her job? It's all she knows, really. War and advising in war. Rezza thrives in the life she has been groomed to live. At least, she did. So many years of war - nothing but endless, bloody, war. What was peace but a myth? Peace wasn't even reason enough to fight. They fought because they knew nothing else.
And then, for one brief, glittering moment, she knew peace.
Now she wasn't sure how to go back to the life she once knew. War had not broken out with the arrival of Stratos, but destruction proceeded them. Destruction of a world that did not deserve what had befallen them, but then again, had Stratos or Baltia ever deserved it either? How many innocent lives died over a war that had no beginning and no end? A war without cause and reason and yet...a yet it was a war that Rezza still fought in her own mind, even if they were not physically fighting now. And so, eventually, knowing it would fall to her to do something, she goes to the one place that's still habitable.
Rezza stops at what she thinks is the border of the Brilliant Pampas, calling out to anyone who might hear. The landscape before her fits the name, though the colors of the land are on fire with the autumn chill in the air. She can hear a small body of water in the distance, but Rezza feels far too land locked here, despite the massive amount of Beqanna that's underwater. As much as she enjoys the land of Beqanna, she's been growing antsier by the day without being able to dive back into the depth of her underwater home. Maybe the horses here would have some idea how to fix everything that's happened. That was all she wanted, really. She wanted her home back, as she was sure they did too. She would do what it takes to make that happen, if there was any way.
For all of her previous experience with being a leader, she should have perhaps been better at it this time around. She knows that she should have figured out a way to contact those in Baltia, and should have sought out someone from Stratos. It is not that she is avoiding them, necessarily, but this stint in leadership is vastly different from when she had been handed the crown for the Dale. The Dale had been a settled kingdom, a place with rooted residents and a sense of purpose. It had not been without its own drama, of course, considering the crown had been more or less taken and then gifted to her, but that was, truthfully, a normal change in leadership for Beqanna.
The Pampas—though it had always been a part of Beqanna—was created as a kingdom from chaos and destruction, and many that lived here did so out of necessity. There were no other kingdoms, no other lands. The common lands grew crowded, and while a portion of the population had always treated them as makeshift homelands, even that was proving difficult with how much of their land mass now sat under water.
It’s why when she hears a call at the border she is not surprised, though it takes her a moment to recognize the official tone to it; the announcement of a formal visitor, something she had not heard in quite some time, and never here. She follows the direction of the call, and the mostly flat landscape makes it easy to pinpoint the figure of the mare on the horizon. It is such a drastic difference from Hyaline that for a moment, instead of being grateful at how simple it is to locate a newcomer, she feels a clench of sorrow in her chest and is overcome with images of the lost mountain kingdom. She thinks of jagged peaks reaching towards the sky, of the mirror-like reflection of the lake where the land had earned its name, and groves of trees painting the rugged hills. It had been the closest thing to the two other homes she already lost—the valley and the dale—and now it was gone, too.
Brilliant Pampas is beautiful, but it is not yet home.
She pushes those thoughts aside once she reaches the stranger, and though she eyes her carefully—noticing almost immediately that she exhibits different features, even by Beqanna standard—the smile that she offers is friendly, and her voice has not lost any of the warmth that it usually holds, not even for the sake of sounding formal. “Hello,” she says once she is close enough, followed by an introduction. “My name is Ryatah. Are you looking for someone?” She asks, as if the mare is likely not looking for her—the leader—specifically.
What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
It does not take long for someone to find her, which is not overwhelmingly surprising given the flat land that spreads out before her. So different than an underwater kingdom that lacked anything remotely akin to true borders. No one else lived beneath the sea with them, and so while there were parts of the ocean that were more Baltia than others, it's not as if they'd ever had to share. Or ever really had visitors that they had not invited themselves with the gift of the underwater herb.
Beqanna had surprised her in this, as land-dwelling horses appeared beneath the sea uninvited and able to breathe. Coming to Beqanna had been a surprise too (understatement of the year). One that had, in some ways, been a welcome change for Rezza. It had shown her how life could be, something she'd never had the luxury to consider in over a century. She's only ever known how life was. But of course, it was not a welcome change when their arrival sunk lands where others lives. It was even less of a welcome change with the arrival of Stratos and the near destruction of everything they all loved. This could not go on.
The mare who finds her is friendly, eyeing Rezza's strange appearance but nothing more. They have every reason to hate her for all her kingdom's appearance has done to their home, though thankfully that is usually not a reaction she has found (it's not like she chose it, exactly). Still, she wouldn't blame them if they blamed her and her people. "I am looking for whoever is in charge," Rezza replies with a warm smile and a nod of her head. "My name is Rezza, advisor of Baltia. I know little of your world, but I am hoping that perhaps there is a way to set things right." Even if that meant sending Baltia and Stratos back to their war in some other dimension, she could not sit idly by and do nothing. Not anymore.
now and then there’s a light in the darkness,
feel around until you find where your heart went --
Baltia, the mare says, and something in Ryatah’s demeanor changes, riding the nearly imperceptible shift from casual conversation to what she now assumes will be political. She had known this moment would come—had also known that instead of waiting for it she should have taken the initiative to seek it out, but without an army, or even a council, to back her up, it seemed unwise. Even though not all Beqanna kingdoms were known for being friendly, they still were not strangers. If she did not know the faces of those currently ruling then she would still know their mothers and fathers, would have perhaps once ruled at the same time as their grandparents, and so on. She would know the history of the kingdom itself, would be familiar with how frequently it had swung, like a pendulum, between the dark and the light.
Stratos and Baltia, however, are unknown to her, and what little she does know leaves her with the impression that neither of them should really be meddled with. The storms that wrecked Beqanna had not only revealed the previously unknown kingdoms, but had also unearthed all their bloodied history. Did an alliance with one mean war with the other? Or, even more troubling, would the two enemies find a common allegiance in their dislike for this strange world they had found themselves in? The Pampas could maybe fend off one attacker—but not two.
But Baltia is here now, on her figurative doorstep. The mare has come alone as near as she can tell, which means it's unlikely that she has brought war with her at this very moment. She should perhaps be more wary, but her fear of injury and death has dulled over the years—something that simply happens once you’ve endured it too many times, and it is only the darkness that followed her home from the void that rests coiled in her chest like a sleeping cat that she is reminded that death can still be unpredictable. Other than regarding the mare with a keener stare, though, not much else changes. “That’s me, actually. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Rezza. I have not yet met anyone from Baltia, so I suppose this was overdue,” she finishes with another smile, this one slightly smaller since she knows there are other matters they need to speak on.
“I wish there was more of my world to show you,” she says, her tone tinged with sadness when she thinks of how much of Beqanna rests under the sea. “But perhaps under different circumstances,” she adds sympathetically, recognizing that Rezza and the rest of Baltia were not here by choice. She gives a small shake of her head. “I am not sure how to begin to right things, truthfully. It appears that it took a lot of magic and chaos to get us here in the first place, and would likely take equal amounts to reverse it.”
What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark?
Rezza has no interest in bringing war - not anymore, at least. She should, of course. Oh what a traitor she feels like trying to stop a war rather than win it. That has been her whole life, more than a century of trying to win an unwinnable war. Yet she was trained as a diplomat, one admittedly well versed in the art of war, but was her job not ultimately peace? And if so, she had failed time and time again. Her job was, at the simplest, to advise the Queen, which she had done well and faithfully for her tenure. But now? Now the Queen was sick, her son was not yet King, and Rezza felt a bit like the only Baltian who actually cared to do anything at all. That was not actually true, but that didn’t change how she felt about the whole situation.
They could not find a way to fight Stratos here without involving the innocent bystanders of Beqanna, a thing Rezza could not truly fathom doing, so someone else may bring the fighting to them regardless. It was strange how life here had shifted so much of Rezza’s perspective. She had tasted peace, a thing she has never known in over a hundred years, and it tasted sweet. It tasted of lazy afternoons spent in the coral garden with her daughter, like freedom from fear and uncertainty and constant vigilance.
It tasted like a new Baltia.
That was a dangerous thought, one Rezza couldn’t voice aloud to anyone. Not her daughter, certainly not her Queen or her General. Not to this stranger who introduces herself as the leader Rezza is seeking. Ryatah mentions that she has yet to meet anyone was Baltia, and Rezza smiles playfully as she responds, “Well, then I apologize that your first introduction will be me.” A joke, clearly. Rezza is not unpleasant, and certainly far better company than the Queen or Helice.
Ryatah’s next statement is not unexpected, though still, not what Rezza had hoped to hear either. There must be a way, but as new to the shores as she was, she knew too little of this land to be of use. So if she cannot right it, at the very least, she can do her best to make sure Baltians aren’t seen as the enemy (though there’s no hint of that in this mare, at the very least). ”What I saw of your land before the Cloud Fairy’s storm,” she says, lingering on that word, knowing it is far to simple a word to convey the chaos that came from it, ”was beautiful. I hope to get the opportunity to learn more about it.” And that was not just some diplomatic platitude. Rezza would always love the sea first and foremost. She was made for it, and it was her home, but she has enjoyed her time on land far more than most Baltians and probably far more than she should have.
”I was afraid that might be your answer. If anything comes to mind later, know that I will do my best to set things right. In the meantime, perhaps I can offer insight. Are there questions you have?” Rezza imagines there are probably many, though perhaps Ryatah has already found a source of information in Stratos. She isn’t sure, but she can offer anyway.
