[open] it's me who's been making the bed

[Viszla]

Myrna suffocate the fire  i started-------------------- right when it kindles This time of year the flowers in her trail are less obvious, for the buttery yellow daffodils and purple crocuses bloom on the hills around her in addition to each place her hooves land and grow, twined about in the crown of branches and greenery she wears on her horned head. The symbol of her leadership is as delicate as her claim to it - she hopes each time there is movement on the horizon of her homeland it might be someone new, someone bold, someone who wouldn’t mind having daffodils and crocuses blossoming in their wake. Or whatever the flowers were that day, Myrna concedes. A few weeks ago they’d been hyacinths, and as she passes a late blooming bunch, she sees a cluster of the pure white flowers blossom into fullness just over her right brow. The royal garland of the Gates is wrapped around her opalescent horns, but does little to mute their ever present glow, a beacon of her presence. Myrna is not a creature that goes easily unseen, yet as she makes her way through the rolling hills of her homeland she does not expect to be spotted by anyone at all. The birds, perhaps, and the glowing rabbits that graze on the lush spring greenery might see her, but they return to their busy lives, and Myrna continues to wander.

[Everclear]

Springtime touches the Gates with a familiar grace that reminds him of times long past. Everclear surveys it in silence, standing amid the newly colored hills as a solitary, stony-colored sentinel. This feels habitual, despite the stark contrasts – the different weight of the air, the general emptiness of the kingdom (if it could still be called that), the heavy permanence of eternity etching further into his bones. He hadn't lived in Heaven's Gates for long, if compared to others, but he'd fought hard enough to call it home in his mind.

He looks upon it all and wonders, like many times past, what might be in store for him now.

Beqanna is nothing if not unpredictable, as most clearly evident in the changes he observes now. The distant field of lavender with its giant arboreal keeper, the abundance of colorful flora throughout, the peculiar specks of glowing creatures here and there – its simple beauty is almost otherworldly.

The same could be said for the mare who wanders into view some distance away. Her pale coat stands out brightly against the green backdrop and blue sky beyond, the dark trees in the distance. Second only to her bright countenance is the rather lively bloom she seems to inspire with her every step. Flowers wake to greet her, shoots rise to meet her, and Everclear’s ears perk in curiosity.

It’s not until he approaches her, slowly and with a gentle chuff in non-verbal greeting, that he notices the halo she seems to wear is thanks to the curved horns around her brow. They are mostly shrouded by the flowery crown, but their glow permeates all the same. She seems nearly ethereal. The flowers in her hair remind him somewhat of his daughters, how he knotted little sprigs of forget-me-nots and yellow wood sorrels into their forelocks. But those had always faded and fallen, where this mare’s were more persistent.

“Are you a nymph, or a dryad?” he asks her plainly when he is near enough, somewhat relying on his youthful appearance to allow for the naivete in the question. He is yet unaware that there are, in fact, dryadic horses wandering the lands now, but the relevance to his association is clear enough in his mind. She is clothed in the garb of the earth around her and thus must be some kind of nature spirit.

E V E R C L E A R

@ Viszla

[Viszla]

Myrna suffocate the fire  i started-------------------- right when it kindles A pair of dark winged birds take flight to her left, and Myrna turns in their direction. Farther away in that direction is what must have startled them into the air: a dappled gray stallion that she does not recognize. Strangers in her home are not a common occurrence, but at the sight of him she changes her path toward the willows to meet him instead. “Neither,” she answers with a charming smile. “I’m Myrna.” Close enough to see him better now, the palomino mare decides that she’s certain she’s never seen him, nor anyone too like him, before. “The flowers are courtesy of the Gates” she says, tossing her head as she gestures upward. The movement disturbs a bumblebee, who finds his way to a cluster of dandelions near her feet. Satisfied that it won’t be immediately returning, her attention flits back to the grey stallion with a more reticent, but no less genuine smile. “It’s the crown. Have you been in the Gates long, or can I welcome you to the kingdom?” Myrna makes no habit of patrolling the rolling hills, but she likes to think that many live just out of sight, just beyond the borders of where she travels through the day. Perhaps this stranger is one of those, or maybe he is someone entirely new. Both are an intriguing possibility on a day that otherwise would have been long and empty, and the curiosity in Myrna’s eyes is genuine. @ Everclear

[Everclear]

Her explanation finds a vaguely bemused expression crossing his face, a gentle smile of almost-understanding. The Gates had not been so giving during his time here – indeed, magic seemed a bit more restrained before Carnage’s various reigns had broken the dams holding it back. Everclear had not ventured far enough into the kingdoms during his brief return three decades ago to have discovered any of the more modern evolutions.

Thus, his question had been posed partly in jest, thinking her adornments mere fancies as some horses are wont to wear. But when she mentions that their source is “the crown,” his ears twitch in recognition.

He dips his head a little, an old formality. “It’s an honor, your highness,” he begins, though his tone is casual to match her own. There’s no need to put on the old airs he’d been raised with so many lifetimes ago – of that, at least, he’s outgrown. “My name is Everclear.”

A pause follows his introduction as he considers his next response. Does one truly need to be welcomed to a place they once called home? A quick look around reminds him, though, that this is not the same kingdom he had known, not the one he had fought to defend. He hardly even knows of all that transpired among the kingdoms, old and new and reborn, since he’d last been a denizen of one.

“I lived in Heaven’s Gates long ago,” he eventually admits, a dual-sided answer. He has been here, and yet he’s never been here. “We did not have crowns in those days, though,” he adds with a bit of a laugh. “It suits you more than it would’ve suited me.” This last admission inadvertently reveals his prior title, but upon realizing this minor blunder he only shifts his weight in a shrug.

“How has the kingdom been since its return? If I may ask.” Despite his time apart, he does still hold some affinity to the idea of The Gates, if it is anything like its former self. Some change is to be expected, he supposes (and he has learned, during his conversation with Narya), but if the amicable mare before him is any testament, it seems about the same. “I would not mind pledging my loyalties to her once again,” he finishes with sincerity, a truthful solidity affirming his gaze.

E V E R C L E A R

@ Viszla

[Viszla]

Myrna suffocate the fire  i started-------------------- right when it kindles “Everclear.” Myrna repeats his unfamiliar name as the stallion dips his head politely. She inclines her own in return, though her piercing green gaze does not leave his as she adds truthfully: “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” There is a pause after she asks if he has been in the Gates for long, and the pale haired mare follows Everclear’s gaze as he looks out over the rolling hills of her home. She sees nothing strange on the horizon, and when he answers, the reason for the pause becomes clear. He calls it Heaven’s Gates. He is not the first one to use that name of late, a reminder of the long storied past this kingdom possesses. The crown is a more recent tale, and so she smiles at both the compliment and the mention of his former residence and title here. A former king? Kindling hope lends a brightness to her expression that contradicts the answer that she gives. How has the land been? “Safe.” She replies, answering both of his question at once. The Gates have been safe, and she knows that is what she would first want to hear, if ever she were to return to Hyaline. “The whole world has been quiet for the most part, but it has been peaceful. Sometimes I think that whatever kept us all fighting each other was drowned too.” At that her smiles softens, because the peace of the last few years had been much needed for her, and there has not even been theft of late, let alone the violence of an all out war. When she meets Everclear’s gaze, she feels the sincerity in his words, and does not doubt them for a moment. He means it, she knows, he would stay. “I think that we will be very grateful for your decision to return home.” Myrna says with a smile. Had she not just been hoping for someone to arrive, someone just like this Everclear seems to be? It occurs to her that their lack of guard (she’d never seen a need, not with the quiet and the Watcher) and absence of court politics, that perhaps there is little to offer him in exchange for such loyalty. @ Everclear

[Everclear]

‘Safe’ Myrna says and that simple word seems to warm his heart, easing it of a mild anxiety he hadn’t even identified in it before.

Even in all his time away, from the moment he had left the throne to Julian and until now, Everclear has wondered after the wellbeing of the kingdom. Unlike what so many had claimed to be true, he had truly cared for this kingdom. Spyglass had painted its image so illustriously in his mind’s eye and he had fallen in love with it just as much as he had with her, back in those far-off years of his life.

To know that it is safe now is a welcomed relief.

He smiles with the queen as she explains that the whole of Beqanna seemed to have grown quiet and calm and it’s not a fact he would dispute. What little he’s seen of it since his return this time seems to yield credence to her words. Things are certainly much tamer, less harried and tumultuous as he’s known them to be, and personally he cannot complain. It gives him some hope, true and pure in his heart, that, for once, the horses of Beqanna can know a simpler life.

Even if there is nothing to do in the way of politics and the struggle of hierarchy, there is a comfortable peace in the knowledge that he has not returned to conflict and war.

He’s had his fill of those for enough lifetimes.

“Consider me your newest resident, then,” he says cheerfully after she welcomes his offer. “I will do all that I can to retain the kingdom’s safety and peace.” Another smile, filled with hope. “And, of course, any other task you may need of me. I know these are harmonious times and I pray that it continues, but if necessary I will fight to defend the Gates once more.”

Not that he has ever preferred violence, but he had bled for this place before and would do it again.

E V E R C L E A R

[Viszla]

Myrna suffocate the fire  i started-------------------- right when it kindles At the thought of violence, something that feels too much like a jolt of electricity crackles along her spine, bringing with it an icy dread. Myrna keeps it from her face with the aid of manipulation and years of practice. Fire had burnt away the remnants of her scars, but the wounds within her mind were less easy to heal. They still throb, every now and then, but their effect grows ever weaker. There are happier thoughts to replace them, she reminds herself; she knows how to keep them far at bay. The thought of bloodshed in the Gates brought them back, just for an instant. But she swallows, and blinks, and pushes it away. The world is at peace, she reminds herself. There is no danger. The rivers have remained within their banks, and the volcanos have continued to sleep. There is no reason to be ill at ease. “I would appreciate that. I am…not an experienced leader,” Myrna admits to the grey stallion, “I never wanted to lead anything other than a pack. And I wasn’t even sure about that.” She smiles wryly, shaking her horned head slightly. “It’s strange how life turns out so differently than what we expect.”

@ Everclear

[Everclear]

Had he known that his vague mention of violence had sparked sore memories for her, he would have apologized profusely.

Conflict has never quite suited him either and he too does his best to avoid the notion of it. In times long past, he had almost blatantly sought out such disputes, minor or major. He had even joined a band of other young stallions that fancied themselves as mercenaries.

Nothing had come of that venture.

During various assignments while he’d lived in the Valley, he had at least taken turns observing and critiquing the sparring matches of others. He had learned enough from them that, when his time finally came, he had emerged as the victor in his fight with Prague during that distasteful raid upon his kingdom.

From these various situations he had learned well enough: fighting was not his preference.

He hopes that he has at least conveyed that much in his pledge to the queen.

Her admission of her lack of experience only makes him smile kindly. “It comes with time,” he assures her passively. He had not been certain that he deserved the crown either, and he’d faced trials aplenty, but he’d felt somewhat capable of handling it. Then again, he’d had a fair bit of practice during his time in the upper echelons of the Valley.

“That is certainly one constant in the world – the unpredictability of it.” He nods. “But that’s what makes life so exciting. Just think: today you may feel uncertain, but in time you may be looked upon as a great leader, one whom others aspire to be like.” An airy, almost wishful sort of tone tinges his voice as he gazes back across the kingdom’s gentle hills and abundance of flora. “And you’ll look back and wonder why you ever doubted yourself.” Another assuring smile, another nod as if affirming the belief in his own mind. “I may barely know you, but you seem very self-aware. That is quite a noble trait indeed and a key to being a successful leader.”

E V E R C L E A R

@ Viszla

[Viszla]

Myrna suffocate the fire  i started-------------------- right when it kindles Everclear’s answer is reassuring, and Myrna glances over at him, her eyes meeting his with no small measure of gratitude in their blue-grey depths. It is difficult to imagine herself as someone that others might look up, though she supposes as she follows his gaze out to the hills that she has at least stayed, when few others have. Perhaps that is enough. She is content to listen to Everclear’s words as she takes in the beauty of the Gates, finding that they are as just as warming as the spring sun overhead. He’d been a good king, she decides, even knowing nothing of his reign. She is as sure of it as she is that the sky overhead is clear and blue. “Thank you, Everclear.” She replies. “That means…” she trails off, uncertain how to best to capture the feeling that rises within her chest. “That means a lot.” She has stayed, if only to be sure that one pair of eyes kept watch. In time, her watch will end, but for now she is glad enough that it will be shared. Myrna watches the flight of a pair of birds from the Mother Tree, and the smile on her pale lips has finally reached her eyes. @ Everclear