"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
10-07-2015, 04:38 AM (This post was last modified: 10-07-2015, 04:39 AM by Nadyah.)
I feel so out of place away from the Gates. I don't even know it the horses at the falls are aliged with the Gates, or if I am on enemy territory. "Hello?" I inquire. I flinch. That rock on my burnt frog hurt like crazy. "The gates was recently attacked, and there are a few of us who are badly injured. I was wondering if you could help. I met Chezter, he mentioned something about healing water. May I take some back, as the mother tree was destroyed?" I say to no one imparticular. I hope this works.
Most residents of the Falls aren’t particularly prone to galloping though the kingdom, so the sound of quick hooves causes the bay stallion to turn away from his idle grazing and toward the soruce of the sound.
It’s a mare that he’s never seen before, but if her wincing is anything to judge by she’s probably here for some injury. If her kingdom doesn’t have a say in running the Falls she’s out of luck per the wishes of the king and queen, but Texas moves toward her regardless to see what it is she wants. The news of an attack on the Gates causes even the hard-to-ruffle bay stallion to raise a brow, but since as far as he knows the kingdom is unoccupied, he can’t bring himself to care overmuch. A few injured probably means the entire kingdom though, and Texas glances over his shoulder in hopes that either Shatter Me or Tiberios will appear. Texas isn’t at all inclined to give up the water when its not in his own interest, and since to do so would be against the express wishes of the monarchs, he’d rather have them be the ones to share the hard truth.
But they do not appear, and the blue roan mare is asking to take back water to the Gates, having heard from Chezter that they are magical. The mention of the stallion that had tried to woo Eld is surprising, since he’d thought the chestnut long gone, but his expression doesn’t change.
“King Tiberios and Queen Shatter Me have made the decisions to only share the healing water with those kingdoms we are allied with. We have no alliance with the Gates, and even if we did, how exactly do you plan to carry water back to your kingdom?” That their Mother Tree – their magical entity like the Waterfall is thiers – is surprising. The attack must have been fierce, or perhaps the Gates was simply weak and susceptible.
No help? No alliance? Now where? "Please, I am trying to help my kingdom. I belong to the Gates. Queen Fiasko has been kidnapped by the Chamber. Gryffen and his despicable band of - what are they?- well trained thieves." I say. Its obvious he doesn't believe me. What more proof do I need? I sigh. "Please, I need to be well if I am going to free her. Not only is Fiasko my Queen, but my friend. I was going to carry the water back in some moss to the gates. I need it. Please?" I plead. I bow my head in sorrow. I have let Fiasko and my kingdom down. I think to myself, as I lay down. My legs are hurting, my life leaving(Slowly, but it is), my kingdom deteriorating. And Chezter had invited me here? Now I am not so sure.
The mare replies to Texas’ statement as though she hasn’t even listened to him, repeating that she’s from the Gates and adding more detail to the story of the sacking of the Gates. They really should be used to that now, Texas thinks, they never make it more than a few decades without being attacked and plundered.
It problem is not that Texas doesn’t believe her. He does; she’s clearly injured. The problem is that according to proper diplomacy he ca’nt help her even if he wanted to. The bay stallion already knows his is going to come back and bite him in the ass. No matter what he does there will be consequences, and several of them are likely to be unpleasant. She talks about freeing the Queen, which is a fool’s errand, but given that she’d planned on carrying water back to her kingdom in moss, this mare might be just the woman for the job.
She pleads and then, for whatever reason, lays down.
Texas glances up at the clear blue sky, mouthing a silent plea for patience, and then looks down at the mare on the ground.
“Just go get in the water at the base of the Falls,” he says, nudging her side with one dark hoof, prodding her in the direction of the water. “I’ll heal your injuries as best I can, but even if you could carry water in moss, it’s the waterfall that is magic, not the water itself.” He isn’t entirely sure that’s true, but it only makes sense. If not, anyone could divert the water into trenches and into their own kingdoms.
I wince. I look up at the steed. "Thank you. I'm sorry if I repeat myself. I have trouble talking, you see. Also, I layed down because of the pain. Thanks for helping. Sorry about being a burden." I say. My brain has been full of fuzz and clouds since the attack.
He doesn’t even bother looking twice at Texas. It doesn’t surprise him that the stallion buckles under pressure, much less from a weakling mare who bats her pretty eyelashes in his direction. If the immortal bay wasn’t ruled by women perhaps he’d have the guts to properly turn her away, which is what Tiberios is intent on doing as he stalks angrily into the gathering. They’d sneered at him, been callous and rude, even had the audacity to question his methods and mannerisms. Well, Tiberios was fine with that. They’d had the chance to deal with his patient side, and now his patience has run out.
A snarl rises within him but he swallows it, instead pulling his upper lip back to reveal his incisors. The mare, weak from exhaustion and no doubt her caterwauling, is beginning to move in the direction of the Falls. Tiberios can feel the rage surge inside of him, and he channels that into a wall of white flame that shoots up in front of her. “Not another step.” He growls, ears burying themselves in his neck. His wild gaze shoots to the general of the Falls and his nostrils flare. “Was I not clear enough at the meeting?” But this cannot be helped, he knows it. Texas is weak with compassion and kindness.
Tiberios buries those emotions now.
He lurches forward, blocking the mare from moving any further into the kingdom, the wall of flame at his back. His head rises, tail lashing feverishly at his hocks while he inhales in an attempt to control his temper. “Let me make myself unquestionably clear - you, or any of the gates members, are not allowed to use the Falls. I will not let you use this kingdom as your fallback.” He says, knowing that this will be his final warning. “You will leave, or I will force you out, and I promise that it won’t be pleasant.”
He turns then, focusing his stare on Texas to emphasize this point before speaking his final command. “Get out, and don’t come back until you have the promise of an alliance.”
I freeze. Maybe time alone will heal my wounds. "I apologize deeply. I will leave now." I say, turning away from the falls. My only hope. My hopes for the gates fade as the falls fade from sight. I shriek from pain and crumple. Something's wrong. Terribly wrong. Then I see it. My legs have exposed bone.[i] "Don't let them see you. They don't have compassion."[i] a voice says. I hurriedly wrap it in a leaf from the elephant plant nearby. There, that's better. Then I hurry (best I can) home.
She thanks him but doesn’t stand, and Texas flicks his dark tail against his hocks as he waits. The soft thud of hooves on short grass have him turning his head, and he’s not especially surprised to see the black and white king stalking toward angrily. Texas might not agree with the majority of the new monarch’s decisions, but he does have to commend him on his actual presence in the kingdom – that’s an unexpected bonus.
The wall of white fire is unexpected, and Texas takes a step back, as wary as any wild creature of the steady flames. When Tiberios asks if he was not clear, Texas looks away from the fire to meet his gaze, and while he does not give a verbal reply, the shrug of his shoulders is quite clearly a : Yes, but I don’t care.
The bay stallion listens to the king speak to the mare in pain on the ground, and when the king turns back to him Texas returns the stare with a single quirked brow. The Gates’ mare rises to her feet and Texas watches wordlessly as she stumbles away. He calls after her, pitching his voice to carry across the distance: “Perhaps the Deserts can help.” They have a magician, surely.
At the sound of the pained shriek, he glances over his shoulder at Tiberios for just a moment before turning away. “You’ll probably regret that,” he says mildly. It’s clear from his tone it’s no threat against the king; Texas has no intention of doing anything requiring true social exertion (the ousting of a king for instance). He’s more than willing to let the clock run out on him – on all of them really, because it eventually will – while he stands by to watch history play itself out.
Tiberios
