"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
The white mare didn’t know how long or how far she had flown, but it was as far as her lightly-tested wings could carry her. She’d crossed the sea and countless unknown lands before finally returning to earth in a less than graceful stumble - equal parts elated and exhausted. Her very bones ached as she had never faced such a physical test before. But she didn’t mind the pain, because each and every step further from the crumbling kingdom she’d left only reinforced the fact that she was finally free.
The chances of encountering anyone from her homeland were slim. Few were blessed with wings, or so her father had said as he gloated, unabashed. Few would have been able to escape the fury of the earth, for she had seen how high the column of ash had risen as she fled. Those bound to the earth would have had nowhere to run as the mountain erupted around them. The priestess finds it difficult to have empathy for this population that she knew nothing of. As far as she was concerned, it was simply their fate. If they blindly followed such a ruthless king, she found it difficult to pity them. It was easy for one so isolated to come to such a judgment. She certainly did not know the world to be a kind place.
She wandered on a whim, with no particular destination in mind. She knew next to nothing about the world she’d been born into. She’d never needed such knowledge, having been confined for so long. But here, now, staring out on an unfamiliar world the young mare found that she had no idea what she was supposed to do. And for the first time, the idea of freedom seemed daunting. So, she could do nothing but pull her wings more closely to her sides as eerie black eyes flicked uncomfortably across the strange landscape.
02-25-2019, 10:09 PM (This post was last modified: 02-25-2019, 10:09 PM by Dawn.)
everything we are, it just went away with a slide of the tongue and a sour taste
She hasn’t left the Cove since her kingdom visits so long ago, but it is time. She has lived in fear of the plague for long enough, and she won’t let that fear control her life any longer. She has been telling herself for so long now that she loves her kingdom, she loves the people within it, and she loves her life here – barring a few hiccups along the way – so why hasn’t she done anything about it? Sure, recruits have been scarce in a Beqanna that has been growing tense and fearful in light of the plague and hostile takeovers that several kingdoms and subkingdoms have experienced lately, but that is no excuse for her to hide away within her kingdom. She has responsibilities, after all.
To get to the field, she has to skirt around Pangea, and she dips deep into Hyaline to go around it. Pangea is the breeding ground of the plague, and despite it being part of the Sanctuary, she cannot help but be repulsed by the kingdom that practically exudes evil. She wishes for the wings that her mother possesses, able to cut effortlessly through the air and make trips around Beqanna so easy – she has nothing but her bear, and even her bear couldn’t make it easier for her to travel.
The Field looms before her after several hours of travel, the sun burning fiercely overhead. Her dark eyes fall on a woman the color of another she’s familiar with – Litotes, she thinks with a smile – and she moves in her direction, eyes tracing enviously over the woman’s wings that she hugs close to her barrel. “Hello!” she calls once she is within speaking distance, a friendly smile taking over her features. The other woman appears nervous, though she masks it well, and Dawn stops several feet away. “My name is Dawn, what’s yours?”
Curled ears flicked in the direction of the stranger upon the girl’s approach. The winged mare was clearly wary. Her immediate reaction was to flee to the skies, but the sheer exhaustion of her journey kept her rooted to the earth. However upon further evaluation of the figure, the once priestess determined that maybe this stranger did not pose a threat. At least not yet. So she resisted the temptation to turn and flee.
What’s your name, the girl asked. It should have been an easy question with a simple answer. But the pale woman had never been given a name. She’d been called many things, but never once had she been bestowed with a name of her own. Most often, she was known as the Pythia - the Oracle - who interpreted the will of the goddess. She’d always known this to be a farce, a show used by those more powerful to manipulate the masses. But that had been her role nonetheless.
An uncomfortable moment passed as the woman struggled to keep the confusion from her face. Her mind whirled as she struggled to find the appropriate answer. And before she even consciously realized, she was speaking. ”Thia. My name is Thia.” Phythia. Thia. She wasn’t completely severing her ties to her homeland, but it was a fresh start all the same. Her voice was thick, full of emotions that even Thia herself didn’t fully understand. Sadness. Relief. Joy. It was all there.
”It is good to meet you, Dawn.” It was an overly formal greeting, perhaps, but Thia knew no other life than one that demanded formality in all things. She dipped her slender head to the girl.
”What is this place, Dawn?” Eagerness flickered in the pale woman’s black eyes before she carefully composed herself once more.
everything we are, it just went away with a slide of the tongue and a sour taste
Dawn is Beqannian, born and bred. She was born within the safe confines of the Meadow, grew up in and out of the Playground, and found a home in first Hyaline and then Silver Cove. She was raised on tales of the former Beqanna, with kingdoms bound by allegiances to good and evil and true neutral, and on tales of the kingdom that had captured her mother’s heart so long ago. Those kingdoms are so long gone that Dawn has a hard time imagining that they had even existed in the first place, and the thought of a completely different world? It has never even crossed her mind.
The cremello pauses before offering her name, and Dawn tilts her head curiously. Is she all right? Exhaustion and wariness are written into every line of her face, as if she is recovering from a long journey, and Dawn feels a bit embarrassed for interrupting the woman’s rest.
Only a few moments pass before she offers her name – Thia – and Dawn’s smile grows wider still, oblivious to the turmoil just beneath the woman’s skin. “That’s a beautiful name, Thia,” she tells her. Thia’s voice nearly seems strained – there is so much emotion there – but Dawn doesn’t press the issue, at least until she asks a question that gives her pause. What is this place?
“Oh,” she says, trying unsuccessfully to hide her surprise. “Are you not from here, Thia?” The mere thought is completely foreign to her, but she sees no other option.
Without further ado, her eyes sparkle and she launches back into speech; she is young and eager to please, and above all else wants to make friends. “Well, this is Beqanna! There’s everything here that you could possibly imagine, magicks beyond compare... it’s home to me. There are kingdoms with a volcano and towering mountains and thick forests that only an expert in the land could traverse and basically whatever you could think, it’s probably somewhere here. I’ve not been to all of the kingdoms and territories myself, though I’d love to see them all.”
Her eagerness halts briefly as she lets Thia process this information, then smiles again as she thinks of her home. “My home, in my opinion, is the most beautiful of them all. There is black sand along the beaches, and when the moon shines on the ocean the whole beach – as far as the eye can see – glows silver. My queens are strong and beautiful and just as well.”
