"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
At first, the pale magician is so lost in her own thoughts she does not notice an approach. It’s only when Liv speaks the shortened form of her name that Beyza’s glow evens out and her white eyes look up to see her friend. She stirs from her thoughts slowly, like waking from a deep sleep, and instinct alone inspires the smile and the quiet “Hello Liv” she offers when the fanged mare touches her shoulder. She’s not sure how to answer the question posed next - she should be alright, shouldn’t she? She should be on top of the moon.
Beyza is still sorting out her thoughts and how to share them when Liv speaks again. He told me. Shame and guilt churn through the white mare and she looks away - off into the dark woods. The source of these feelings coming from too many directions to name them all. She should have thought about what it would be like to speak of the situation with Liv, should have weighed that as a reason not to… But she hadn’t. In the moment she had only thought of him, how perfect everything seemed.
It did not seem that way anymore. So much has changed.
She does not answer the question directly and instead shares a piece of what’s on her mind when she looks back to Liv - trying to read the other's expression in what light her glow gives. “Do you think he’ll love them?” She asks in a hollow voice, and even though she cannot speak the rest of the question she shares the image of the sick patchwork filly that had died here. Even if they’re frail like he had once been, even if they’re powerless?
Beyza thought she would care but the first time she sensed life, the first time she caught one of their shapeless dreams, she knew it would not matter to her. Even that knowledge that she would have given Jamie whatever he asked for is dwarfed by the instinct and compulsion to love these girls. She wants more for their children than to be puppets or pieces in someone else’s dream. She wants them to grow up whole, loved, and filled with life.
She’s not sure she could ever bring herself to ask Jamie these questions but Liv is different. That has always been true. There’s an ease here with this twin that does not exist with the other. A sense that she does not have to offer to change the world in order to be worthy of attention.
