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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    I burn from the Hell I've seen; Brinly, Any
    #13

    i burn from the hell i've seen, but the devil can't hold me down


    He has never stopped to think about the limitations of his magic; he has never had a reason to. There has been no situation that made him pause, no need to question the intricacies of the power that flowed like magma beneath his skin. If someone was cold, he warmed them with his flames. If they were too weak to walk, he carried them in his talons. And if they were broken and battered, he healed them with his tears.

    It has always been so straight forward for him, until he met her. Even the phoenix preening and ready in his breast is taken aback, unsure of the answer. She doesn't need him for warmth or transport, but he isn't sure she is broken or battered either. At least not in a manner he can heal. His tears are meant to stitch flesh and muscle, not mend aching hearts.

    He watches her carefully, his features tight with worry and concern. She is clearly aching, he can feel that deep down in the marrow of his bones. He could feel it even without that magnificent, magical bird hidden beneath his skin. He listens to her quietly, noting the dullness, the hopelessness that seems to coat her words. "We can't change our pasts, but we owe it to ourselves to learn from them, to grow from them. The scars are gotten in vain if we don't." he says softly, his dark eyes capturing the flames of hers and reflecting them back to her.

    Immortals know that lesson all too well, even though their scars will never be visible to the outside world.

    Her next question breaks through the solitude, despite it being asked so quietly. "I don't know," he answers, while the pause hangs heavily between them "I've never pushed the boundaries of my tears. I can heal things that are physically broken or damaged, but Brinly...I don't think you're either of those things." He reaches across the space, his muzzle searching for her shoulder in an offer of comfort. "The fire isn't yours. You are the fire. It doesn't respect you, because its consumed you."

    He falls quiet again, hoping he hasn't said too much. Knowing that he's probably right doesn't help much, either.


    fireheart



    @Brinly
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    Messages In This Thread
    RE: I burn from the Hell I've seen; Brinly, Any - by Fireheart - 01-28-2026, 02:56 PM



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