gaza
Even though he heard Ima’s voice loud and clear, it still took Gaza a long time to turn his head towards his first home. Without saying exactly what it was that she needed him for, he found it hard to stop everything he was doing (which was nothing, to be perfectly honest) and hightail it back to the place of his birth. He is loathe to admit any weakness, but the sands hold too much of his father for him to ever be happy there. If Yael had said Gaza, I need you, or had asked for help, or had had even the slightest hit of urgency in her mind-voice, he would have been there as fast as his legs could carry him.
This time, however, Ima is coy and will only go so far as to say that he will like what is in the Desert.
Never in a million years would he have dreamed that it was his Abba. He does not turn his senses to search for familiar scents until he is halfway between the Gates and the Desert, and when he does, he finds he must turn everything towards the kingdom, just to verify what he thinks is impossible. He forgets that with Yael, nothing is truly impossible.
One he has the sound and the scent and hears the thudding of a large heart, Gaza churns his heavy hooves, throwing up clods of earth behind him in a sweat-breaking gallop. Damn the sun and the almost summer heat that intensifies as he passes through the empty Rapids and Orange Country (where his own half-brother’s smell is still strong in his super sensitive nose). Pushing through muscle fatigue and a foamy lather that has worked itself up on his black coat, he finally allows himself to slow down to a brisk canter when he reaches the Desert’s border. And now he turns his ears back on, listening to the whole conversation, even though he is easily more than a few dunes away. Like a true son of the Desert, he readjusts quickly to his sand legs but wishes secretly that he had wings to more easily clear the distance.
Smells come next - some of which he can easily identify; Kreios, whom he grew up with, and a mare he’s never met, but because she calls Vanquish ‘Dad’ and smells like their Ima, he can only conclude that she is Etro. When he crests a dune, Gaza can see the oak only a little ways away and as he pauses to catch his breath, hawk-like eyes narrow in on the assembled. Kreios, again, is easily identifiable, and Etro has the same weird in-betweeness that can only come from such a massive size difference like their parents. But then there is a girl that looks lik Lyris - but he knows it isn’t. Lyris would not be summoned here, but her - no, their - daughter would be. A mulberry colt that he will shortly figure out, and another spotted boy.
Gaza can’t help but chuckle out loud. His daughter could easily be one of Kreios or Kratos’ children. Wouldn’t Vanquish be surprised to hear that she’s his? Ah, but that gold coronet should be a clue that she is one of Yael’s. From his own golden gaze to the metallic strands in Rucker’s mane and the girl’s little ankle bracelet. His Ima had certainly been busy marking her own. Damn! If he had known, he would have brough Rucker. The boy had probably heard the voice too, but… he doesn’t want his son to think he’d left him behind. Oh well, nothing he could do about it now.
But back to the strangers… the black and white pintaloosa is a complete mystery, carrying neither familiar smells nor a coloring to indicate whose he might be. Van had answered the question as to who the mulberry boy was (his nephew - and he can smell the Chamber in his pores, the mystery that lays in his veins in the same way that magic is in every cell of his Ima’s - and yet it is different). And yet, noticeably absent are the rest of his wombmates. No sign of Akbar and Kitra yet. Just as it always was. He shouldn’t even be surprised any more.
Unfortunately, as he draws closer he finds his abilities are fading, each smell harder to decipher and words seem mumbled. Lexa’s golden anklet disappears. Finally, he tops the final dune and it is as if a smaller, non-winged version of Vanquish has appeared. He’s a bit shinier (even with a dark blanket of perspiration), and there is only light feathering at his hocks, but there can be no mistaking him for one of Vanquish’s brood. Etiquette and self-consciousness be damned, Gaza calls out to his father with a deep and joyful voice. Unlike Kreios, he’s only ever known their father’s love. Unlike Etro, he’s never felt sickness from being here. And unlike the youngsters, he recognized the voice and the figure beneath the tree. “Abba!” he hails him as, using the name that only Yael’s children do. “What…?” he says in between heavy breaths (damn that Gates sweetgrass… he’s just a little out of shape). “How…?”
And then he turns his gaze to Lexa, and that elated expression widens in the way that only a father’s can. “You… you look so much like your mother. I’m Gaza. Your dad.” Obviously. She need only look at his eyes and recognize the same color that decorates her ankle.
vanquish x yael