forever young, i want to be forever young
The moon brings life to the night, lighting a million shards of silver that the Cove calls its beach. Summer is truly spectacular here and the moon’s stolen luminescence only lends the seaside a majesty, that some may say, it did not deserve. At night, the gulls roost high on the cliffside, nests tucked into the nooks and footholds against the ragged walls. Seals wallow on the beach where they may, though too few dot the sands now and her Father has, for the time being, put a stop to their slaughter.
Potion dozes peacefully within the Family’s den, a cave nothing more, set deep within the rock-side. In the summer it was cool and welcome, a reprieve from the sun's rays, a shield from the winds. During the winter it was warm and dry, staving off the harsh and biting air that flew over the waters. It was home.
Her Father nudges her awake, hushing her before she can ask questions and she promptly seals her lips- sometimes it is best to be quiet. To her sisters she gives a nod, a quick goodbye, but not really. If Potion has it her way they will never truly say goodbye and Khaos help those that might think otherwise.
Sea spray tickles her nostrils as she and Kirin emerge out onto the beach, a steady trek to the Valley to follow. One with few words. There are few things to say about Potions talents and the tasks that were forever set before her. Someone needed aging, though who that would be she did not yet know. Not that it mattered. She didn’t really care who or why, but as time passed perhaps she would. For now she was giddy to do Daddy’s bidding, she was elated to travel and see something other than the Cove. The same rough cliff walls, the same salty ocean, the same silver beach.
The same, the same, the same.
The silence is irritating as they stand sentinel against the shadows, waiting for Demian she guesses but who else? Surely the Valley King did not want aging, but who was she but a young girl? Who was she to assume or question the motives of a King?
She was young but three, and today she reflected that age, standing next to Kirin as a blossoming young mare. Soon that fact would really sink in but back to our visit…
It seems like forever they wait, at least to her, when Demian creeps forth from the foliage. Against him leans the tiny form of a foal, still slick from afterbirth and cleaning, barely adjusting to his weight against his thin legs. Her nose lifts at the scent, ears flickering forward as the Jaguar King speaks in hushed but urgent tones, and it is then that she knows whom she has come to change.
It is not painful, she does not wish it so, it is spectacular really- the process. The light that blinds is momentary but it washes the clearing like a beacon. The way his body molds, stretches and forms is mesmerizing, even to her. It’s always a wonder to watch them grow and shrink whichever it may be and always at her will, she smiles as she watches, another job well done.
“Demian,” Kirin nods when the task is complete, “there is your prize, I’ll return for mine within the week.” He turns to go and when she turns as well his neck swivels, twisting back at her.
“Potion, stay here.” He says in a calculated voice, eyes flashing even against the tree cover. “I’ve given you a King, and perhaps he will give you one too. I’ll be back for you in a few days.”
Her ears flatten against her skull, she knows too well what the prize is and before she can bite back with words of her own she steadies, calms. “Yes Father.” She manages the words even and proud, unyielding to the tears that threaten to fall. Tears he would not see, not from her, and with her head held high she turns to follow Demian and the boy.
Inside she prepares herself for the days to come and what that might entail, he had given her a King a traited King, she should be thanking him. Instead she was swallowing bile at his words, and nursing her feelings that he had wounded.
Potion
Kirin x Nicia
