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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


    [open]  we pull apart the darkness while we can; any
    #1

    may these words be the first to find your ears
    the world is brighter than the sun now that you're here

    It is strange how quickly things can unravel, stranger still how far they will go once the momentum has built. The day had begun just like any other, unremarkable in its sameness, but when the opposing kingdoms had thrown down their challenge it had been the beginning of the end. The Desert's warriors had gone off to defend the kingdom, even their King and Queen, but no one had returned. Instead the warning came, and with it the churning of muddy tides that swallowed everything he had known. Many got out in time, but even now when he closes his eyes he can picture the motionless shadows he had seen like burn marks beneath the blue once he took to the skies to scout for his family.

    He had found most of them, and that was a comfort in and of itself, but the things he saw, the weight he felt unraveling the pieces of his fragile heart seemed too much to burden them with. Shahrizai had been loyal to the kingdom for a long while, he had known and loved many, and it was easy to see the way he ached with his own losses. Ilka did not feel the loss quite as keenly, her heart rested with Shah and not so much the kingdom, but she had young Augusta to worry about, and Heartfire was still unaccounted for. It seemed unfair to unleash his ghosts on his family, unfair when they were each already drowning in their own.

    So he is quiet when he leaves, silent when he unfurls those dark wings and takes to the evening sky, using the cloak of his shadow to conceal himself against the growing dark. For a while it is enough to sail alone in the black, to greet the stars when they twinkle out of the black like diamonds buried in a burned earth. But a quiet ache builds in his shoulders and his feathered wings protest at so much use as of late. With a sigh that feels like dissonance in his chest, he angles downward, falling through the night until his hooves strike the ground with a heavy thud. His eyes peel apart the dark, a pale, crushed gold that matches the swollen moon, and even though he doesn’t see anyone nearby, he refuses to let the shadows fade from his skin.



    Illum
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    we pull apart the darkness while we can; any - by Illum - 08-09-2016, 12:27 AM



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