[private] of the shackles and the dream

[Nashua]

NASHUA

"I’ll be back,” Nashua passively murmurs one spring morning to his twin brother.

It had become more of a habit with the chestnut yearling of late, of telling Yan, his Aunt Elaina or Brazen, his Celina - whoever happened to be there - that he was leaving. As the time passed that his mother hadn’t returned to Taiga, it became important to Nashua that his family knew he was staying. That if he went missing too, it wasn’t on purpose. 

With each passing day, it became more important that his family knew he intended on coming back. 

The fog had rolled in heavy with the dawn and it clung to his wings, the damp and his scent intermingling into a smell that would forever remind Nash of his childhood. He had wanted the skies - and some part of him still does, still longs for the openness of them - but that dream has been overridden by a creeping fear that keeps him grounded to the northern forest. (Nash doesn’t tell his twin that someday he worries that Yan will become something so intangible that he’d never find him again. Nash doesn’t tell Celina the real reasons he follows her when she prowls the outskirts of the Redwoods or why he attempts to find her the best fishing spots along the Taigan coastline. Even his aunts (and how fortunate is he to have two of both bloods?) don’t feel permanent to the winged boy. 

And that is a funny feeling - especially to a child - to feel ephemeral in a place that feels as ancient and solid as Taiga does. 

The pegasus yearling slips around the new growth of a primordial fern and when the wind blows past him just right, Nash lifts his head to catch a familiar scent coming from the shore. Turning away from the trail that he had been following, it is easy to spy Elio against looming crags that guard the beaches. The boy feels a flood of relief crash against his chest as comes alongside the golden stallion. "Fire Wing,” Nash whispers, letting the edges of his auburn wings brush against the vibrant red of the older pegasus. 

He casts his uncertain green eyes out to the ocean, "I keep feeling like…  I’m afraid, @[elio]. I’m afraid I’ll blink and somebody else will be gone.”

Nash’s stomach is in knots but as he glances to the striped pegasus, he isn’t afraid to quietly admit: "I’m glad you’re here.”

and for every king that died
they would crown another

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