04-13-2021, 02:50 PM
The light that meets the dark
Memorie was disconsolate. Her sister’s attempt at a hug was acceptable, but Cheri knew it was altogether useless. What good was hugging when they were still left stranded in the dark? Taiga was as dank a place as any in Beqanna by now, Cheri could see that much. Withering trees and crackling ferns, the few that remained. That was the home she and Mem had returned to.
Her ears were drawn with a flick of movement towards the sound of Memorie’s voice, and Cheri felt all the force of that word: failure. Every syllable was as heavy as a stone. Her head hung low, Cheri remembered the night of the quest when Amarine had tried to slip away peacefully. Her mother had seemed to understand something Cheri didn’t, or couldn’t, and she recalled the way her dam had slipped effortlessly into the shadows as Cheri fumbled to keep up. “I should’ve never gone after her.” The defeated mare knew.
Now Amarine was missing and her daughters were ghosts.
“Missing.” Cheri thought, feeling the silence grow between herself and Memorie. Missing was not dead, but it could become that. Amarine was still an unknown variable given up to the magic of Beqanna; the horses who’d gathered at the foot of that infinitely mysterious mountain had all been warned of consequences for trying to help. Her mother, the King of the North, even Reave… they were all just missing. But if they never came back?
Shuddering, Cheri pressed her waif-like body against Memories without a second thought. The moment looked grim, admittedly. Both were orphans living under the light of an endless Eclipse, heartbroken and unsure if their loved ones would ever return through the long night. They had each other in the present and that was it. The one mare’s wings blended into her sister’s, and Cheri — distracted from her panic in a moment of clarity — marveled at the idea that up until now, she and Memorie had never been closer. Before this very instant it would’ve been physically impossible, but not so anymore. They were as one… closer than she and Rey had been in their mother’s womb.
“Mem?” Cheri’s voice shattered the quiet. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Her ears were drawn with a flick of movement towards the sound of Memorie’s voice, and Cheri felt all the force of that word: failure. Every syllable was as heavy as a stone. Her head hung low, Cheri remembered the night of the quest when Amarine had tried to slip away peacefully. Her mother had seemed to understand something Cheri didn’t, or couldn’t, and she recalled the way her dam had slipped effortlessly into the shadows as Cheri fumbled to keep up. “I should’ve never gone after her.” The defeated mare knew.
Now Amarine was missing and her daughters were ghosts.
“Missing.” Cheri thought, feeling the silence grow between herself and Memorie. Missing was not dead, but it could become that. Amarine was still an unknown variable given up to the magic of Beqanna; the horses who’d gathered at the foot of that infinitely mysterious mountain had all been warned of consequences for trying to help. Her mother, the King of the North, even Reave… they were all just missing. But if they never came back?
Shuddering, Cheri pressed her waif-like body against Memories without a second thought. The moment looked grim, admittedly. Both were orphans living under the light of an endless Eclipse, heartbroken and unsure if their loved ones would ever return through the long night. They had each other in the present and that was it. The one mare’s wings blended into her sister’s, and Cheri — distracted from her panic in a moment of clarity — marveled at the idea that up until now, she and Memorie had never been closer. Before this very instant it would’ve been physically impossible, but not so anymore. They were as one… closer than she and Rey had been in their mother’s womb.
“Mem?” Cheri’s voice shattered the quiet. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
@[Memorie]