"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
Melitusa had been a restricting cage; a place filled with rules and regulations that constricted around ones throat until they had had no other option but to submit. However, Melitusa had been a place where there had been some semblance of structure for him. He had had a set schedule — grueling and exhausting, yes, but a schedule nonetheless. He would rise each new day with the knowledge that certain tasks would be laid out before him, and at the end of each day, he knew he would be going to that small little place of refuge he'd found.
But here? There was nothing like that here.
He'd spent the months simple floating, sequestering himself away from all that might be prone to interacting with him. It had not been his original plan; the plan had been to learn all he could, integrate himself into some place and see what this land might have to offer when it came to a tortured, tattered being like him.
But instead, he'd drifted without care. Even then, though, he had heard of some of the happenings in the land, one of which concerned the recent destruction in a territory that was in a kingdom past Loess. He'd never been in that direction, sticking to the more common areas as he had, but he had still been able to hear of it.
Now, however, he had made his way from there and back to the by now familiar lands of Loess. He was still not one of her people, and he knew nothing of what has occurred concerning her inner workings, so this is why he is searching for one that is not currently there. She hasn't been for some time now.
Perhaps, had he known, he would not have gone through the forest and would have instead gone the opposite direction. He never had a place in the life of Ocean beyond a mere acquaintanceship though, and so he had gone to the only place he knew her to be. Believing that he had left ample time between their last meeting for her to have grown accustomed to raising her child, while also hoping enough time had passed that he wouldn't intrude on the life she already had before they met.
He remembered the gully which he had been given the privilege of being shown. It was the place she had told him she would mainly be around, and since he hadn't seen her in some time it was the last place he knew to go.
With the summer sun keeping him company, he came upon the hidden away pond and willow, the water-level appearing to be lower than what he remembered. It's a simple detail and as he comes to stop, surrounded by sandstone walls, he knows that it's been some time since another has been here. Not unexpected, but he admits he had hoped it would have been easier.
Life rarely was, though.
His shakes out his wearied muscles, his eyes drifting around the area as he then moves to see if he might possibly glean anything from what was around. He highly doubted it, and more than likely he would have to leave here with the knowledge that he'd have to come to see the winged mare another time. He didn't mind that, but he also knows he would have preferred to see her now than later.
He doesn't look for long, not since he is highly aware of the day and knows it would be best for him to find his way out of the borders before nightfall. He was unbound and unchained, and he did not want to be found here and have someone believe he was causing trouble. Which, to him, was a hilarious thing to believe he might be up to. He never caused trouble.
He hummed, disappointment but also acceptance coating the single note as he uselessly dug a hoof into the ground. That was that then.
An ear twitched backward and he began to turn away from the image of the willow that he had remembered well enough. The only option was to head back towards the common lands. It was as he turned though that Soran suddenly realized he was not the only one present. His ears flickered to attention as his expression showed a mix of surprise and interest as his eyes fell upon the brightly colored coat of the child he now looked at.
His movements stopped, and the smile he had always presented any child with instantly appeared on his face. It was kind, welcoming, and showed that he was far from a threat. Although, he didn't know how the younger one would react to his scarring. "Hello there," he greeted warmly as he relaxed his stance, "Who might you be?"
i have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laugh-silvered wings
He always returns to the canyon den in those hours that his heart aches a little harder for Oceane. The scent of his mother has long since faded from the sandstone, her absence measuring nearly a year by this point, but Alcinder can still hear the way her laughter echoes through the caverns. He can still hear the splashing of the murky basin from the day they'd made a competition of running down the canyon pathway and rocketing their bodies into the water.
A gentle sigh escapes the yearling's ajar maw as he curls into a small, rocky hovel carved by water millions of years prior into the wall of the canyon. Alcinder wraps his two-toned wings around his lithe and still-leggy body, settling in for a nap in the safety of his den. Their den.
His nap is short, interrupted by hoof falls on sandstone. He'd been a light sleeper for as long as he can remember ─ with a first year of life riddled full of captivity and absent parents (as understanding as he is, for such a young boy), he hasn't been afforded the option to be a deep sleeper.
Alcinder steps out of the small cave and into the open, half-expecting Aunt Lepis to be enjoying prickly pear by the trunk of the willow, but instead ─
"Hello..." suspicion seeps into his greeting, despite the warmth of the man's face. Not many knew the existence of their canyon den, but even so, the last strange man to slip between the sandstone walls had been the one who'd swept Alcinder away and to the wasteland of Pangea. "Alcinder," he tells the man as he feigns a stretch of his wings; better to take off with swiftly, if they're already open. Aunt Lepis had taught him that.
But as the wind catches the stallion's scent and carries it to the boy's waiting nostrils, there's a small tendril of recognition that takes hold. He has smelled it before, faint on Oceane's opaline coat. "Are you friends with my mom?" he asks outright, his intelligent silvered eyes exploring the face of the stranger for anything that might be amiss.
The suspicion he hears coating the younger ones words and transforming their expression is a relief. Alone as the other one is, it's comforting to see the distrust. Soran keeps his stance relaxed, hitching up a hindleg while keeping his expression calm and warm. Again, he holds no malicious intent and hopefully the young boy will come to learn this.
His gratitude for the other telling him their name shines in his eyes, and Soran bows his head in thanks.
(A part of him wonders where the other's parents are, or if they have any friends, but those are personal questions that Soran has no right to ask.)
He takes note of how the younger one spreads their wings, and since Soran has none himself he is uncertain as to the purpose of doing so. Perhaps, the other is merely stretching them out. As with Oceane, a boyish part of him wonders what it must be like to have the ability to fly. "It's nice to meet you, Alcinder." The pleasantry is sincere, and Soran makes sure to keep himself cemented to the spot he has come to stand. "My name is Soran — again, it's nice to meet you." It's clear that he's trying to keep this introduction between them pleasant, and that he is trying his best to show the other that he truly means no harm. Besides, he was on his way out, the one he was looking for isn't here.
He doesn't have any idea of where she could be.
"I was just about to lea-" Words stop, and even though the boy before him is young Soran finds himself silenced by the others questioned.
His mother?
Immediately his head is cocking to the side, and his expression shows how his interest is piqued. He gives himself a moment to actually, fully, take in the appearance of the boy. The wings would make more sense, as would the coat Alcinder sports, though Oceane did have some eye-catching violets and purples on her coat. The white markings the boy has are something Soran assumes the boy has inherited from his father. Although, whether that is true or not Soran doesn't know. He never dared to intrude on Oceane and ask after the father of her unborn child.
Even then, aside from Alcinder's looks (for he can see this being the child of Oceane) it would make sense that he would be here, especially if this is the place he had been born.
None of this, though, took into account just how grown the boy already was. Had it truly been that long since Soran had last seen Oceane? He understood some time had passed but he hadn't thought that much time had. Seems he had lost his touch with reality more than he had realized. How much had happened during the time he had last seen Oceane and now?
Furthermore, where even was Oceane?
"If your mother is Oceane of Loess, then yes." Is the straightforward answer he gives, knowing that there is no need for him to be overly cryptic or even deflect the boy's question with one of his own.
He had never expected to meet Oceane's child without her there, and a sliver of concern erupts in him. Where had Oceane gone that Alcinder wouldn't be, at the very least, somewhere close?
"I met her not too long before she had you, so if that is your mother, would you be able to tell me where she is?" He questions, unable to hold back the concern in his voice or how he stands at attention now. He knows he has no real right to know, but so long as he knows she is alright that is good enough for him. "I've been away for a long time and I came to see her — and to meet you, actually." He explains, knowing that the boy has a right to know why he was here.
i have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laugh-silvered wings
"She isn't here," he tells the stallion after a long, drawn out silence in which he debated on whether or not his mother's absence was something he should tell someone he doesn't know. But Soran's face is gentle enough, kind enough, that Alcinder feels comfortable in his presence ─ and surely he could not have known to look for Oceane in this canyon den if she had not been the one to tell him?
His suspicion breaks into a small smile when the scarred man says he had intended for this trip to be both a reunion and a meeting. If only Oceane was not trapped in the depths of the wasteland for another season. "My mother was stolen," he says finally before pressing his tongue to the back of his blunted teeth. The yearling, nearing the halfway point between his first and second birthday now, wars with himself ─ his need for connection versus his budding knowledge of diplomacy that tells him not to discuss politics with outsiders.
"By Pangea." His need for connection wins out, in the end, as he watches Soran's kind eyes. The confession, that his mother has not only been taken from Loess but from him, as well, causes the young boy's throat to tighten and he clears it gruffly to avoid the awkward, uncomfortable sensation. His steady gaze falters and he turns to inspect the willow tree across the pond as if this is his first time laying his silvered eyes upon its sweeping boughs. He shifts his weight as he stares, unsure what else to tell the stallion before him.
An idea blooms within him quite suddenly, and as he turns his hopeful eyes back to the scarred stallion, Alcinder smiles excitedly. "You could stay, though," the words rush out, bolstered by his youthful innocence, "Until she comes back. You could stay." He knows how much his mother values friendship, even when she tries to hold those emotions close to her chest, and Alcinder can only imagine how she would feel to be greeted upon her return together by him, Aunt Lepis, and Soran.
He knows how to plan out a simple meeting between common men and the one who oversees them, knows how to navigate the difficult minefield that is discussing negotiations with another party, knows about making compromises in order to reach a mutual agreement. He also knows the look on the faces of the boys - just on the cusp of manhood - when they fell to their knees in submission before the Lord of Melitusa. He also knows how to gently comfort a common civilian after being denied the help they needed in order to ensure that the Lord was able to maintain the lifestyle he so cherished.
He knows many things, but when young Alcinder tells him that Oceane has been stolen it is made more obvious than ever that he knows nothing and he is but a simple speck floating adrift; a bystander barred from all and only able to see through a small window mercifully given to him to look through.
His ears pressed back against his head in concern, his eyes showing the same emotion. It is a vague answer and it leaves the man who has always depended on knowing at least something to press on for more, but he knows his place. No matter if he knows Oceane, respects her and respects the small bud that their acquaintanceship has become, it is not his place.
Again, Soran is but a speck. He holds little importance in the life of Oceane so he cannot go about this like an entitled fool who believes the world and everyone in it owe him answers.
Thankfully, he does not need to ask. Alcinder offers him more, and Soran knows enough that the name rings a bell. He had never been to Pangea - has never gone beyond the common lands or Loess - but he knows where the land is and a basic description of its territory. Soran also now knows that, given Alcinder said by Pangea itself and not a specific individual, that there has to be something concerning politics tied to this.
Soran knew politics well, still enjoyed them to an extent, but he knew the darkest part of it and didn't enjoy that at all.
"Thank you for telling me, Alcinder. I appreciate knowing." He means it, because the boy truly had no reason to let him know at all. He could have said Oceane was out for a while and left it at that and Soran would have simply left, but he hadn't.
(The idea that Soran could make a trip to Pangea slithers into his mind. He quickly disregards it, knowing the foolishness that is attached to such a thought. He has no place doing such a thing.)
If Oceane is gone, though, who exactly was taking care of Alcinder? Soran hoped it was the boy's father (whoever the man was) but given that the boy was here by himself Soran wasn't too sure.
The chance to ask is quickly taken from him though by Alcinder's excited words. They snap Soran into attention, his ears going for and his eyes show his surprise before his expression turns empathetic.
The little dwelling in Melitusa appears in his mind, the mother standing quietly in the shadows as Soran spoke quietly to the young child with tears staining her cheeks.
"I'm sorry my dear, but I can't-"
"You always say that."
"Palorri, dear, please understand."
"Just forget it."
Already Soran's heart fractures at knowing he will not be able to do that. He puts on his most agreeable smile (a dusty thing, but it comes to him like an old friend), "That's a wonderful idea," and Soran knows he would stay but he is no one of importance, and staying within the borders of land he does not belong to could cause issues for Alcinder and Oceane, "but I won't be able to do that my dear Alcinder." His voice is apologetic; he truly does regret not being able to. He knows the excitement Alcinder just felt must be completely gone now.
He has done this multiple times before, but it never gets easier to tell a young child that you can't do something they so clearly want.
"It's better for you and your mother if I don't do that." He tries to explain. "It could lead to trouble." Soran tacks on at the end despite Soran not agreeing he can't simply leave the boy here not knowing if he has someone watching over him.
"Are you here all by yourself? Who is watching you while your mother is gone?"
i have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laugh-silvered wings
That's a wonderful idea.
Alcinder recognizes it for the placation it is even before Soran is able to slip the 'but...' into his sentence. His hopeful expectation turns to something resembling disappointment as his silvered eyes harden against the older stallion's niceties, and though the Prince of Loess can hear the genuine apology in the man's tone, it doesn't do much to amend the young boy's feelings on the matter. He had come to see Oceane, had he not? Certainly whatever it was that had been so important that he traveled the length of Beqanna to see her could not be foiled by the few weeks he would need to wait for her return.
It could lead to trouble.
Despite his youth, he knows that there are limitations to his knowledge ─ Aunt Lepis has taught him much by way of social etiquette and diplomacy, but he is not foolish enough to believe that she has taught him everything. But this stallion smells naught of Pangea or Icicle Isle, the only two kingdoms he wold expect to see trouble from, and Soran's intentions ─ at least, through the colt's young eyes ─ is not to bring harm to Loess or those within it.
"If you are a friend of my mom's, your presence will cause no trouble here," he tells Soran with a practiced, older tone, as if falling into a mirror image of Lepis when she is in the midst of diplomatic negotiations. "My Aunt Lepis is in charge now, and she won't mind you staying," he tacks on, ignoring the older stallion's question about his chaperones.
Alcinder's silver eyes watch the scarred stallion's, searching for any indication that he may change his mind, before he offers a sheepish grin to the man and says ─ in the same tone he had used with Fenwe that day in the Meadow ─ "Stay. Until she comes home." A command, fueled by the Mind Control he still does not know or realize he possesses.
04-25-2020, 12:50 PM (This post was last modified: 04-25-2020, 04:02 PM by Soran.)
the sea spoke
The trouble Soran speaks of does not involve mere politics — those would be far easier to handle that what he means. Of course, to expect a young colt to understand all that his words suggest is too much, and Soran knew that and had hoped that the simple word 'trouble' would have been enough.
Clearly, he is wrong.
Soran is a drifter, and a meager nomad such as him has no reason for being here. To find him within the Loessian lands for the simple reason of seeing someone who - he assumed for he had never asked - had a life outside of him, a family, would bring up questions. He did not want such things to befall a woman who had been nothing but kind to him.
Explaining that to her son of all people seems impossible. However, he does not even get the chance to try for the boy suddenly seems to grow more confident, the faint disappointment leaving his eyes.
The almost diplomatic air that comes to surround the boy is surprising, but Soran finds himself feeling proud of Alcinder. But, also sad. A boy young, yet already more mature than Soran had seen other young boys in Melitusa. The only boys he had seen act in a manner similar to were those that had been pushed into the world by things beyond their control.
Regardless, Soran listens, and while one might have mocked the boy for trying to take the reigns Soran did nothing more than treat him as someone worthy of his attention and focus. Still, even if the boy assured him all would be fine since his Aunt was in power Soran knew he couldn't, uncaring of how Alcinder had disregarded his question about who was watching over him.
Soran cannot stay, that is that. While there is a temptation to give in it is small and not enough to make him sway.
His gaze remains on the boy, his mind not once faltering in its decision until the moment Alcinder speaks a command that neither of them knows truly cannot be denied. It is not as if a fog comes over him and he becomes a puppet to the boy's whims — perhaps it might be that way for others, but for Soran it is simply as if his own mind has suddenly decided that disappointing Alcinder further would hurt more than Soran wanted it to. It is as if the tempting thought of staying now has more pros than cons, and they are all ones that Soran believes his mind has found.
To Soran, Alcinder has done nothing. Perhaps, one day he might come to learn the young boy has, but for now, none are the wiser.
Even then, despite Soran suddenly finding himself more willing to stay, he does not jump like an excited dog at the opportunity. No, his expression just turns dim, accepting his fate with a solemn shake of his head as Alcinder tells him his mother would want him to stay.
"Alright," he says with a sigh, "But only until she's home." He has enough awareness of his own mind to make sure that stipulation is one that will not be broken. He will stay until then, and no longer.
Soran has signed the deal and so now there is nothing to do but simply embrace it, however reluctant he might be. He won't let this be a depressing endeavor, and he hopes nothing terrible comes from this (hopes, even though a similar decision has resulted in death). "Well then, Alcinder, care to tell me what you do for fun around here?"
