"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
Things aren’t necessarily back to normal by a long shot, but the regular rise and fall of the sun helps to contribute to the illusion that it is. There are faces Mazikeen wants to see again, faces she should have probably checked in with a long time ago.
What’s one more thing to make herself feel guilty about?
It’s a bright morning when she makes her way to Tephra. She’d been here before but it was more of a stopping point before heading to Islandres. Also, it had been dark and the second time she had not been able to see anything.
Now, that’s not an issue. Now she’s very much focused on this jungle and not any other tropical lands in the area. Because right now, she’s looking for Wishbone - and hoping the (now) purple mare had made it through the rest of the eclipse unharmed.
Or would she be in an entirely different body? Well, she supposed if anyone walked up to her and greeted her by name she’d find out soon enough.
Mazikeen keeps close to the border out of politeness - pacing a little as her natural horse self as she feigns exploring while waiting for someone to approach. Someone who could tell her where she could find Wishbone or - if luck was on her side - the mare herself. They’d met in the shadows, their friendship had been forged in blood, and she finds herself eager to see this new friend again.
we have a greed with which we have agreed. you think you have to want more than you need; until you have it all you won't be free. and when you think more than you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.
The sun had returned, and all of Beqanna had sighed in relief. Wishbone had spent the first few days of sunlight at the place where Svedka had disappeared with the sun. The earth had stitched itself back together in the year since it had split open, leaving no evidence that it had even swallowed a cloud-and-sky stallion. Yet the memory is a bright flare in Wishbone’s mind, and her feet find the smooth soil within moments of the sun’s arrival.
Her brother doesn’t arrive with the sun (at least, he doesn’t come from the same place he was sucked into).
Svedka’s absence had penetrated Wishbone in the days of darkness, but his continued disappearance leaves an inseparable ache. The pangare knows that life gives and takes; she understands that Death’s lust for them is a consequence of their adventurous, kindred souls. Anger nestles alongside her heartache, and when she finally leaves the clearing, Wishbone feels heat grow under her skin.
She wants to scream, to shred the native plants from their roots, to sprout wings and fly so high that she can plummet. The monsters had scattered when the shadows finally returned to the rightful places, yet Wishbone craves the opportunity to pulverize one. The purple pangare storms along the border, attempting to channel her tension into a productive task. The patrol only barely curbs her rage — turning it from thoughtless blindness into rational anger (an emotion that she had lived with for years, pacing the Afterlife’s threshold).
While her ears prick forward at the sight of Mazikeen among the jungle, even still, Wishbone must bite her tongue against her temper. The sun’s light glows in the amber of her eyes, and perhaps her heightened emotions make this light burn even brighter as she effortlessly moves through the undergrowth. “I’m missing those damned monsters right about now.” She had thought she could count on Svedka’s return with the sun, but Wishbone is beginning to realize that expectations mean shit to Beqanna.
Her attempt at saving their world had been shot down, her daughters have been lost to the whim of time, she keeps fucking changing bodies, and her brother can’t even come home. Wishbone mentally makes a note to find Ivar so she can kick him right in the face.
Smiles come a little easier to Mazikeen lately and it’s only partially due to the return of the sun. Of course, the fact that they come easily also is accompanied by guilt and an internal lecture about how stupid she’s being. And she’s still worried that whenever Gale gets back to actually stay in Hyaline things will be different, he’ll have changed his mind.
Her mind is still its usual storm of thoughts, the subjects about what she’s beating herself up about have just shifted around a little in the recent days.
Still, when Wishbone moves towards her through the jungle - the smile that lights up Mazikeen’s orange eyes is nothing short of delighted. Even when it’s clear that the other mare isn’t in the best of moods - this shifter thinks she understands what Wishbone is referring to and it's not like Wishbone is mad at her. Having monsters around to beat up was extremely handy.
“Do you want to talk about it or,” And here, simply for the dramatic effect of it all, Mazikeen shifts into a black panther - her orange eyes gleaming with amusement as her feline tail flicks behind her. “Do you want to fight that grouchiness away?” Although Mazikeen doesn’t want to fight the purple mare, she just knows perfectly well how venting out your frustration by trying to beat something - or someone - else up can help so a recreational wrestling match might be in order today. Or, at the very least, it can tire you out until you pass out and then you get a few hours of sleep where your brain is too exhausted to think about anything at all.
That’s a totally healthy way to deal with things, right?
we have a greed with which we have agreed. you think you have to want more than you need; until you have it all you won't be free. and when you think more than you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.
The beginning of a deep friendship had blossomed in the darkness of Beqanna’s Forest. It is still unfolding before them now, but it started with two mares dressed in white, black, and gold. Perhaps the monster had known what it was getting into, playing tricks on Wishbone and Mazikeen. Or maybe it didn’t realize just how far its effect would reach, stretching into the days where light returns and those two fierce mares find each other again. It seems that fighting and killing a monster (and being reformed into an entirely new body) is an event that can successfully bring friendships together.
And if Wishbone weren’t so furious at the world, she might’ve matched Mazikeen’s smile with her own. Beyond the anger, the purple mare is grateful to see her friend. She is especially thankful Mazikeen made it through the rest of the darkness, although she didn’t have any doubts that she would have suffered. Their initial encounter together had spoken volumes, and Wishbone had learned that her pale friend could hold her own among the shadows.
Despite the glow of practiced rage in the purple mare’s eyes, amusement flutters across her face when Mazikeen shifts into a panther. On most days, Wishbone is willing to discuss the trials of her life with an optimistic flare. Today, she feels neither willing nor optimistic; she wants to mutilate something to satisfy her anger, and she wants to truly feel the rage that runs through her body and consumes her mind instead of pushing it away.
It seems Mazikeen knows precisely what her friend needs. Apparently, they both know how to deal with negative emotions in entirely healthy ways. “Oh, I’m fully prepared to take out my anger however I can,” she admits.
The wrestling match soothes the majority of her anger, leaving Wishbone feeling satisfied for the time. The heat of her rage simmers below the surface, threatening to return once her Hyaline friend leaves. For now, the purple mare is content and grateful. Her chest is slick with sweat from their match, and her coat shimmers where the sun peeks through the trees.
Wishbone’s glowing amber eyes find Mazikeen’s gaze, and she says with full sincerity, “Thank you, Maze. That’s exactly what I needed.” Her eyes move to trace her friend’s face, looking deeper for the emotions that might be found there. “I should have asked before… What brings you to Tephra?”
Mazikeen is delighted when Wishbone takes her up on their offer and she enjoys the wrestling match that follows - a wilder sort of joy bright in her orange eyes as they tussle until they are both out of breath. It helps those storming thoughts of hers fade into the background, helps her focus on the lighter ones - the ones that are inspiring these easy grins.
Mazikeen was already in an excellent mood and the wrestling match has only improved it. She stretches as the panther, enjoying the flexibility of the feline shape, before shifting back into her horse self - this time with the curving horns that had appeared sometime after she had finished her quest. Her eyes dance in their warm glow when she looks back at Wishbone.
“My reasons for visiting are not nearly as important as helping you take that stick out of your ass.” There’s a wild, laughing grin before she actually replies, shaking what little tension had been left out of her body and feeling utterly relaxed. “I needed a distraction and I wanted to make sure you made it through the rest of the darkness okay without me there to help you out.”
She didn't doubt Wishbone's capability in a fight - that's part of what she liked so much about the mare but she was truly glad to see her standing here, unharmed and not in another body. Even if those genuine thoughts are buried under the ridiculous joy Maze is feeling.
we have a greed with which we have agreed. you think you have to want more than you need; until you have it all you won't be free. and when you think more than you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.
Wishbone can’t help but laugh at her friend’s comment, even when it’s directed toward her. Although this is only the second time they’ve met each other, the purple mare feels an unspoken familiarity pull them closer together. She wonders if it’s partially from her intense desire for companionship (but not in a romantic way, she’s had too many bad experiences to want something like that again), for someone to share her life with. Her childhood was spent surrounded by friends and family, and she had been deprived of all the things she loved in the Afterlife.
It makes perfect sense that she would want to surround herself again, to fill the hole that’s created by the absence of her parents, the twins, Wolfbane, and those she’s loved before.
Wishbone can’t say she loves Mazikeen, at least not yet. But she can say with certainty that her affection for her friend is growing quickly. “Well, apparently my body isn’t ready to die again, and especially not from a stick.” The Hyaline mare’s humor simmers her anger even further, and Wishbone feels herself settling into the exhaustion post-battle as if it were an old friend. Although Svedka hasn’t returned, he might one day; she convinces herself it’s okay to not think about him for a little while.
“What did you need a distraction from? Kicking ass?” Her glowing eyes shine with amusement while she turns to guide them through the jungle. There’s a particular spot she’s thinking of, a branch of the river that flows just above an underground lava stream. It creates the perfect remedy for sore muscles, and though Wishbone’s muscles feel good now, she knows it would help to relax them more.
Mazikeen laughs at Wishbone’s question as she follows the purple mare wherever the Tephran wishes to take her. “No, I could do that all day.” Or, she would do that all day, if she had the chance. Her body would probably give up on her part way through but if she could fuel herself with stubbornness, Mazikeen would find a way.
It’s easier to get her thoughts out as they move, when they’re not facing each other, and she has the lush jungle for her eyes to take in. “Someone told me he loved me.” She says this quietly, failing to fight the smile that comes. “And I know that doesn’t sound like the thing I should need distracting from but it’s just…” Okay, so maybe it wasn’t very easy to get her thoughts out - pulling apart the tangled, storming mess in her mind was not a skill she had but she thought it might be good to try, so she does. “I love him too and that is… it’s…” The word she is looking for is scary but even though she likes Wishbone, and has come to trust her in the quick way Mazikeen bonds to her friends, this is not something she’ll let herself admit outloud. Alluding to it in an obvious way is one thing but to actually admit that she is afraid?
It is a very difficult thing to admit that she’s let someone hold this much sway over her heart, and that it had been going on for much of the eclipse too - this fear hadn’t started when Gale told her that he loved her. It started when she realized she couldn’t stop thinking about him, even when those thoughts were angry.
And she’s so scared that she’s finally let in her feelings for the iridescent stallion and he’ll decide whatever happiness they can manage isn’t worth it. Or he’ll come back in a few days and tell her he spent some time thinking about it and while he had thought he loved her, he was wrong.
Mazikeen huffs when she spots a river up ahead, wondering if that was Wishbone’s destination, and tries to finish sorting out her thoughts. She won't admit any of these fears to Gale, but maybe it's okay to tell them to a friend. “I’ve never felt like this before and the joy and uncertainty are both… a lot.”
Mazikeen’s announcement isn’t exactly what Wishbone was expecting, but she is happy for her friend. She’s noticed that the amorous feelings of Beqanna often end up one of two ways — desperately in love until the end of time, or lust barely disguised as love. She’s seen plenty of lone mothers in the spring with children attached at their hips, youngsters who might never know who their fathers are. And yet she’s seen powerful families, several in Tephra, that have a close bond that might never be separated.
The purple mare nudges her friend softly with her dark nose, a smile brightening the edges of her lips. She’s about to congratulate Mazikeen when the mare continues, and doubt flickers across her face. Wishbone is certain she’d feel hesitant (dare she even say scared?) if she ever felt those powerful emotions again. Her feelings toward Wolfbane had certainly been heightened by the timing of maturity and newfound lust, but she truly had loved him. And there had been no doubt that he was her best friend, her closest friend, and that carried its own weight in love. Wishbone can’t remember feeling scared of those emotions then, but she knows she hadn’t fully understood them yet.
To be honest, she still doesn’t fully understand them.
And she knows that this in itself is scary, in its own exciting way. As they step into the warmed waters, Wishbone touches her friend’s shoulder again. “Tell me more, Maze. I’m listening.”
