"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
Help me out before I drown Save me now before I give up
Love can be a poison, he knows this better than anyone, but he doesn’t suffer from it any longer. He thrives.
The transformation in the ravaged one-eyed stallion is impressive. Ledger had always tended to keep to the skinny malnourished side thanks to centuries of neglect and mistreatment, both his fault and others. Now, when he catches his reflection in the stream, he barely recognizes the horse staring back at him. There is a brightness in the gold flecked eye that had once been dull and a thick layer of muscle and fat spread across his bones. He can see his father in him now and while those emotions still bring up much confusion, he finds he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind many things now and even the bear seems to be on a mutual wavelength with him these days. As if he was a true shifter, not disconnected from his ability the way he had once been.
Loess had been good to him and Oceane was only part of that. It was his guidance of the young Cheri, his reconnection with his long-lost daughter Dawn, the sense of home and family that he had never truly felt before. And Loess is home now. He cares for the red canyons, the hidden cavern that is no longer just his but theirs. He devotes his entire life to Oceane and her kingdom, finds a purpose in living again. It doesn’t mean that he still doesn’t succumb to his anxieties from time to time. There are plenty of sleepless nights, haunting nightmares, knowing that the darkness Cheri had found in him was still there. But he no longer shoulders his burdens alone and that makes all the difference.
When he’s not instructing Cheri in the art of diplomacy, when he’s not exhausted after helping Oceane with wish after wish to better understand her new powers, when he’s not holding her close or making love to her… He continues to explore Loess. He has been here over a year now and there is still so much to see. He hasn’t met everyone that calls this place home and while Oceane doesn’t seem bothered, he wants to do better, be better, for her. So today he stretches and yawns as he exits the cave as a bear, shuffling out into the morning dawn squinting and blinking blearily. With another yawn, he snaps back into his equine shape and sets out to find someone who he has been long overdue in meeting.
With Altissima returned to her wandering ways, Tarian returned to his.
Though he had never stopped patrolling, sometimes the gray pegasus took on a second one. There were a few moments each day that he gave a brief report to Lady Oceane or her heir, Cheri, but after that? After that, Tarian would venture through the sandstone canyons and pass by the sagebrush and Joshua trees. Sometimes, he let his thoughts fly far enough that they might find the pale pegasus mare he found himself thinking of so often.
Life - for Tarian - had fallen into the idyllic rhythm of an ocean tide. His days were measured by the coming and goings of horses within Loess, by his daily (and sometimes nightly) patrols. The silver stallion didn't mind... it just made him more introspective (and thus, a little more irritable; it wasn't like Tarian to spend so much time brooding). When the Champion catches a glimpse of the ocean, it makes him think of his Mystic uncle and the gray horse stops, imagining that he can imagine the salt and brine wafting in from the distant coast.
All rivers lead to the sea, Tarian.
He hadn't understood what Jay meant then. It had been one of the last things that the Shaman had told him and Tarian frowned slightly at the words as he did at the memory now. His Uncle had greats powers in Liridon - abilities to unlock the secrets of the stars, to catch moments ahead and behind in time, the way to find connections like an astronomer might see constellations. At the time, all Tarian had wanted was to go home; he had been tired of the fighting and the death. His years as a soldier weighed heavily on him and it had been foolish to hope that Jay would have given his nephew a simple answer on how to find their home; how to get back to Paraiso.
Nothing had ever come easy for them.
(A feud, a war, a prophecy had depleted them.)
While he hadn't completely understood what Jay meant then, he tries to follow the rivers when he can. The peaceful calm of tributaries. The turbulent roar of rapids. Currents could be quick, in a race to run down the Loessian sandstone; they could be slow, peaceful - enjoying a slow pace as much as Ashhal enjoyed his naps. Water flowed much like life, he was coming to see.
This morning he wants the sea. He wants to sink into the cool, crisp shallows and wash the dirt away from his last watch. But Tarian stops because a glint of gold catches his periphery and the missing eye is hard to miss. The scars that mar his hide tell a familiar story to the gray pegasus and it earns a mark of favor with the old warrior. "Ledger?" the Champion gruffly asks. While he doesn't socialize with many of the other Loessians, he has heard enough of the Diplomat through their Southern Monarchs. "I presume." He tacts on, lifting his pale to glance over the other brute.
Help me out before I drown Save me now before I give up
Tarian is rather easy to find, standing to the shores west of the little cove Oceane had once given to him, the home they now share together. He is a striking figure of slate wings and silvery scars, his broad stance hinting to the many years he had spent in the ranks of war. He wears the title of Champion well. His own presence is not missed by the other (who probably knows this place better than anyone perhaps including the Loessian Queens themselves) who looks his way and greets him gruffly. He hadn’t doubted that Oceane had mentioned him just as she had told him of Tarian but he wonders just how much the genie had shared with him of their relationship. He doubts Oceane’s pregnancy had gone unnoticed nor the two foals that now ran rampant through the red stained canyons of Loess. It was impressed upon him that the Loessian Champion was the sort to take his rank seriously and he wonders if Tarian blames him for occupying much of Oceane's time. Not that she had ever neglected her duties that he was aware of.
“And you must be Tarian.” He greets in his whiskey toned way, a smile finding residence on his gray lips that crinkles around his good eye, seemingly brightening the gold flecks within it. He ambles towards the other where he is posted by the waves, settling just close enough to let the water washing up on the shore to rush around his hocks. He is comfortable here near the seas, at one with the waves and briny secrets of the deep thanks to the bear taking up space within him. His good eye is trained on the other, the missing one hidden beneath the thick snowy forelock that has started to fall natural over the empty socket over the years. His brands glow dimly in the rising sunlight and once he would have been more self-conscious of them, of all the marks permanently etched into his skin, but he finds now that he is not so bothered by the curious stares anymore.
That his story was worth sharing after all.
“Believe me when I say I meant to introduce myself sooner.” He begins with an apologetic grin, implying how life has a funny way of ruining ones plans or changing them completely. He had never expected to be here, to be living the life he had now, to get that second chance of fatherhood and love. And yet here he was, living it.
Ledger is mostly what Tarian expects of diplomats.
He's dealt with them little but the few encounters the silver stallion has had to, they've always come with smiles that never quite seem to touch their eyes, with velvet voices that have always been too smooth for Tarian's blunt liking. The gray observes the other brute and his crooked smile, how it pulls towards his one good eye. Both of the Loessian Queens had spoken of the flaxen chestnut, and it had gone further than just polite mentions to the pegasus. It had been made quite apparent to Tarian that both were fond of the grizzled stallion and it is for them that the white-winged soldier refrains from making an immediate judgement of Ledger.
The diplomats of the past had been silver-tongued creatures that came to Tarian to deal with the matters of parlays and truces, of armistices and cease-fires. What he remembers from his days in the Guard is that those courtiers had been willing to promise so much for their own safety - to save their skins while they retreated - while the lesser ranks laid rank and wounded, some dead and others still dying, littered across the battleground like weeds best forgotten.
Tarian blinks, remembering the wars of Liridon are nothing but ghosts in his memories now. The crashing surf reminds him that this is Loess, there are no wars, and a diplomat like Ledger (for once) is not his enemy. The blue-eyed horse isn't as easy to smile like the golden Loessian is, nor is his humor as easily brought to the surface (unless it is Altissima or Cheri). But Tarian doesn't scowl, and for the gray, that is a start.
"I'm often on patrol," Tarian says factually, explaining why he might be seen but is so rarely found as he gazes over the open water. "Once in the morning and once in the evening." The Champion states, settling his pale wings and giving life to the marble stature that he been only a moment before. He tried to keep counsel with Lady Oceane at least every few days, and he certainly had not missed her pregnancy nor the two flaxen-haired foals who now romped through the Loessian canyons. "Besides, I'm sure your... younglings take up a great deal of time."
08-22-2021, 06:07 PM (This post was last modified: 09-10-2021, 12:56 PM by Ledger.)
I'm coming back again I want to live tonight
The branded one-eyed stallion had never considered himself to be silver-tongued. Those were for the likes of Gryffen and other slick and nefarious beings. He had merely learned how to observe and listen after years of fading into the crowds of the common lands and had learned this nifty trick when he had been shunted to the shadows in the Falls where he had grown up. Librette had not wanted Magnus to find the son she had been keeping from him in his early years and so to stave off the loneliness, he learned to watch other people’s stories and imagine himself a part of them. What had been born of desperation had eventually turned into a useful skill.
But he hadn’t always been only a diplomat. After watching the Gates burn and his eventual reluctant acceptance of the bear within, he had tried his hand at War in Tephra. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been good at it but the flaxen chestnut had never had the stomach for chaos and battle and it became clearer as he aged that he no longer wanted to put himself in a position where he might turn on those he held dear, a position that only seemed to dredge up past memories that messed with his head. When Oceane had brought him into the ranks it had been a clear decision to stick to something far more… peaceful. Besides he had met the likes of both the grumpy smart-mouthed Ashhal and now this stoic warrior, it seemed Loess was well prepared to defend itself if needed. However he wouldn’t hesitate to fight if he had to, if those he loved were threatened. And unfortunately he had a worrisome feeling from the things Oceane had whispered to him in their secluded cove late at night, a feeling that he might have to step back into that “other” role sooner than he had ever wanted to.
Tarian makes him hesitate for a moment in the way that meeting Ashhal had. The gray pegasus wasn’t outright aggressive or unwelcoming as the other had been but no smile finds his steely lips and it makes the ravaged stallion pause for a moment as he talks and his own crooked grin falters slightly. He thinks of bringing up that a routine can easily be monitored by those that might wish to harm them but he gets the feeling his advice might be unwelcome here. Oceane had never talked anything but highly of the Loess Champion and so he tries to give the guy the benefit of the doubt despite his solemn exterior. At the mention of the children, his grin becomes something softer and much warmer as he glances at the serious man. “I hope they haven’t been causing any problems?” He asks genuinely, not missing the hesitation from Tarian.
The day the twins were born had been the happiest moment of his life. He had worried through Oceane’s pregnancy, had fretted he would fail her and them like he had done to the twins before. Like he had done to Dawn. And then they had come into the world and despite all the guilt from his previous failures, he looked into each of their bright eyes and saw only hope. He loves both of them dearly, these perfect creations of him and Oceane, a Loessian prince and princess. However Link in particular had wormed his way somewhere deeper into his heart than perhaps his sister had. In his son he saw the being he might have been if things had only been different. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to make sure that both his children received the childhood that he had never had. However, he did realize that having a mother as a Queen and more freedoms than most foals might receive could turn them spoilt. He was still trying to find that balance, of giving them the world but placing boundaries as well. “I know Link can be a handful.” He laughs softly, thinking of his shifter son and how he constantly seemed to pop up in the most random of places. “Do you have children?” He finally asks, thinking perhaps that might be a good start to finding common ground between them.
"Not at all," Tarian tells the other stallion of his children. He might not have any of his own, but the sound of children racing through Loess did bring him joy. It was the sound of the future, ringing and echoing against the canyon walls. It was silence (though he enjoyed his solitude) that would be the death of a kingdom. If there was no hope for the future, there was no sense in protecting the present.
The children that Ledger and Lady Oceane had brought into the world could have a part to play in the future of Loess, and Tarian found himself hoping for that. Perhaps young Cheri might repay the favor that the Queen had bestowed upon her and take one of their children as a potential heir.
But it isn't for him to consider such policies. Tarian knows what he is, and that is a soldier. His mind needs to be on their borders and keeping them secure. It needs be focused on the other realms, to remain aware and vigilant to the outside threats of their world. He readjusts his silver wings and arches his neck, glancing at the flaxen-maned stallion. Tarian knows he shouldn't be brooding either; not when there are other things for him to accomplish.
"Your son is as he should be," Tarian tells him when the other horse mentions that the boy can be a handful. "How else can a child learn their place in the world if they don't rattle it a little?" He thinks of the skirmishes that he used to get into, of the fights that he had picked as an adolescent. It had earned him his place in the Liridon Guard and that path had eventually led him here, to Loess and Altissima.
And then he tentatively answers Ledger, "No." Not entirely a lie, because his children have not been born yet. But it isn't his place to reveal the secret that that his spotted mate carries. "What about the other one?" Tarian asks, moving the subject on to something else. "I've never quite got her name."
There were many things he wanted for his children. For the twins he had lost, he hopes they have found peace wherever they may roam. For Dawn, he hopes to mend a bridge in long need of repair. For Link and Lil, he hopes they will have the childhood he never had. For all of them, he can only wish and pray that they will be spared from the cruelties he had encountered through life. That they are never handed more than they can handle.
He softens slightly as Tarian eases the worry that the twins had perhaps been up to trouble. He nods in response that the boy was as he should be but the familiar flicker of fear rises at the image the silver pegasus unintentionally conjures up with his words of wisdom. It squeezes around the heart he can now feel as he thinks of his children meeting the likes of Carnage, the rattling of bars in a cold dank cell. “I only worry about but what will come for them when the sound is heard.” He finally says quietly, the gold flecks of his good eye dim with haunted memories. At least one of his prayers had been answered when Lil hadn’t inherited his bear at all and Link’s had turned out to be something far more docile then the one he carried, a wish granted that he never had to speak aloud.
Tarian does not have children but he doesn’t question him further on it, knowing its not his place to do so. Instead the conversation continues pleasantly enough on his own and he chuckles softly. “You mean Lillibet.” He says with the warmth that always comes when he thinks of her. “Smart, like her mother. A dreamer too.” Link loved to explore and Lil loved listening to her mother’s stories. His daughter had wanted his tales as well but he had hesitated, knowing his were fuel for nightmares instead of dreams, and resolved to tell them one day when they were older.
For now he would rather keep them in the dark. Let them enjoy the bliss and ignorance that comes with childhood.
“Are you ready for the coronation?” He finally asks, wondering if Tarian was excited for the changes to come or held some reservations. They had all watched Cheri blossom into the role she would soon be carrying solo and he feels that sense of pride again, that he for once had helped do something of worth to a kingdom instead of failing them when they needed him most.
First, as the Heir of Paraiso, there had been lessons and protocols and patrols; his education was to be the foundation as the next Guardian, and even when he had wanted to cling to Kalina's dark flank, Tarian had been pulled away from her onyx side again and again in preparation for who he was to become.
To become what was necessary for the future of his bloodline.
"So, teach them." Tarian says firmly. (Again, not unkindly. But it will be something that he will do with his own young someday. He assumes that his own children will be tested as he had been - as Altissima had been - and the gray pegasus doesn't expect the world to be any kinder to them as it had been to their parents.) The Champion thinks of the struggles of his youth - the loss of Paraiso, Broch's death and the fall of Culloden, Liridon and its wars - and the winged stallion decides that these will all be things his children will know.
Death, betrayal, battle; the child he shares with Wildling will be always be prepared for the worst.
The stoic horse exhales softly with his dark nostrils flaring as Ledger continues to speak about the filly that Tarian has seen running through the canyons and ravines of Loess. His expression softens slightly at the mention of her name - Lillibet - and the straight line of his mouth curves slightly. The little girl certainly sounds like she takes after her mother, Lady Oceane, and though the silver pegasus is renowned for his somber nature, he is also known for his fondness of the two Loessian rulers.
"She sounds like a Queen already," he goes on, teasing a little but also thinking there might be benefits for the South if the crowns were to be inherited matrilineally. Perhaps his cousin might be the mentor for Oceane's daughter one day. "Cheri will be a great one," Tarian says with deep and rumbling conviction from his chest, because how could she not be? Tutored under a great monarch herself and there is a thrum of pride when he lifts his noble head, because the same blood that flows in his veins - the blood of Legado, Ichiro, Valerio - also flows in her (as it will in his children).
Cheri was many things, he reminded himself. He had never met her father and knew even less of her mother. But one of the reasons Tarian is proud is the same for the young Queen. "She reminds me about our stories of the Old Ones. Those who could call storms and banish Winter. Windwalkers." He repeats, recalling the fables from his younger years. "They kept what was cold and cruel from lasting."
”So teach them.” Tarian is right in this, he knows his children will need to be prepared before they run into the mounters and dark gods of Beqanna that were waiting for them. Still, he hesitates. He does not know the gray pegasus well enough to tell him of his own ruined childhood. Just a little while longer, he thinks. Just let them enjoy it a little longer, a life of ignorance and bliss. A life he had never gotten to experience for himself. So he simply nods and keeps his uncertainty to himself.
Moving on to Lillibet lightens the mood and he can see the hard edge of Tarian’s smile ease into something softer which only makes his good eye brighten even more with pride. He is pleased to see his daughter has struck a chord with the other stallion and he nods in agreement, a soft short laugh escaping him. “I wouldn’t doubt it.” He responds to his teasing words. Link was intelligent but might not have the patience for such things but his twin was bright and he can see his mate in her, all the things that made her a respected and successful ruler. Just as Cheri will be. “Of that I have no doubt.” And there is matching pride in his own voice, pleased that for once he had done some good in this world even if it hadn’t been much. The Champion speaks of old stories that he has never heard before despite his travels outside of Beqanna. “There is something about her that reminds me of old legends.” He admits. “I only hope she is ready for what’s to come.” He murmurs quietly, the brightness fading in his eye as he recalls what he had learned from his twilight mate. Dark magic to the East that he wants no part of.
“I’ll be honest with you Tarian. Oceane wishes to move the family away from Loess, to give Cheri the space she deserves to rule I assume, but for the twins sake…. I wish we could stay.” No matter how much he might miss his family when he makes the trek to Sylva, he at least knows they will be well guarded and watched over. In the autumn woodlands, such things aren’t guaranteed. And with whatever was brewing, old tensions that he remembers from centuries ago, he’s not sure he can protect them as well as he would like in such a place as Sylva.
