"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
I tried to sell my soul last night Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
He doesn’t know why he had even bothered to come. He shouldn’t have, and yet here he is. Boredom perhaps. Or maybe a perverse sort of the same masochism he had accused her of the one and only time he’d ever seen her. And yet, despite his callous accusations and brutish behavior, she had invited him here. Spit at him in irritation, but an invitation all the same.
And stupid idiot that he is, those words had stuck inside his head. It has been such a long time since anyone had actually bothered to offer such a thing that he’d been blindsided by it. Though she had left him with anger burning inside his gut, once it had cooled he had actually thought about what she’d said.
Though he had refused to claim her as his daughter, a part of him couldn’t help but be almost… proud? But gods, who would ever have thought anyone with his worthless blood in them could amount to anything. No doubt she’d been better served by him not being in her life.
He would freely admit he’d been a complete and utter ass, but he always has been. Better she learned that than to imagine he could be anything to rely on. Nor had he come now to try to claim any place in her life as a relation. No, he is here because he’d grown comfortable in having a place to call his. After Loess had sunk into the ocean and he’d been set adrift once more, the loss of that comfort had struck him the hardest.
As he strides into the volcanic kingdom, wings settling at his sides from the flight over, he realizes he does actually know why he had come. He wants that comfort back.
@Casimira
Also open if anyone else wants to annoy him
It’s his daughter who can’t seem to stop looking for survivors. Nearly two years have passed since the Sinking of the South, and while Tarian still takes the occasional flight over the sea that had once been his home, he has come to accept that there were some faces that didn’t escape the floodwaters in time. The earth shaking and then the waves that came after had been too quick; he had been fortunate enough to have been born with wings.
When the ground had gone and the ocean roared, it had been to the sky that Tarian swept into.
There were many missing that still bothered him. What had happened to the young Queen especially nagged at him, because hadn’t it been his duty to protect her? Cheri had supposedly disappeared some time before the South sank, but those rumors did nothing to ease his guilt. What of Lady Oceane and her family?
What of Ashhal, to whom he owed his life?
He’d never forgotten the other gray. Ashhal had saved his life during the Eclipse, taking a nasty bite intended for him. He’d somehow convinced him to return to Loess, and while Tarian had rarely associated with anyone besides the Queens he served or Altissima, he appreciated the brusque manner of the sterling pegasus. It was company he could actually tolerate; it reminded him of the days that he had served in the Guard, where most of the interactions had been short and blunt.
Tarian’s own daughter - a lively, bright creature in the mid-morning sun - teases him as she spreads her dark wings. She doesn’t hesitate (or even look back) as she takes off. He’d planned to accompany her but something stays him. A familiar shade of gray comes into view at the corner of his vision and the blue-eyed stallion turns sharply to face him, snorting in disbelief at the sight.
She had not expected him to come, and it had been the foolish fantasy of a little girl to think that he might. For days after first running into Tarian and letting her hopes trick her into thinking he was a different gray pegasus she had been fighting the embers of humiliation that simmered at the core of her chest. She was not often one to fall prey to fanciful emotions. Even as a young girl, as she grappled with learning to control her dragon shifting, much of her carefree and mischievous spirit had been seemingly burnt away by the fire she struggled to keep cages, and in the ashes they left behind something much more solemn.
She has lived and died too many times to be caught up in such things; to ever dare to hope that someone would prove to be anything other than what they have shown her.
And maybe if he were anyone else, she would have eventually come to her senses. Maybe if he were not her father, not the man she had been thinking and wondering about for her entire life, she could have anchored herself back to reality.
But it seemed that, perhaps when it comes to him, she will always be a foolish little girl.
She is not thinking of Ashhal at this very moment, though. Her mind is always going nearly every direction, thoughts shooting off from each other like streams from a river, always seeming to roll ahead of her and each one of them begging her to follow it. The sight of the two gray stallions jars her from her thoughts, her mind leaping from it’s him, it’s not him, and then back to it ishim almost faster than she can grasp.
Her heart clenches in her chest, but so does her jaw, and without even thinking she erects the familiar shield she usually sheltered behind. She had learned, unfortunately, that as badly as she wanted her father to harbor even an ounce of affection for her that he simply does not, and that she cannot afford to let her guard down around him—just as she doesn’t for nearly anyone else.
“You two know each other?” she says as she approaches them, taking in the way Tarian seems to be looking at Ashhal as if he is not a stranger. It is on Tarian where her ice-blue eyes focus first, and the smile that she offers him is less poised and more genuine as she nods her head in greeting. “I’m glad to see you have decided to stay in Tephra, Tarian. I hope Altissima is enjoying it here, too,” she tells him kindly. While Tephra had several familiar, much more secluded faces—such as Nightlock and Wonder and their children—it was always a delight to see new ones discovering the beauty of the volcanic kingdom, and she was glad that this particular duo did not seem to plan on leaving.
And now, she turns her gaze to Ashhal, careful to keep the shield in place while not allowing her smile to turn into anything less than what she had just given Tarian—not letting herself turn entirely frigid for the sake of protecting herself. “Have you ever been to Tephra before?” It is the safest thing she can think of to say. She does not call him by name, or call him dad. She does not tell him that she had not thought he would ever come here, and she does not tell him that she is glad that he is here. She knows none of those are things that he wants to hear, but that same hope is trying to rekindle in her chest, and she thinks that if she is careful enough, he just might stay.
idk why this was so long, so if you dont want to read it, I entirely understand
I tried to sell my soul last night Funny, he wouldn't even take a bite
The first face he sees is not a face he had expected, though perhaps he should have. After their mutual home had sunk, he would have needed to find a place to stay, so why not the neighboring kingdom? To his immense surprise, there is a small kernel of something almost like… relief? at seeing Tarian’s familiar features. He quashes it quickly, annoyance rising in its place, but he does not deny the other pegasus.
“Tarian,” he grunts in reply, his dark eyes flat as they survey the other stallion. The man had been the closest thing to a friend Ashhal has had in a very long time, though he would hesitate to call them anything more than an acquaintance who he disliked less than he disliked most others.
When his gaze slips past Tarian to land on another, the harsh lines of his face go blank, revealing nothing of what he feels. In truth, he’s not entirely certain what it is he feels anyway. His chest tightens, irritation, confusion, and something almost like guilt sparking and dying in quick succession. Whatever it is, he has no desire to examine it too closely, nor does he want to give Casimira the false impression that he might ever be the kind of father she wanted him to be.
A scowl tugs at his lips when she asks if they know each other. Eyes flicking to Tarian, he gives only a clipped nod in response before returning his attention to Casimira. Ashhal has never been a man of many words, so he would leave it to Tarian to explain if he wanted to. The other pegasus already knew too damned well just how social Ashhal is.
Though he is hardly an expert at reading others, even he can see Casimira is selecting her words carefully as she addresses him. The knowledge only causes his scowl to deepen, though not for the reason he would wish. Not that he would ever admit it was caused by a swiftly quelled flicker of shame rather than annoyance at her carefully worded question.
“No,” he replies after a heavy moment. Unless one counted flying over, though he hadn’t been paying much attention. But he doesn’t bother trying to expound. He’d never been very good at maintaining civility if he had to speak more than a few words, and she had already seen plenty of his uncivil side. While he would never be deemed pleasant, he could at least demonstrate his ability to keep himself in check.
