"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
His journey from the northern edge of Pangea is long. The run in with his family puts him at ease just the slightest. At least they now knew what happened to them, and what current events have taken place.
There is only a mild confidence that his father had not been aware of the visit. An equally small certainty that his twin flame is alive and well. The worried thoughts eat away at his core as he travels.
Go as far south as you can go and when you see fields of lavender you'll be there…
When he reaches the end of their world, there is nothing but a vast aquifer before him. He stands on the sandy beaches, black eyes cast across the open sea. A gull calls from above, willing his masked face to rise to the sky.
He snorts in frustration, bringing his head now to turn left, then pan right. There were no lavender fields anywhere in sight.
Drawing in a deep breath, he picks up a faint scent. “Mother?” He whispers to himself. There was a hint of lavender coming from the west and he wonders if she has followed him.
Lunging into a powerful gallop he follows the heavenly scent getting stronger with each stride. Soon he is crossing the river where it empties into the sea. The brackish waters douse his black fetlock flames; only when he reaches the other side do they reignite on the sea grass flat.
He stops then, his gaze trailing from the ocean shores, to the lavender tinted plains. The smile he held vanishes when he realizes it was not the scent of his mother that he followed here.
The dark flames flicker casually around his body. Gone is the vibrant orange glow of his red mane and tail. Instead they are illuminated a ghastly black, along with his eyes. Their dark glow scans the horizon, seeking any sort of life form.
Open to anyone : )
*Note: He is harboring disease from his father's blight in Pangea. It may transfer to anyone who touches him or anything he touches, unknowingly.
//Fire Mimicry-Healing\\
Fire Mimicry- Glowing, Small Flames, Fire Aura
**His fire mimicry trait colors are now black instead of orange**
Myrna suffocate the fire i started-------------------- right when it kindles
Leaving the siren to her swim, the palomino mare makes her way back through the rolling meadows of her home. She is heading toward the Mother Tree, and the waterfall that now glitters beside it, when something catches her eye.
A stranger, standing and looking over her home.
For a while, she only watches him. She takes in his bright coloration, and as she recognizes the pattern of his markings, Mynra realizes who this must be. Taking a breath to steady her nerves, the mare shakes out her long white mane and begins to move closer.
“Hello.” She says, when she is near enough to converse. She wears the same regal expression she’d had when dealing with his father - reserved but not so cool as to be impolite. “Welcome to the Gates.”
Though she is sure this must be Eviction, the son that the rotting Pangean had mentioned, she does wish to show her hand too early. Zain had said this boy was ‘good’, and though she knows better than to take such a creature at his word, she has seen how damaged good things become in bad situations.
“Can I help you find someone, or some place in particular?”
It was refreshing to see Eviction safe, for now. He’s still worried for Escence, but he knows that Zain wouldn’t hurt her since he’s got her brainwashed. He lovingly nuzzles Aurora before he takes off after Vic.
He not far behind him, but Vic has a steady lead ahead of him. He opens his wings and shakily takes off to the skies, ensuring he is not going too high as he is still getting used to flying.
After a little bit of distance, he lands letting himself rest as the night begins to fall upon the land. He travels overnight, each step being illuminated by his ethereal glow. He travels by foot for the most part, flying once the sun begins to rise the next morning.
The terrain changes drastically, from the rocky crevices of The Dale to the rolling meadows of The Gates. He smiles, remembering the time he spent with Aurora in the Meadow. The luscious green pastures merge into a purple meadow. Just up ahead he recognizes the flickering dark black, once orange glow that Vic wears. He stops, seeing a palomino mare approach Vic. He keeps a close eye and keeps his ears pricked on them, listening to their conversation to make sure that she isn’t hired by Zain.
Once he feels that the mare is no threat, Jack canters to the pair. “Vic!” He calls out, keeping his voice fairly low just so Vic can hear him in case Zain or any of his goons are around.
There was no doubt in his mind this is the Gates. It is a shock that it is as heavenly as his father said. Though the thought crawls across his mind as to why his father would send him to such a place. Was this supposed to be a punishment?
As he stands alone in the pastel fields, he begins to feel a suspicious nagging that solitude and separation were supposed to be his imprisonment here. Thankfully Jack was not far behind him, having offered to meet him here so he would not be alone in a strange place.
The journey had been long and soon, as he stands near the edge of the land waiting patiently, his eyes become heavy. A gentle wave of sleep pulses through him, his eyes begin to close, when suddenly a greeting beckons him back to attention.
His ears perk forwards when his dark eyes settle on the sunshine mare approaching. When she speaks of the Gates it confirms his assumption correct. His head dips in greeting as she inquires if he was searching for something. "Good day ma'am. I am Eviction. My father sent me..." his voice trails as he again wonders the true reasoning behind his banishment. "Do you know where I can find Myrna? She will be expecting me," he continues, just before he hears a call coming from behind him.
Vic!
The masked stallion draped in dark shadows turns to the familiar voice, a small spark of light returning to his expression. He greets the father-figure with a kind smile before turning to the mare, "This is Jack." The dark bay stallion towered above most, but his heart was as kind as anyone he has ever known.
Myrna suffocate the fire i started-------------------- right when it kindles
The young stallion is polite, quickly introducing himself and confirming Myrna’s assessment. He is the Pangean’s son, and his father had sent him here to…
His voice trails away, leaving Myrna curious to know if he is intentionally withholding information, or if perhaps he is as puzzled by the need for his presence here as she had been. How much had his father trusted him, she wonders? Enough that he might have been sent here as some type of spy?
That had been her first concern after reflecting on her agreement with Zain. She has not dismissed it entirely, and yet contemplation had led her to positivity, as it often does. She chooses to think that his father does not want him for his goodness, and hopes that perhaps in the right environment the boy might grow to become more capable of resistance. She is hopeful, too, that the Gates might be such a place.
“I am Myrna,” she replies, keeping her introduction short as she eyes the bay pegasus cantering toward them. He is a stranger to her, though he is clearly known to Eviction. That he does not smell of Pangea keeps her from becoming too wary, but enough so that she falls back on the cool facade she’s so carefully curated over the years.
“Jack,” she repeats, “I was just telling Eviction that I am Myrna, and that we have been looking forward to his arrival.” At this her blue-grey eyes return to those of the younger stallion before she continues: “The trade agreement between the Gates and Pangea that brought you here need not restrain you. While you reside with us, you are as free as any other resident to come and go as you please.”
This land, this ruler is nothing what I anticipated. Why would he send me here? What does he gain from this? His suspicions rise as to just what his father's plans were, but he had his own plans. His own scheme to get back at his father and show him what true power was. If he could ever master it. Truthfully he really didn't know what his power was, let alone how to wield it.
Time.
He had plenty of time now, and as Myrna enlightens them on the current state of his banishment, he thinks of ways to use this time. His father said he was to assist in anything requested of him and so he bows his head and replies, "Thank you Your Majesty. You have a lovely home," his ominous black eyes shift to the land before falling on the palomino once more, "If you need assistance with anything please let me know."
The blackened flames along his fetlocks flicker, the usual orange glow of his mane and tail are mere shadows. Something was stirring inside him, and it began to wear gently away the facade of health he maintained. It starts as no more than a wilting flower in the Queens presence. Barely noticeable unless you were attuned to those types of things. He himself is unaware of the change within him, even as his eyes begin to grow heavy, and a yawn crept up.
"Pardon me Miss, it seems the journey has taken its toll on me," he looks to Jack, "shall we go find a spot to rest?"
Again, he looks to the mare and bows his head before turning to head towards an outcrop of rocks by the seashore. Perhaps a nap amongst the tranquil sound of lapping waves would lull the harbored blight to rest once more.
@ Viszla
@Jack in the Box
*Note- the blight seeps out and wilts a small flower but it goes unnoticed by him
//Fire Mimicry-Healing\\
Fire Mimicry- Glowing, Small Flames, Fire Aura
**His fire mimicry trait colors are now black instead of orange**
Myrna suffocate the fire i started-------------------- right when it kindles
Myrna’s halcyon eyes remain on those of the young stallion as he surveys her home. She follows his line of sight until the soft tug of expiring greenery pulls it downward. The withered bluebell had been out of season, summoned by the chicanery of her crown, and had it not been she might not ever have noticed.
But she does, and her blue-grey eyes trace the wilted petals, then the flickering flames of the visitor. He yawns, seemingly unaware of the change, and Myrna does not bring it up. Instead, she offers the pair of stallions a polite smile.
“Rest well,” she tells them with a nod, and a gesture with her pale head in the direction most suitable, then turns to go as they depart.
Eviction
