"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
She has been wandering, trying to collect memories of a life that seems to have been a million years ago. Searching to find a place that triggers something familiar. She knows there is something to who she is. The blank slate she woke to was once full of memories that she just can't dig out of the heavy fog in her mind. Her dreams have been wrought with flashes of blood and ear-piercing shrieks. Memories of a war that she knows must have existed. Fuzzy visions of her mother, green like her, but harsher and cold. She knows she has siblings. Or had siblings? A pink sister, a brother with tattered wings, and several siblings in varying shades of green. Likely all long gone, as home seemingly was.
Dead land and the stench of death accompany the shrieks and blood of a war rattled land that she must have once called home. There isn't a feeling of fear that comes with these flashes of memories and dreams, though. Her mother, she is certain, thrived in the conditions. A death pit. Sacrifices. Strange and wicked ideas. Things that should make her uneasy, sick, fearful - she feels no such thing in her memories. Did she enjoy those things as a child?
She has wandered through the meadow, found a river that spread to the ocean, and now has found her way to the ruins, green legs carrying her over the terrain carefully. The land feels haunted. She could swear she can hear whispers of those gone past. She stops, swishing her black tail across her green haunches as she scans the area. She can smell death, feel it slicking over her skin on the breeze, but this isn't home. Or at least it doesn't call to her like she thinks home should. The ruins scattered across the plain don't feel familiar or look familiar.
Razaranje knows this is the world she was born into, but it is also not. She closes her dark eyes and takes a deep inhale, allowing the strange scent to fill her lungs in hopes another memory might come out of the depths and into the light of her mind. As she exhales, though, the land is no more familiar than it was before. On top of the smell of death and pain oozing from the earth she picks up on the scent of another stranger. She turns to look, curious who else may be wandering this strangely haunting ground.
Beqanna has changed in so many ways throughout Anubias’ lifetime, but he is grateful that he can still visit the places he remembers in his dreams. He can wander the darkness of the eclipse and fear none of the monsters, knowing that the sun will shine again. He can craft what he believes Taiga and Tephra and the other missing lands were like, the trees sparkling in his dreams and always towering so so so high.
But he has learned how dangerous it is to favour his dreams. Rather suddenly, he wakes up and realizes how lonely he is. How long it has been since he has made a friend. He thinks of the quiet angel that wanted to escape reality and the starlight girl who he thought had been a dream.
Although he hopes they are still around and wishes to run into them again, thinking they could tether each other in the new world, he doesn’t let himself slip back into a dream. There, any friends would be ghosts — he could craft whoever he wished, have them think and say whatever he wanted, and Anubias doesn’t want friends like that.
Far, far better to have their own minds.
The Ruins have long been a source of fascination for him because it feels very dreamlike here. Not his type of dream but as if he is walking in someone else’s dreams and seeing what marvellous things they create. There are no ghosts here for him. Just possibility.
His companion is sprawled in her usual spot - head between his ears, body draped on his neck. Sometimes her long tail moves and tickles his frost-marked skin, causing him to laugh. They are both chuckling when he sees someone nearby and his heart just thrills at the possibility of it. Even if she doesn’t turn out to be a friend, it is so wonderful to be standing on the beginning of something that he has no idea how it will play out.
And he is mostly certain she is not a dream.
“Hello!” He calls out as he approaches, grinning brightly when she turns to look. “It’s nice to see someone else out here, for a moment I thought only stones lived here.”
As the stranger approached she eyed him curiously. He was a shining green and white with markings that looked like his skin had been frosted over and never thawed. Those things didn't strike her as odd, but the creature laying atop his head was definitely not something she had seen before. His bright words are a stark contrast against the dead land and she gave him a half grin in response. She wasn't going to find what she was looking for here, but company wouldn't be a bad trade off.
"It doesn't seem like anything actually lives here." she replied, looking down at the rough earth and whacking a front hoof on one of the stones, "not even these." She looked back up at the stallion and tilted her bright head slightly, sending her black and green forelock flipping to the side. "Maybe some ghosts." Despite knowing that ghosts should be scary, she didn't think she would find one scary if she ever met one. Maybe she had met one in her past life? Who knows. Not Razaranje.
"Do you live here? Are you a ghost?" She asked, a little curious, a little bit joking. Her dark eyes again drifted to the critter lounging atop his head and she gave another half-smile. "Transportation service for small creatures living the high life?" Razaranje laughed and returned her gaze back to the new stranger instead of his little passenger. Beqanna was certainly a curious place full of surprises around every corner. Even if her memories were fuzzy and unsure, she was certain about that. You could run into anything, anyone, around any corner.
"I'm Razaranje. And I don't think that I'm a ghost. Can't make any guarantees though." She gave a slight roll of her shoulders, something like a shrug as her black and green tail swished idly against her green legs. "I don't know a whole lot, but I do know I don't live here." Well, she isn't 100% sure about that either.
The idea of ghosts living here didn't bother Anubias — they had to live somewhere, and it seemed like an appropriate place for them to gather. And maybe they find peace here together. It's easy for him to conjure sweet stories, ones with kindness and love for all those involved. Even when telling stories about ghosts.
Anubias' pale green eyes light up with a smile as the stranger returns his questions and he laughs too at the comment about being a transportation service. "Not a ghost but you're definitely right about being transportation for small creatures." The red panda in question stands, stretches her back, and clamours up a little so she is sitting at attention, tilting her head curiously at Razaranje with her vibrant green body and nice laugh.
It's been a while since they've met someone new, and they're both enjoying this stroke of luck.
"This is my companion, Fisher, and I'm Anubias. We don't live here either but I like to visit." He glances around at the unique stones, remembering when he had first discovered them - how amazing it had been to find something new.
But he can admire the scenery any time. His easy smile and sparking curiosity return back to the bright green Razaranje as he circles back to one of her comments. "How come you're not sure you're a ghost?"
She smiled at the little red panda as it stretched and tilted it's fluffy head at her. It was an adorable little thing, something unlike Razaranje had ever seen before. Fluffy and warm looking with curious eyes. "Well you seem like good company, Fisher and Anubias." A warmth spread over her as she smiled to the little creature and then back to the green stranger. She had spent so long wandering alone, lost and confused with frustration growing heavier. This company, so friendly, immediately felt familiar and comforting, and it was a wonderful change of pace for the bright green mare. "You visit here often? What is this place, exactly?" The wind whispered over the ruins, stirring dust up in places as if invisible hands were swiping across the deserted land.
Perhaps the wind was actually ghosts. Stirring the dust and dragging silent fingers through her mane and tail as they waved over her body. If she was a ghost, it wouldn't surprise her. She felt almost as if she was stuck in purgatory. Wandering aimlessly, looking for home or anything familiar. Maybe she had died and was now stuck somewhere on a different plane, unable to return home and unable to move on.
"I woke up and can't remember a thing. I've been looking for home, but I can't seem to find it." She tilted her head slightly, "Maybe I did die, and I'm somewhere in between the before and after as a ghost." A laugh burst from her again. Would it be so bad if this was death? Was death just starting over somewhere new? "How are you sure that you're not a ghost?"
Fisher is pleased with the compliment, enough that she relaxes once again. She doesn't shuffle back but just sploots where she is, her head resting a little further down Anubias' face than it had been before, enough that he can see the familiar orange-red fur in the edges of his line of sight. He imagines she's blinking slowly, half comfortable enough to want to return to her nap and half jolting with curiosity about Razaranje.
He has a permanent cowlick in his mane and forelock from her doing this very thing, though he's not vain enough to care and it provides him with a good chuckle whenever he catches his reflection in water.
When asked about whether they visit here often, he nods carefully (so his companion doesn't slide further down). "Yes, we wander a lot. I'm not entirely sure, though. It just… sort of showed up after a bunch of earthquakes and I think a tornado? Beqanna changed a lot, there's even a land in the clouds now but we haven't visited there except in dreams."
There aren't many times when Anubias wishes he had wings or different abilities, but he would love to see Stratos with his real eyes one day.
Concern tugs a frown as Razaranje explains that she didn't have any memories and had been searching for a home. He doesn't join in her laugh because the worry is stronger at least until she asks him how he's sure he's not a ghost.
That gets a laugh, returning the bright easy smile to his pale green eyes. "Well fair enough. I don't remember dying, but I suppose it could have happened in my sleep and this is just a dream or some kind of afterlife." He doesn't find the idea troubling. If this was death, it was remarkably like his life and that was fine with him. "At least the company is pleasant, though."
Even though Razaranje had just said she couldn't remember a thing, he can't help but ask "Do you remember anything about your home?" because he wants to help her find what she has lost and maybe spending his lifetime wandering will finally come in use for something other than expanding on his own dreams.
"Earthquakes and a tornado?!" She said with wide eyes and a stunned tone. She couldn't imagine the chaos such major events would have caused. And then he mentions a land in the clouds, keeping her stunned and at the edge of her metaphorical seat. "I cannot imagine a land made of clouds. Have you been there?" Razaranje hadn't seen wings or any hint that the stallion may have wings, but that meant nothing in Beqanna - just about anything was possible here, she was certain of it. "Someday I will have to find a way to see that, I bet it's amazing."
She wasn't sure how she would ever get passage to the land in the sky. Wingless, flightless, homeless. Perhaps she would set aside her search for home and switch it up to a search for a magician. Surely one of them could get her there, and maybe her new friend as well.
Razaranje shifted her weight a bit when she noticed concern flicker over Anubias's features, but ease returned to her as a laugh and a smile again warmed the air between them. She smiled at his remark about pleasant company and nodded, her black and green mane swishing against her thin neck. "What more could you ask for than good company and an interesting world to explore." She sighed and admired the land around them, the dust swirling with the whispers of the past as he asked if she could remember anything about home.
The dark emptiness of her memories seemed as dusty and abandoned as the land around them and she shrugged. "I feel like it was called the Valley, or something like that. It seems like it was dark and I get these weird flashes of war or something, but I just can't remember." She sighed again, "I don't think it probably even matters anymore, I'm sure nobody is left that would remember me." She scuffed her hoof against the barren, rocky earth a couple of times before raising her head again and stating "I suppose I'll just have to make a new home." with a wavering half smile.
Razaranje is appropriately shocked by the rather dramatic things Beqanna had gone through as it chased, but he's glad he also mentioned Stratos — a much happier, much dreamier conversation for them to have. "Only from the ground — or in dreams, but I'm not sure how accurate my imagination is compared to the real thing. Not sure there are large, singing hummingbirds there in reality who weigh everyone's soul to see if they are light enough to stand on the clouds." No, definitely not a dream he had ever experienced. His smile is warm and full of the wishes in his heart to see things he couldn't yet understand. "To be able to see it with my waking eyes would be a wonderful thing."
Perhaps one day this emerald pair of new friends would find a way to see it.
But now he's happy to be standing here, speaking with her.
He listens intently as she attempts to share what she remembers about her home. The Valley was not a name that rang any bells for this stallion, though he didn't doubt there was a great number of things he didn't know about Beqanna. The lands had shifted and changed once, it seemed reasonable that they might again.
Anubias watches Razaranje try to snuff out her hope, lessen her own importance, and both he and Fisher tilt their heads in unison. From an outside point of view, he thought it mattered very much — even just for some closure, it would be good to have some confirmation that her memories were real.
When she states she's sure no one is left that would remember her "I think you'd be surprised. There's a lot of history walking around." He says this with an encouraging smile but gently. He may not like that she was choosing to keep her hopes low but he could understand the instinct.
"Maybe it is in one of the parts obscured by the fog?" Says Anubias because his writer just remembered that not all of the lands have been rediscovered yet. Wink.
The warm and friendly conversation she has been having has helped her forget how badly she wanted to find home, or someone close to home. The desperation she had felt welling in her chest had been slowly fizzling out as they had talked. His chipper demeanor and the peculiar friend atop his head had been chipping away at the feeling in a welcome fashion. Large, singing hummingbirds to weigh souls. She chuckled at the thought. "Maybe," She said slowly, "your imagination isn't big enough?" She glanced to the sky to try and spot clouds, wondering if there were horses and a variety of mythical creatures living on them. As if green horses with magical powers and creature companions aren't mythical. "In this crazy world I am sure someday you'll find a way to make it there, but if you do, you need to take me with! I think I need to see it, too." She said with a sheepish smile.
Her attention shifted from the sky back to Anubias and Fisher. Something about the content creature atop his green head made her feel a sense of warmth and comfort. She pondered for a moment where you would find a companion like Fisher. Surely it would be nice to always have company everywhere you went, although she did wonder if his neck ached from holding the little critter up there.
"This place seems like it must hold a lot of history." She stated with a small shoulder roll. The ruins were very curious to Razaranje. "Doesn't seem like it was good history, but who am I to judge." She shifted her weight as she quietly scanned the area around them. It was still a bit eerie despite the warm company. Her eyes wandered over ruin after ruin, looking lazily for a hint at what might have once been. Then Anubias mentioned a fog that is obscuring part of Beqanna and her attention again snapped back to him, eyes ablaze with curiosity.
"There's places hidden by fog?" She said perhaps too excitedly. She had been wandering quite a bit and had yet to come upon any walls of fog. Land hidden behind fog did seem a bit ominous to her, but she didn't have much better to do with her time than try and figure out what that could be. Well, that, and figuring out how to get to a land in the clouds without wings.
