There was a birch tree in the field; Nymph

[Siberian]

It had been a while since he had last seen his master; long enough of a time that he decided to set out from the Chamber and find out where he had gotten to.  He had not been present at the herdland that he kept, attached to the piney kingdom.  Nor had Siberian heard anything of him in the Forest or the Meadow.  There was talk, however, frightened talk, of a huge monster that had emerged and gone on an equine-killing spree within the Meadow.  The Budyonny's next step had been to venture to the lake that the beast had emerged from.  And there, Siberian comes across decayed and scattered pieces of what he can only assume is the palomino sabino who had controlled his life for so long, his own private monarch.  He gazes down at the bloody remnants with dark eyes and a silent tongue, completely at a loss for what to say or do now.  The last time he had seen Zayn was in the days after the war, when he had actually praised the bear-shifter for his performance in the battle.  

To see the fearsome personality reduced to carrion was something that he he never expected to have happen.  After a short observation period, he simply turns away from the lake, going back the way he had come.  When he arrives back at the Chamber, the black stallion seeks out the horse that he knew best here, the only one he could consider to be a friend.  The blood bay with the troubled love life is not hard to find, since he held a high rank in the Diplomat caste and was thus required to be close at hand for kingdom duties.  A diplomat, yes.  Another reason to seek him out; the necromancer was good with words and could help him through his turmoil.  Siberian approaches his friend, whickering in greeting, though his eyes remain troubled and confused.  He comes right to the point, wanting to get this dire news shared as quickly as possible, though his voice is as plaintive as his expression.   "I found him, Nymph.  Zayn is dead.  " He briefly drops his gaze before lifting it back up to settle forlornly upon the other stallion again.  "My master is dead.  "

Siberian

The sexy grizzly boy of Beqanna

[Nymphetamine]

The snow shifted under the light foot of the resident necromancer as he moved through the main clearing. Snow was his least favorite thing, but the bay's coat seemed to have granted him some form of reconciliation in the form of extra fluffy insulation. The trees around him were laden with snow and all it would take was a solid bump against their trunks to dislodge the frozen moisture from their lofted seats. Most of the vegetation was dead, as it was not an "ever," most foliage was not an evergreen nor an ever-burning magic tree. He was ready for winter to be over; He wanted the green back, Chamber was just nicer when it was green. The leading diplomat found it easier to hide from those who sought him out when it was a green season.

The thing with power was that it came with an audience, and an audience meant work, and Nymphetamine sometimes didn't want to help settle the silly debacles that some of the Chamber's residents found themselves in. Some were legitimate and others were petty, but they all required him to do work. Most of the time he loved to have a job, but like any other who was mostly required to be at the beckoning of others, he had moments he needed a break. He found it easy to take the break he needed while not abandoning his duties all together through the invisibility he was gifted. In the green months, he hid easier, no hoof prints in the snow, no condensed breath as the warm air was pushed from his lungs. Winter gave him away too easily.

This was on of those days, the necromancer had just settled multiple little circumstances (that the residents really should have been able to handle themselves) and he decided he had enough. The bay fashioned himself invisible and moved to the tree line where his breath was less obvious and his hoof falls less apparent. So when the snow gave way to his hooves, it was just a few ravens that Straia had left behind to report his break( to a Queen that no longer had the power to make him care). However, the snap of a branch nearby, and the lingering smell of fish and water meant the bear had returned to Chamber and was near.

The lad appeared in the clearing, that held a few others waiting for Nymphetamine's assistance, and while the bay would usually try and prank his close friend, one glance at the black stallion's expression told him this was not the time. Nymph took a step into the clearing and allowed the shield that was his invisibility to drop around him. As he did so the others in the clearing swiveled their attention to him and a few already called to him their issues. With ears pinned, he ordered them away, his attention was needed on a more serious matter, and to not return until the morning. Once the last bystander had left, the conjurer closed the distance between him and the bear-horse. His friend needed no prompting, his words fell with a complex mix of emotion seeded within his eyes. "My master is dead." The final phrase confused the bay stallion, though he knew that would have to wait a moment.

A puff of warm breath escaped his darkened tipped nostrils as he thought of the right words. They were simple and unemotional. A solid fixture of support if Siberian needed it. "I had heard rumors, he had done right by me, I am sorry to see him go as well...I didn't know you two were so close." His brows furrowed and his head tilted as he pondered further the master comment. "Sib, are you not your own master? I do not understand this." He knew that his friend was troubled by the death of the pale fighter from the war, but something did not add up. He did not mean to seem uninterested, or unsympathetic, he just needed to understand why the death had shaken the black lad so deeply.

Nymphetamine

cold was my soul, untold was the pain I faced when you left me: a rose in the rain

ooc: it has been a little bit since I wrote nymph words, i'll get back into the swing.

[Siberian]

Now, it is Siberian who tilts his head in confusion, upon hearing the necromancer's words.  He had assumed for years that everyone in the Chamber had known of what Zayn had done to him; had even resented them for a long time due to the belief that they knew and approved.  Apparently, the cremello had kept his plans completely to himself.  Thinking this over, the Budyonny can only assume that the other Chamberlings had believed their relationship to be mentor-student, or even an odd sort of adoption.  Very well.  The black horse takes a deep breath, gathering his tormented thoughts before he begins laying it all down before his friend.  Were they humans, he'd have advised that they both sit down, but he swiftly discards this idea due both to lack of equine-sized chairs and the snow that lay so coldly upon the ground around them.  "I did not come to the Chamber as a recruit, or even as an adopted child.  Zayn came across me in the Playground as a weanling.  He must have seen me shift into my bear-form in the stream there, and decided to put my talents to his own use.  "  His eyes drift back up from the snow to meet Nymph's gaze.  

"He kidnapped me from there, naive child that I was, by telling me that Straia was a shifter herself, and would like to meet another of our kind.  Once he had me here in his home, he set to work training me.  He would bring me progressively larger animals to fight and kill, in order to make me into a weapon that he could unleash.  I...I was so fearful of those ravens, you see.  He told me that if I ever tried to escape, they were watching and would report it, that I would be caught and would receive harsh punishment.  And I believed him.  I knew no one else here, was kept isolated.  What Zayn told me, was my truth.  You may have seen something of it that day of the war.  He came to collect me at the tree, ordered me away with him to fight in the main battle.  And I followed, like the good servant that I was.  He praised me after the war, you know.  It was the first, and turned out to be the last, time that he ever did so.  And, Gods help me, it was the greatest reward I'd ever received, just to be told by him that I had done well.  Now that he is gone, I can't help but feel adrift.  Is the Chamber itself my master now, should I think of it that way?  Or should I try and think of *myself* as a master?  "  His dark eyes bore into Nymph's now, the expression in them one of a kind of desperation. 

 

Siberian

The sexy grizzly boy of Beqanna

[Nymphetamine]

The two stood in the clearing surrounded by the pines and underbrush that made up chamber's flora, While the occasional Straia raven still lingered the trees were much better at keeping secrets as they once were. So as he heard nor smelled no others he trusted that their private conversation had stayed so. There were no petty whiners waiting to intrude and for that Nymphetamine was grateful. Nymphetamine didn't know his gently worded question would send Sib into such a reverie. He hadn't meant to dredge up so many memories. But if there was one thing he learned through his training was that listening is more powerful than speaking at times. So he listened as his unlikely comrade told his story. All the little cracks that didn't exactly make sense about the fluffy bear slowly clicked into place and the day they met made so much more sense.

Siberian's eyes pierced Nymph's own steel eyes as he looked for direction, in a seemingly new world. Nymphetamine was humbled to be trusted with this knowledge and trust. The wrong person would use the knowledge to their advantage, or try to anyway. But the diplomat knew that Siberian was more his own man than he night have realized. "You've lived an eventful life so far my friend. Are you not stronger for it, even though it might not have been ideal, I think you found yourself despite his attempted manipulations." The last part of his question about who his master was was a deeper question, one nymphetamine couldn't exactly tell him, Sib would have to decide that for himself. " But as for who is you master, Chamber or yourself.... You will have to discover that on your own. I can not tell you what to decide to be... a loyal or enslaved citizen to Chamber. There is a difference, no?" He paused to watch how the thought sank into his dear friend before he continued. "I was indebted to Killdare for forgiving my treason at the start of his kingship, but that changed to a loyalty and I am a better member of Chamber for it. It's up to you to decide who your next master will be- yourself or Chamber."

The bay stallion was unsure what else to say so he fell silent for a moment, allowed the words to sink in. After a while longer he felt the need to lighten the mood for Sib, but he didn't know what to say so He just waited until the bear spoke or changed the subject. What was some silence between friends? Just a little awkward....just a little especially in light of a heaft conversation.

Nymphetamine

cold was my soul, untold was the pain I faced when you left me: a rose in the rain