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aranea the silent was much different than aranea the diplomat. with words to guide her she was strong and confident and fierce. in silence, unable to voice her thoughts and opinions, she was much more withdrawn. there lingered sparks of the fire that burned within but it was not the fierce flame that it existed to be.
aranea was a shadow of her true self and, frankly, she was okay with that. it was nice to step back and let others take charge for once, for a time, though she knew it would not be long lived. things would change again - they always did - and she would again seek to step up and grasp the greatness she had once claimed.
this was merely a vacation.
his words had formed a kinship between them that she could not fully understand yet. one that surely he did not understand. it was a bond that had begun many years ago and had heightened by a simple act of trust. aranea had given herself over to the leader of this fiery home and granted him an unbridled trust - he would be her voice. the offer of it, to stay near and try to speak for her, had touched the shadowy mare in a way she had not imagined. the sincerity of it was overwhelming and she found herself grateful for silence - she would have been stunned in to it regardless.
so she had followed him. there was no other choice and even if there was she would not have sought one.
aranea was, in fact, happy.
strange - how long had it been? when had she last known true happiness? she of ice and fire had a hard time remembered, and wondered if it had truly been when she had reigned and known the friendship of ryann. that long? or perhaps when she last spoke with her father, had it been then?
yes, she imagined that her last visit with covet had been her last brush with happiness. until now.
when they reached their new home she snorted in a soft approval and instinctively reached, again, for his shoulder. would he tell her what he knew?
ARANEA
(immortal, mute, infrared vision)from dust, she returned
the dream, an enigma... silent
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@[Eight]
 no matter what they say, I am still the king
How fierce could one be when there is silence to choke them? What must it be like to be two different people – for you weren’t always like this, were you? Once, you could speak. Your voice flowed freely, you had a fight inside of you like a caged bird clamoring to be free. But now? How can you show anyone how much you’d like to chip open the door and fly away – when there is nothing but dust in your throat?
And now? Now you are demure, quiet (almost in an unsettling way). How much must you hear? How much do you drink in, while others are harping words and setting diplomatic ties and bantering about the day to day averages? Yes, you may live in the shadow of your true self - but perhaps now you are simply changing. You have wrapped your cocoon of silence around you, tightly wound so that even you may not break free. But when you do? How much of you will remain changed once your shackles of silence are gone?
It is very unlike Eight to take on responsibility – to form trust or ties or bonds. He was merely a man that fended for himself – he enjoyed the simple life of doing what he pleased, while protecting the Valley as he must. But now? Once he had become king again, it was as if his whole world had changed. He had children to care for, citizens to watch over for (and actually get to know this time around). It seemed, that among the eons of years that Eight had lived – he had finally acquiesced to something more meaningful. And so he had reached out to you – rather than shrugging off his duties once Beqanna had changed, instead he sought out those who needed him – he sought out a better place to live.
You, Aranea, were one of the few who needed him. Well, I suppose need is a bit of a stretch. There’s no falsity in saying you would have been just fine on your own – you always have. But as mentioned, there was that pull between you and Eight (from however long, whatever reason why) – and it was not of duty, but of instinct that he had sought you out and declared to stand by your side.
As you completed their last leg, finally cresting the border to their new home, Eight again feels your touch (it’s strange, how quickly you can get used to something that has been so long gone from your life). You seemed happy enough, from what Eight could read. You were relaxed, almost a lilting smile on your face, and your snort was gentled and demure – not one of anger or displeasure.
“ This, is Tephra. A land of volcano and spring. It is not very much like the Valley, but for now – it is home.” He continued to walk, a slow cavort through the new home. “Offspring, Malis, Magnus, and I will be a council for now. There will be a meeting shortly to discuss how this land will actually operate.” He looked to her briefly, again that twinge of guilt (as if somehow his loss of magic and thusly her voice, was his own doing. “Offspring is good. He fought along side me some time ago. Magnus and Malis I have sadly little knowledge about – save for she is of the Chamber and he of the Gates.”
It was strange for Eight, all this talking. He was a man of few words. And he had no doubt that you and he would have done just fine in their own type of silence. But he knew that you had few other acquaintances to question of all this, and even fewer who would understand even remotely what you may be asking.
“I have heard rumor that another magician – one who has maintained his magic – has followed Offspring here. Would you like to find him?” And there – finally, your chance for a little bit of freedom once again.
∞ and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in
@[Aranea]
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it truly was as if he could read her mind.
aranea recognized that much of this was body language mixed with the simple noises that she could make. still, she felt that it was more than that. it seemed some thread had woven between them and had become an almost tangible thing - the shadowed mare felt it, but did he?
he spoke and she listened as she walked in silence beside him. their steps carried them across the greenery and towards the spring. when faced with fresh water she hesitated for a moment but determined that beqanna would not wish them dead and so stepped closer to drink. in his company she was unguarded and at ease and lowered her head to drink deeply from the cool water.
refreshed she looked up at him, surprised by the words that came next. surprised not only because of the fact of lingering magic, but because of how it made her feel. her instinct was to resist and she found herself shaking her head before she had even mulled over the words.
mid action she realized how ridiculous that must seem, that she may deny what freedom he offered. not only would it be borderline insane to refuse but to do so would also leave eight feeling that he must help - the last thing she wanted to do was chain him to her unwillingly. it was impossible to explain that she was rather enjoying her little holiday from duty. (hadn't her years away been enough? why did she seek to delay it further?)
aranea sought to correct herself with a quick nod and aimed to cover up her apparent foolishness with a questioning tip of her head. which way?
ARANEA
(immortal, mute, infrared vision)from dust, she returned
the dream, an enigma... silent
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@[Eight]
It is a difficut thing knowing that you could once do something and no longer can. Once, not long ago - Eight could read your mind. He could filter through your thoughts like an author rifling through rough drafts. He did not need to concentrate on the way you knit your brow, or the flick of your ears, or the tensing of your shoulders. Once, he could read your thoughts as simply as if words were flowing from your mouth. There was no question, no deciphering, no interpreting - it was simply your mind and he , two souls intertwined.
Now, well now it was different. It was drinking in the way your muscles rippled when you were tense, the way your ear half cocked in question, the sinew of your neck as you moved in inflection. No, it was not easy - but there was an easiness to it. There was a familiarity between you and the dark stallion, a rippling feeling that flung your thoughts out to him.
There is a simplicity now that a home as been found, Yes, you are almost like explorers in a strange land - but isn’t all of Beqanna? Every step taken in Tephra is one that is undiscovered, around each corner there is something that could be laying in wait. Somehow, you trust him - although his power is drained. Should Beqanna wish ill upon you, there would be nothing Eight could do. The water could cast a fire upon your throat, you silent screams rippling throughout the land, and the magician would no longer be able to coat your pain with ease Such a fickle, fickle thing.
He waited stoically, eyes casting over the new land, as you quenched your thirst after the journey. He still was not used to the familiarities of life - the need to eat, the parched feeling of a desert throat - magic had quenched it all before. You respond with a shake of your head, and he awaits more - a twinge of an ear, a step forwards or back - anything to tell him something more.
And then, it comes - perhaps you had recanted your original thought, the no, no, no that riddled the simplicity of your silence. Perhaps you had more to say than body movements could convey. Eight could not say - without the veil of magic, he was as powerless as any.
“ His name is Sahm.” he speaks quietly - unsure of your feelings of breaking free of your chain of silence. “Let’s go. I’m sure he’ll know we’re looking for him.” He jerks his head deeper towards the heart of Tephra, knowing that the magician lies in wait somewhere.
@[Sahm] - wanna jump in on this? 
09-10-2016, 03:52 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-10-2016, 03:57 PM by Aranea.)
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he didn't seem to note her hesitation - or if he did he paid it no mind. it would be easier, she had to admit, keeping company if she had words to give him. would the magician be able to help? could he give tephra a blanket that would allow aranea to share what she had to say?
the shadowy mare could not answer the questions, though found that they incited some anxiety. it fluttered within and beat it's wings against her chest - for the most part she ignored it. there was nothing more to do; she could not speak and she was not the type to flee. so, instead, she followed her winged protector in the same silence as ever and wondered if their bond would change when she could speak again.
the words they had exchanged in the past had been many - the words of the present had been few. aranea was eager for the conversations that they would be able to have and yet feared, too, that words would lessen the bond that had sprouted so unexpectedly between them.
her concerns kept her mind busy as they sought the magician, though from time to time her shoulder or nose would seek to brush against her companion as if to reassure herself that he was still there. this neediness would fade undoubtedly - surely they would both be glad for it.
sahm. she repeated the name in her head and perhaps sought to project it, as if to encourage the magician to appear. funny, that it was yet another that she had met in beqanna. for such a large world it seemed surprisingly small. aranea remembered well the two stallions she had met and realized it must have been before he regained his trait - or had he never lost it? was he an exception to the rule?
she found herself eager to find him, now. the sooner she could escape (or express?) her doubts the better, now that the path was set.
ARANEA
(immortal, mute, infrared vision)from dust, she returned
the dream, an enigma... silent
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@[Eight] @[Sahm]
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