"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
06-03-2015, 09:54 PM (This post was last modified: 06-03-2015, 09:59 PM by Lyris.)
She misses her mother.
It’s been almost two years now since Linnaea passed away, and Lyris still thinks of her mother almost daily. Linnaea had struggled so much with raising Lyris - she had been a frustrating child, prone to temper tantrums and disobeying her mother’s rules. Linnaea had done the best that she could with her difficult situation, and Lyris has come to appreciate all that her mother did for her when she was young.
She finds some comfort in knowing that her mother had at least been happy in the end. Linnaea’s relationship with Boe had come as a surprise to her. She’d been jealous at first (she’d never had to share her mother before, after all), but had quickly come to realize that she’d never seen her mother so happy as when she was with Boe. Of course, it had been that love that had killed her in the end. And Boe too.
Lyris had found them together - Linnaea lying in a pool of her own blood from the birth and Boe … well, she doesn’t want to think about what he’d done to himself. But the child … even though Linnaea had clearly given birth, Lyris hadn’t been able to find a sign of the foal anywhere. A predator wouldn’t have carried the whole body off, so maybe, just maybe, the child is alive. But where?
She stands on the edge of the meadow, eyes dark and brooding as she gazes out across the darkened territory. She hadn’t wanted to stay in the Jungle tonight, not with memories of her mother so prominent in her mind.
Sighing, she moves into a walk. There’s no chance of sleeping tonight. Her mind is just too full.
She skirts the edge of the meadow, not wanting to risk running into anyone she knows. She just wants to be alone right now. But, as often happens in Beqanna, she runs into someone before she even spots them. She peers through the dim light at the horse, and is just able to discern that it’s a blue roan stallion. Thankfully one she’s never met before.
Something flickers and she narrows her eyes, trying to see better. There’s something … dancing … about his face. Could it be … shadows? “Neat trick!” She plasters a grin on her face. “But I can do better!” Her words seem just as proud as ever, but they are half-hearted. Thoughts of her mother still weigh on her mind.
Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know.
And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
They are certainly pests when they wanted to be, but the shadow child could concede that they came in useful from time to time. Although he could have gone without that godawful fairyland experience. He’d thought he would remain in solitude for most of the evening but his assumptions were broken when a quiet rustling could be heard close to his resting place.
Mismatched eyes easily pierce the darkness to see a spotted mare approaching him. He shifts his weight and the tendrils part with one last affectionate touch to his cheek. They were annoying most times, but only because they clambered for his attention constantly. Few could truly detect them and most others cringed away in fear and uncertainty. The shadow child has had to learn to willingly embrace them in his life.
From the tattoos clearly visible upon her skin, he vaguely wondered if she was an Amazon. He tended to enjoy the company of Amazons; they tended to be more strong-willed and intriguing as compared to others. He remembers Sable and their short time together with fondness. And of course his own daughter had remained in the jungle. As she draws closer, he can pick up the rich and exotic scent of the jungle permeating the air and he is almost certain she is a jungle-woman.
How thrilling.
She seems to have caught a glance of the pests; otherwise, he didn’t really know what he did to already have her narrowing her eyes at him. He had been over here just minding his own business really. But her first words confirm his suspicion and he offers her a politely confused expression. “Standing really isn’t such a difficult task. But perhaps I do not take the sport as seriously I should.”
The shadow child really has gone too long without the company of others.
Such a contrary little thing he could be at times.
“Who might you be, champion of the weight-bearers?”
He manages to keep his stoically polite expression, with the exception of a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, despite his border-line sarcastic words. Perhaps she would take his words offensively, but the shadow child was merely thrusting his odd mood upon an unwilling victim. One of those moods where all he would like to do is mince some words, but it was all in good fun of course.
Her eyes are not as good as his in the darkness, so she misses his feigned expression of confusing. But she doesn’t miss his words and a loud guffaw escapes her lips. “Clearly you don’t! You’re putting too much weight on your feet!” Ever the show off, she gathers the winds about her, drawing in several from different angles. She’s become well practiced at this trick over the years, and after only a few minutes, her feet rise from the ground. She hangs in mid-air for a moment, buffeted occasionally by an unruly breeze, then lets herself drop back down to the ground with a thud. Who doesn’t like a little bit of shock and awe?
She takes a step towards him then, peering through the darkness. What had those things dancing about his face been?
Apparently though he’s still going to play coy. She snorts quietly at him and grins. “I’m Lyris. And you?” Her nose tests the air trying to pick up any hint of a kingdom on him, but she cannot find any. He does though, have an odd mix of scents. Perhaps he is a wanderer of some sort?
“So what brings a second-place stand-er to the meadow in the middle of the night? Practicing your skills?” It’s not a terribly good joke - she’s a little off her game. But there’s at least one thing running into this stallion has been good for. All thoughts and memories of her mother have, for the moment, fled her mind. They will no doubt return later, but for the moment, the distraction is welcome.
Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you
know. And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
His forcefully blank expression eases into a delighted expression as the stranger simply picks up on his mischievousness. It was always nice when others caught onto your joking manner. A swift and sudden wind disturbs his dark mane as she effortlessly demonstrates levitation. With the sudden intensity of the wind and the occasional wavering in the air, Michaelis suspects there is more to her ability than actual levitation.
“Impressive. But I’d like to think that I am an epitome of balance on the solid ground.”
She steps closer with her narrow-eyed scrutiny and he suspects that she wished to investigate the shadowy pests. But they had fallen into the background somewhere, content to lazily ride the breezes she had conjured up. For once, he was given a little bit of reprieve from their smothering.
“Pleased to meet you, Lyris. I’m Michaelis.”
She seems awful curious of his doings and Michaelis always enjoys appearing as a bit of a mystery. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t get to converse with as many people as he would like now that he’s had to make the change to a completely nocturnal lifestyle. He also remained outside the kingdoms and so his visitations became even more limited. Maybe it was time for him to settle down somewhere once more.
“Alas, my skills appear abysmal so practice makes perfect, correct? But really the night has become my day.”
His blank expression dissolves into a smile, and she grins widely. There’s the sense of humour she’s been digging around for! “Ah but see, that’s where you’re going wrong! You’re relying on the ground entirely too much!” She laughs and winks. “Why stand on the ground when you can stand in the air?” She doesn’t levitate herself again though, not yet. Why pull out all the tricks right at the start?
“The pleasure’s all mine, I’m sure, Michaelis.” Now that she can get a good look at him, he’s a bit of an odd duck, with one brown eye, and one bright yellow eye. Not bad looking either, really. Not that she knows much at all about that sort of thing.
“Yes indeed, better get started then!” She can’t help but cock her head though at his second statement - such an odd thing to say. “What …?” But then he follows it up, and she groans. A vampire? Oh lord. “Oh my! Should I be concerned? Are you going to suck my blood?” His tone makes her think that he’s at least not being serious. But vampires? Really? He could have picked a better one - there are tons to choose from! Ah whatever, she’ll just roll with it. “Can you turn into a bat or something? Or is that just part of the myth?”
