"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
02-15-2017, 09:05 PM (This post was last modified: 02-20-2017, 09:07 PM by Warrick.)
In his mind, Warrick is on the mountain. There, the night sky had opened up above him like a hungry mouth while thousands of stars twinkled above him. His sister and mother (drawn to their stars like they’ve always been) stared into the sky with hungry and wanderlust-filled gazes. His eyes followed their gaze and searched the gaping chasm with them, hoping to feel the same unexplainable attraction that was so obvious in his twin sister and mother. He longed to understand what it was they saw in the blue-black painted sky and stared all the more. Suddenly, he felt his eyes becoming weary from the intense focus and with a toss of his head, blinked away the pain. The moment his eyes opened, his sister and mother were nowhere to be seen. It was there, in that moment, standing alone on what now seemed like a cold and incredibly dark mountain, where Warrick realized he would never understand what the stars were telling his family. Perhaps the stars’ secrets were not meant for him.
Warrick had found himself slowly moving his way down the mountain like so many of those in Beqanna already had. His journey was hesitant at first. Every so often the stallion would stop and stare questioningly at the sky, a look of confusion finding his solemn face. Despite his mother and sister’s disappearance and his lack of being able to accompany them, it did not change what Warrick needed to do, which was to survive. With a huff, the stallion’s dark eyes focused on the trail before him and he continued on his way.
At a later moment in time, Warrick would probably find it fitting that he came across Tephra just as the sun was setting. He came to a stop at its borders, a soft snort leaving his nostrils. He was tired. He missed his sister. He was never one to be alone, but he had found himself becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of it with every passing day. Frustrated with hearing nothing but silence and his own thoughts, Warrick carefully listened to the sounds of the new land around him - the slight breeze that caused the leaves on the branches to brush gently against each other, then the last call of a bird in the distance before the sun's last light disappeared. With a disgruntled sigh, his dark blue eyes search the horizon as the sunset’s bright colors gave way into the darkness of night. He stood there almost expectantly, hopefully. His gaze flit to and fro throughout the sky, his pupils catching every prick of starlight as it appeared. He could easily find the constellations as they became brighter and more clearer, knowing their order and names from staring up at them so often. Perhaps they were there, soaring through the galaxies – perhaps they could see him.
A faint hint of a smile tugged at the edges of his indigo lips. It was a fleeting moment, for his face fell into a statuesque stare as he remembered he was not one to make wishes on stars and the stars were not ones to grant them.
Strangers do not arrive in Tephra without him noticing—at least not often.
He watches the stallion of indigo and blue arrive and briefly, he thinks of the collision of colors and how similar they are to those of the healing twins. But the resemblance to Leliana and Exist end at the thought, for although each of his colors belong to one sister or the other, he is clearly not related. Still, Magnus watches him, following his path into the heart of the land, studying him as he stops and as he tips his head back to take in the stars as they appear, the heavens as they gently wash the volcanic land in silver.
After enough time has passed, Magnus shakes the rust from his coat, and he moves, ragged hooves finding purchase in familiar soil as he traverses over magma and saltwater. Comfort with the path makes for an easy journey and he is to the indigo and mahogany stallion before long, his muscles warm from the quick trip, his smile easy. “Welcome to Tephra,” a standard greeting, but a reliable one nonetheless.
As he comes to a pause, body stilling, he tilts his head, gold-flecked eyes washing over him with little veiled curiosity. “My name is Magnus,” he doesn’t bother to state his position, because even when it was uncovered, it was misinterpreted. He was not King here. He wore no crown. He had bore such titles in the past and he had no desire to repeat them; there was no hunger in his chest for power. He simply guarded the residents here, looked after them, shielded them. Still—it was easy to misunderstand and think of him as tyrant. It always left a bitter taste on his mouth and thus, he omits the fact, content to be just Magnus.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
Traveling had kept her gone for far too long. Though it was easy now to be here or there with merely a thought of placement. She had been to several kingdoms to learn more, make allies and friends. It was wearing on her though. She was longing for familiarity which had never been her way, not until now. Her thoughts of the volcanic sulfur air, the sanded beaches, streams of molted rock, and the golden stallion plagued her mind. So with nar a blink she morphed. Disappearing from one land and back to another she considered home. Not more of one than her night skies but of equal value...
Barriers broke as she miraged with a slight beam of light. As quickly as it came it vanished, leaving in its place the ebony and stone figure. Deep pools scanned the area with a fine tilt of her crown. Nares deeply inhaled the burning sulfuric night air. The chill of autumn hadn't burden this realm as it had the others. Mixed within the smell of sulfur the stallions scent lingered. A quick scan of the area unveiled an unfamiliar equine. Seemingly distracted his attention was focused on the night skies and the mystery for which it held. She had stepped forward but then noticed a golden form approaching the stranger. She paused momentarily. She'd let the leader of the lands get his words in before she interrupted...
DANCING NEON
and i felt closer to the stars for having loved you
His mind travels through the stars, cobalt eyes lost in the vast blackness that spreads above him. As time passes, he will come to find that his mind will wander the skies, subconsciously searching for a family that may never find their way back to him. He never understood his family’s attraction to the stars and their galaxies when he was younger, and even now he feels like he understands even less – but Warrick will still find himself constantly staring upwards.
It was in this moment that he found himself doing just that, staring upwards at what others would see as nothing in particular, when a presence was suddenly beside him. Perhaps a year ago Warrick would have been embarrassed that he had let another get so close to him and quickly realizes that he had been foolish to wander into unknown territory and completely lose himself to the point where he was not focused on what was going on around him. Had his unyielding gaze been on anything other than the night sky and all of its mysteries, he would have seen what kind of world he had stumbled onto as well as that he was not alone.
The presence and voice of the one he would learn to call Magnus grounded Warrick’s ever-wandering mind – at least for the time being. Quickly his gaze flicks downward and he does not immediately turn to Magnus. Instead, Warrick turns an ear towards the stallion and snorts softly (not in a rude way, but almost sadly – as if Magnus’ voice had brought him back to the reality of his situation). He silently surveys the landscape for the first time upon his arrival, his ever-growing curiosity about things unknown pricking at the sight of the volcano and molten rock that ran silver in the moon’s light. “Tephra,” he muses quietly to himself, tasting the word on his tongue and lips. The sound of his own voice shocks him slightly, feeling like this voice sounded rougher than he remembered.
The silence grew between them quickly with the quietness of night spilling over the land. He was comfortable next to this golden stallion, even though he was nothing but a stranger. Warrick took comfort in the simple fact that another presence was finally beside him that was on the ground just as he was. His gaze finds Magnus and a slight nod was given in silent greeting when his indigo eyes met gold. “I am Warrick.” He feels like his voice is methodical and careful, unaccustomed to speaking.
“You are kind,” he says, a hint of a smile cracking along navy lips. “But even I am unaware as to how I can even begin to answer that question.” He then he chuckles quietly, flicking his blue-tipped ears back slightly in embarrassment. Warrick’s gaze breaks away from Magnus’ and with a soft sigh stares out across the unfamiliar land, brow furrowing in confusion.
“I think I am looking for a home,” he admits softly, his dark eyes flickering upwards at the twinkling stars the moment the word home left his mouth.
As his gaze lowers to find Magnus’ gold-flecked eyes, he notices a prick of light somewhere beyond them. Normally, any other would have brushed it off as a trick of the eye, but Warrick was familiar with the night’s shadows and what truly shone in the night (like the stars above), or what was created. With a slightly concerned snort, Warrick nods wordlessly in the direction of where he had seen the light, pointing Magnus’ attention to what he would soon find out would be another presence.
There was a sadness that clung to the stallion’s curves—a melancholy that seemed to be rooted in his very being, the snort he gives when he drops his head one of almost grief. It caused the barest of frowns to twist the corner of Magnus’ mouth, his scarred lips pulling downward in thought. While not an indirect man, neither was he particularly prone to prying within moments of meeting another and thus he chooses to let the sorrow lie. Perhaps in time Warrick would be open to sharing it with Magnus, but for now, the golden stallion would be content to be greeter, pointing him in whichever direction he needed.
“I have been called many things in my life, but kind is not often one of them.” Inky lips drew up into a crooked smile, the result charming and roguish. Warmonger, traitor, lover, friend, soldier—these were all things hurled in his direction, lovingly whispered in his ear, pressed upon his chest with honor. All things, in their time and place, correct—but kind? Magnus did not find himself deserving of such a thing.
His ears perked a little in the thicket of his tangled, matted forelock, face open and handsome with wide sweeping lines and gold-flecked eyes. “If you are looking for a home, you’ve come to the right place.” He motioned around them to the volcanic island, quiet as most of its residents sought out dark corners to rest their heads. “I may be biased, but I think you may have stumbled across one of the best ones around.”
It’s then that Magnus’ eye is drawn to the pinprick of light, the shimmering of a familiar shape. He smiled at Warrick, nodding at his motioning. “Ah, I see you’ve found our resident nebula.” Lifting his head, the mane falling back, Magnus let loose a deep-throated call, the sound low and pleasant—loud enough that Neo would hear them but quiet enough that it wouldn’t disturb those who tried to find sleep.
“Her name is Neo, and she is as enigmatic as the stars themselves.”
A flash of a smile.
“Just one of the many who call this land home.”
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
He wonders if it’s palpable, his grief. He wonders if Magnus can taste it on his words or can see it in his dark - albeit welcoming - eyes. He wonders if the golden stranger, ticked with scars and an air of mystery, has felt this kind of brokenness and emptiness. Warrick wonders if he understands.
But of course, it’s only their first conversation. Warrick is not the type to put that kind of pressure on anyone, especially since he is basically an outsider to Tephra. He sighs decidedly, matching Magnus’ charming smile with one of his own (of course, it wasn’t as convincing as it could have been). As the golden stallion mentions the idea of Tephra as a home, Warrick’s dark gaze turns from him and ventures along the horizon that was laid out before them. It was overwhelmingly quiet and still, besides their low voices and the breath of vapor parting from their lips. Perhaps he could make a place for himself here, maybe even go so far as to make a name for himself – he doesn’t need to be known as the son and brother who was left behind.
This thought made his smile seem more genuine and when his gaze falls back to those of Magnus, he dips his head in a slight nod.
And then he spoke of the glimmer of light he had seen only moments before, and Warrick’s smile wavers momentarily. He won’t remember, but his lips had curled ever so slightly – a mere twitch of dissatisfaction - at Magnus’ comment of the resident. Of course this was in no way in direction to Magnus or even the stranger in the distance that aligned herself to the stars (much like Warrick thought of himself previously). The sour taste that had crawled in his mouth at the mention of ‘stars’ and ‘nebula’ would become quite normal as Warrick’s grief ebbs and becomes replaced with thoughts and feelings that he could not ever imagine himself thinking or feeling.
But one day at time.
Right now he feels hopeful, as he stands with Magnus in the ever-growing darkness of Tephra.
“I do need a change of scenery,” he admits with a chuckle, though Magnus could have no idea what he truly meant by his statement. He tosses his head and snorts softly as his forelock and mane fall back into place over his auburn neck and face. “Can you tell me about this place? It seems as mysterious as it is welcoming.”
As the wind whipped her ebony tassels about as she stood solitare in the night. She found peace and sanctuary in its cloaked darkness. Millions of brilliant lights danced above in their proper places. Only a select few wandered the night skies. Streaking an array of light behind it as it traveled. She could relate to both now. Being fixated now in a constellation of sorts. Part of a puzzle instead of on a path to no where's. The stars told many things and she felt this sensation that this newcomer had many questions. Questions within himself that perhaps the skies held the answers too. Dark pools raised to the skies and she smiled...
Satellites flicked forward at her name upon the breeze. He always had carried her name well. No doubt loud enough for her to hear. She acknowledged him with a nodd of her crown as she always had and always would. Whether he wished it or not. Gaze shifting from the stars to his own golden flecked gaze upon her. As his focus returned to his company hers wandered. Wandered the edges of curiousity but she wished not to intrude. It twas not her way so she'd wait for them to finish. Then if the other wished it he could approach her...
DANCING NEON
and i felt closer to the stars for having loved you
He has no way of knowing the pain that Warrick has suffered, or the grief that is rooted within him; he has no way of knowing how he aches and pains, how he longs for things that are just out of reach. The things that he can see and not grasp, twinkling there within reach, teasing him for the distance. Still, if he could, perhaps he would have empathized—perhaps he could have told him stories of life stolen from his lungs and loves he had watched bled dry before him. Perhaps he could have told him about the stone that sits in his chest sometimes, or the way he finds himself longing for years floating in the saltwater.
But Magnus, of course, has no way of knowing these things, of knowing these pains, and he instead can simply only giving him the courtesy of his polite behavior. He maintains his smile, watching Neon in the background but not calling out to her again. She was elusive and wild and trying to tame her would be as futile as trying to drink the ocean into your belly. He had known she was but a flickering light in his life the second they had met. And while he cherished the warmth, he appreciated it for what it was:
Temporary
So instead of calling to her, he just nods his head to her, hoping she knew she was always welcome, before turning his attention back to Warrick. “A change of scenery can be a mighty powerful thing,” he muses, thinking of all the times he has upheaved his life to turn the chapter to new one. “I would be happy to tell you whatever you want to know about Tephra. It is a fairly new land—” a grim smile twists his inky, scarred lips, as he amends, “Well, all of the lands are now fairly new, I suppose.” A tilt of the head in thought before he continues, “But there is plenty for me to share, if you would like to hear it.”
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
The two stand there, as still and quiet as the darkness around them. The land itself was enveloped in an unusual glow – silver from the moon as well as the warm orange of molten lava that runs in rivulets down the volcano and spreads out throughout Tephra with long, glowing fingers. It almost seems as if landscape was caught in between moonrise and sunset – as if time has stopped. It was interesting to Warrick; to feel the familiar silver light of the moon and stars fall onto his auburn skin yet at the same time feel the humid warmth from the constantly moving magma in the not so far distance.
It seems that the two stallions, though very unfamiliar to each other in every way yet at the same time comfortable and at ease, would find as their conversation (and friendship?) grew, that they perhaps have a lot more in common than they realize at the moment.
Warrick laughs and bobs his head in agreement that yes, all of Beqanna is has undergone a change unlike anyone has ever seen. They continue conversing, and though the mare has not joined them yet, Warrick wonders if she will decide to continue venturing in the starlight or introduce herself.
“What do you call it?” he asks curiously, his dark eyes leaving Magnus’ golden gaze and becoming fixated on the towering shadow in the distance, alight and pulsing with trickling lava and smoke. The stars and their constellations have their own names, as well as the galaxies and spiraling nebulae. It was only fitting that Warrick would assume that such a great monument of nature would be named as well – or at least deserving of one. The volcano almost seemed as if it was alive, and Warrick wonders if he got close enough if he could hear a heartbeat within its walls.
Here Warrick subconsciously moves forward, his indigo legs moving him a few steps towards the volcano, his curiosity leading him. He stops quickly, his eyes finding gold quickly and almost familiarly now. “Tell me, Magnus,” he says, intrigued and fueled by curiosity (as well as the distraction that this conversation welcomed), “How long have you been here – in Tephra?” He realizes that asking specifically about his new acquaintance would warrant questions being asked about himself in return, and though the idea makes him hesitant, he cannot resist.
Warrick wishes to learn about more about this stoic and golden Magnus, so that maybe he can momentarily forget his lineage and the fact that he was not where he was supposed to be. He also wishes desperately to learn about this new land in an attempt that he may forget his old one.
Perhaps, in time, the two would grow close enough that they would divulge these secrets that run rivulets through their soul, the things that dig them up and lay them bare. Perhaps, in time, Magnus would learn that the stallion by his side bore a similar stone in his chest a pain that was difficult to think around. For now, Magnus remained friendly, charming, and yet guarded—the secret anguish locked away so that it could not be seen by the casual bystander. His gold-flecked eyes watched the other carefully, but without any pretense. He had been in kingdoms long enough to know what it was to be friendly to newcomers.
“We actually do not have a name for her,” he tipped his head back to consider the volcano in all of its glory, the way that it reared upward, dominating the skyline. He had never considered it before, thought that naming such things was beyond him. While Magnus was deeply connected to the land and to the homes that had called him before, he had never felt the need to label them, to provide them with the names. Even Tephra had received its nomenclature by Offspring and not by himself.
“I would not be against though, should a resident have a suggestion.”
At this, his eyes sparked a little and a corner of his scarred mouth raised into a crooked smile.
Turning back to face Warrick more squarely, he considered the question, letting it rest in his mind for a moment. “Since the beginning, I suppose,” although that felt strange to admit. This land did not feel as young as he knew it to be; the rocks, the trees, the volcano felt as old as time. “When The Reckoning occurred, I travelled up the Mountain with a stallion named Offspring and we petitioned the faeries for a new home, alongside some other allies. We were the first group to be granted our wish. They led us here.” A pause, knowing he had opened up more questions. “At first, the land was run by Council, but the rest of them eventually stepped down to live more private lives.” Leaving him with a singular hand to guide.
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
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