"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
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
The water overhead is clear, reflective of the cloudless autumn sky. Ivar floats on his back a half dozen feet below the surface, his pied body dappled even further by the shimmering sunlight as it passes through the warm water around him. Around him, the fish are starting to swim again, reassured by the creature’s lack of motion. The sand is still settling from his arrival, drifting down in ivory veils to the sea floor from where it had been stirred into a frenzy by flicks of the kelpie’s tail. He drifts, pulled by the gentle current in any which way, and he feels his eyelids begin to weigh more heavily. The awareness that he is drifting off to sleep rouses the kelpie, and he surfaces with enough speed to startle the minnows back to the safety of the coral beds below. He’s made it almost all the way to Ischia, he realizes as he orients himself with the bits of green on the edges of the horizon. He is on the far side of the island, miles from the sandbards that allow visitors access to the tropical paradise. Well, he supposes, perhaps it is best to be unexpected. By the time he stands in the shallows, it is on four pale hooves. The tangled cords of his thick mane are thrown back with a toss of his head, and the pale faced stallion eyes the dark line of the forest. The air is as thick and warm as the water, a stark difference to the cool chill of autumn that has begun to invade the rest of Beqanna. The reminder of the lack of seasons strikes him more firmly than before; perhaps that is part of the appeal of the island kingdom. The handsome creature does not step onto the dry land of the island, but nor does he call out for someone. He is curious about what Kylin had told him; was it true that the quiet island has begun to stir?
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
Two seasons had passed since meeting his sister in the meadow that day. Less that he had spent on the island of which she came to oversee. Each day though he intended to familiarize himself with the small plot of tropical terrain. Mainly he patrolled from his skies. Today they are a pale aqua. Much like that of the sea below. Nar a cloud drifted in it's seemingly endless expanse.
Today he glided leisurely upon the air currents. A slight shift in his weight turning him this way and that. A warm updraft wrapping itself through his preened lavender feathers. Silver-hazel eyes scanning the tropical foilage below for anything of interest. Having met an abundant of the residents recently, he could visually identify anyone new that may have arrived. It wasn't his appointed duty to roll out the red carpet for guests nor question their reasons for being here, but certain events as of late caused him to volunteer his services.
Turning towards the route of sandbar leading to the mainland, he beats his wings lightly. The thought of those less fortunate that had to walk the distance from the island to land crosses his mind. What a pity it must be to be chained to the earth. Along the bridge there is movement that draws his attention. A shadow under the surface of the waters that inches nearer to the sandy beaches. Circling around like a buzzard waiting for death, he hovers. Watching as the shadow breaks through the shallow depths and emerges. A glimmer of sunlight reflecting off the strangers dampened body. Continuing to watch for a bit more to see if their purpose here is made known. When not a call is released or further movement is made he begins to descend. Wings tucked slightly to loosen his grip on the atmosphere around him.
Limbs reach for the fast coming earth below. Lavender wings beating faster in slight backwards direction to slow him as he lands just shy of the breaking waves. He didn't particularly care for water, though how many winged creatures do. His long limbs carry him towards the stranger wading in the waters. Wings carried loosely at his sides. Ears thrusted forward atop his high carriage crown. Silver eyes content on observing the mysterious water horse. The slick of his flesh and tangles of ocean in his locks. For such a messy thing there was a natural allure he couldn't place. Brow raising in curiousity as he comes to stand still before the multi-colored stallion. "You look like you're waiting for someone..." He says nothing more. His usually wispy lips remain flat.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
At first he takes the lavender stallion for Kharon, but as the winged creature lands, Ivar realizes his mistake. This creature lacks the tobiano markings that Kharon shared with his sister, but there is no doubting the familiar shade of lavender. Family, he assumes, a relation to Kylin.
She has not mentioned that her family has returned, but this stranger seems at ease with Ischia. A distant relative then, not someone close enough that Kylin found his presence worth mentioning. Ivar’s dark eyes rove over the other male with a cursory glance; he looks for danger and finds none. It has him leaning to the side, relaxed despite his location in a foreign land with a stranger that might well be a glorified border guard.
The kelpie does not miss the way the stallion skirts the water, an odd habit for a creature dwelling on an island. Perhaps there are dangers here Ivar has not considered; sharks do not flee from the presence of horses the way they do from kelpies. He glances back to the depths but finds them empty, and chooses to climb further onto the shore rather than shout an answer over the crashing waves.
Water beads along his scales, reflecting in the suinlight even on the matte black scales that make up most of his pelt. The opalescent hite of his shoulders, face and legs is brilliant, catching even Ivar’s dark eyes, and he shakes the excess moisture away with a shake of his body. The motion has the tangled cords of his mane obscurinf his face once more, but this time he does not bother to clear them away. The obstruction mutes little of his innate charm, but he is not particular effusive in politeness as he replies.
“Your queen. Or someone that can find her for me.”
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
Krone isn't in her best state of mind. She's angry, both at herself and at Klaudius, and at his little fuck toy too. She asks herself constantly why doesn't she just rid herself of him, send him off, she is the Keeper isn't she, and she has that power right?
But it isn't sending him away she wants. It's revenge she wants. For him to suffer like she had, and she hadn't felt this way in a long time. In time, she would get just that, but for now, let him have his fun.
Krone finds herself walking along the beach, patrolling her shores. She notices the dragon-scaled stallion, how he emerges from the water like some kind of land fish. And then she sees Klaudius, and her blood boils at the surface. She approaches fast but calm, not bothering to hide he disgust on her face. .
"You can leave now, Klaudius. I'm sure I can handle this on my own." She growls, urging him to leave with a flap of her wings. The last thing she needed was him listening in on matters of diplomacy.
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
There is my mind, there is my heart.
His sudden appearance in Ischia is a surprise, but unlike the time when so many unfamiliar faces had showed up, his arrival is a good surprise. There is a sudden thrill in the air, and Kylin doesn’t waste any of her time to rush to the beach. It’s a little off, not the part of the beach he would usually arrive, but hey, it was Ivar.
By the time she reaches the beach her nostrils are wide, all in an attempt for her to catch her breath. The lavender and white woman doesn’t bother to hide it, there was no shame in enthusiastically greeting a friend. A childhood friend for that matter too. ”Ivar!” she calls out with a wide smile that curls up the corners of her lips. Kylin’s fins flap a little at her side, imagine like fluttering wings.
She doesn’t bother to greet Krone or Klaudius before arriving at the little gathering. Though she lightly nods her head at the bay and green queen, her attention is on the kelpie king. ”Ivar” she repeats, reaching out to gently tug on a strand of his mane. ”You came to visit again?” It was much sooner than she had expected, but Kylin surely wouldn’t complain about that. He meant as much to her as Ischia did. To have both, even just for a little while, made her feel more complete than she’d had in a long while.
Stepping back a little she allows him a bit more space, her hazel eyes searching his face before quickly glancing towards Krone. ”Ivar,” she says, looking at the scaled stallion with a smile, ”meet Krone, Ischia’s new chosen keeper.” That was something that still conflicted the water loving girl, but who was she to question the island? Nobody. ”Krone, meet Ivar, Loess’ king.”
He remains unmoving even as the stranger nears. Feeling rather secure on the dry sands of the beach. For a brief moment the stallion can appreciate the others prism of light that reflects off the white scales of his hide. Fitting for a creature of the water. Droplets of the liquid cascading down the length of his body as he draws nearer to the beach. The newcomers purpose coming quickly forward. Your queen. His lavender lips remain flat still even as he questions the stallion, "And to what purpose would you need the Keeper of Ischia?"
A potential answer is cut short as behind him steadfast hoofbeats are heard.You can leave now Klaudius. The bite in her tone causes him to grin. Turning his lavender face to view his sister glaring at him. "So good to see you dear Sister. This...gentleman was just asking for you." Turning back to the contrasted stallion to inquire a name, "I'm sorry but I believe I didn't catch your name. I'm Klaudius as you know now. And you are...."
Ivar!
The answer comes from another familiar voice, Kylin. The taffy and cream mare with curious wings comes quickly to the small gathering. Her enthusiasm for the stranger hints to him that they are not strangers. He shifts slightly to allow her past him. When their greeting ends she turns to introduce him as the King of Loess. His brow rises in interest at what his business here is but assumes it to be diplomatic. It uninterested him so with a shrug of his shoulder he addresses his little sister, "I'll leave you to your kingdom duties." He can't help but grin as his eyes slide along her feminine frame. Seeking any subtle hints she is carrying his spawn. Turning back to address the two not-so-strangers, "It was a pleasure Ivar. I trust they will remain safe but I will not be far." He addresses Kylin with a nod before his limbs remove him from the group. Once a short distance his wings unfurl. Gripping at the air to pull himself into the skies. He would remain close to ensure nothing happened to his Queen...
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
A bit of movement at the corner of his eye draws the piebald’s attention away from the lavender pegasus, and Ivar turns his head to see another stranger coming down the beach. At first he think it is Circinae with the bright green hair, but it seems that Ischia is populated by doppelgängers, and the mare that approaches the two stallions is entirely unfamiliar.
His expression doesn’t change at her arrival (the half-interested smile remains on his pale mouth), but when she greets the purple stallion beside him with bold dislike, he does become self more visibly interested. Klaudius, she calls him, and Ivar remembers an older colt from his childhood in Sylva. Karaugh’s son, the kelpie remembers, and he scrutinized the stallion to find some resemblance to the mare he knows. Perhaps there is something of the bay mare in this winged stallion (there is certainly a pride in the way they hold themselves), but Ivar doesn’t have time to ponder especially long. His ears flick forward curiously as the purple stallion calls her ‘sister’.
The flap of emerald wings brings Ivar’s gaze back to the mare, but it doesn’t remain there long. Instead he finds that Kylin is coming up behind her, a warm smile on her familiar purple face. As she reaches up to tug at his mane, Ivar presses a soft touch to the base of her throat, and he slides his muzzle down to her shoulder as she pulls away, resting it briefly - perhaps possessively - across her piebald withers.
Kylin covers the introductions, and this when Ivar’s brown gaze meets Krone’s, it is with far more interest.
“Circinae didn’t stay long, then.” He says aloud, his voice alluring despite the perfect neutrality of his tone. Ivar cannot help what he is; charm and charisma are as ingrained into him as the scales across his body.
“She chose you to rule after her then, Krone?” Despite the linguistic similarities in their names (Ivar knows of the Covelings and their odd habits), the kelpie suspects that this winged mare is not someone that Kylin considers family. She has said that her family left the island - that everyone had left the island. Circinae’s arrival here had been unexpected, and it seems her time in the tropical land had been short-lived as well.
Klaudius takes his leave then, and Ivar turns his handsome face back to the lavender stallion. He says he trusts they’re safe but that he will not be far. Ivar suspects that Krone might be less than pleased by his remaining near, but he makes no comment on it. Nor does he comment that Klaudius’ proximity has no bearing on the safety of the mares. He could remain standing directly beside them and still would be unable to stop Ivar if he wished them harm.
It’s fortunate, then, that Ivar’s intention are (mostly) harmless.
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
Krone is not one to keep her displeasure unknown. So as Klaudius informs Ivar that he will not be far, she is not able to stifle the rolling of her eyes and the scoff that emerges from her throat. She looks over to him as he flaps his wings,and growls a reply.
"I'm well capable of taking care of myself. Don't bother," And she was. She always had been...and she felt more comfortable around the perfect stranger (who Kylin said was the king of Loess), than she had ever been around her brother.
Her tone softens as she glances back to Kylin and Ivar. She assumes from the way they interact, that they must have known each other for a while. She allows herself to smile, though the "watchful" eyes of Klaudius cause her to grow more and more angry with each passing second.
"A pleasure to meet you, Ivar," She murmurs, nodding her head respectfully. "No, she did not..." Her voice trails as she thinks of her emerald queen, she had never gotten an answer to where she was. "But she was not who chose me. The island did, Ischia did." She is reminded of the jewel upon her forehead, forever showing who the island had chosen to take Circinae's place.
html code by Toli, design idea based on "Dovev" by Laura
There is my mind, there is my heart.
You could call her behaviour towards Klaudius reserved. Ivar she had greeted enthusiastic and Krone was offered a friendly smile, she didn’t really know how to behave around the lavender male. Not after overhearing his conversation with Sabra when she’d first spotted them on Ischia. Luckily for Kylin the problem solves itself quickly, as the winged male stretches his wings after a last few words.
Words that put a frown on Kylin’s face as she watches him go. Why would he need to address that? It was not like Ivar would do them any harm, right? He had promised to not ever do that, whatever it was, again, and the lavender and white woman trusts him not to. It shows in the way she stands beside him, too close for just friends and in his personal space.
For now she is content to just listen to Ivar and Krone’s conversation. She always enjoyed the kelpie king’s presence, even if his attention wasn’t focussed on her. It brought her some kind of calmness, reassurance, not everybody she cares for had disappeared. Absentmindedly Kylin bends her neck in favour of brushing her muzzle down his scaled neck, breathing in his scent deeply. Yes, she once again decides, Ivar’s scent smelled much better laced with salt.
It is the mention of Ischia that makes her look up again. Ischia had indeed chosen Krone, and nobody had objected to coronation. That wouldn’t have been the right thing to do, or so Kylin makes herself believe. ”Circinae disappeared…” she murmurs softly, only just loud enough for both Krone and Ivar to hear. For a while the keeper’s words had haunted her, but she hadn’t been able to figure out what Circinae had meant, and thus she had given up trying to find out after a while.
After all, the ex-keeper was just another one in the line of horses that had disappeared. And although not close, that too felt as being left behind.
I V A R i'll use you as a makeshift gauge of how much to give and how much to take
It is with intrigue that he watches the exchange between the green-haired mare and the lavender stallion. Krone clearly holds no fondness for the pegasus despite their (presumed) shared lineage, and Ivar wonders what has transpired between the two of that. It was something serious, he supposes, serious enough that she does not hesitate to share the outcome with strangers.
Somehow he isn’t surprised that Karaugh’s progeny has managed to ruffle a few feathers.
The warmth of Kylin at his side is pleasant, and she is quiet as Krone pulls her attention from the now-flying pegasus. The lavender mare has always been good at quiet reassurance, even if Ivar is not especially in need of support right now. The emerald winged mare does not seem at ease even with Klaudius away, but the scaled stallion does not mention him again. Instead he listens to her explanation of how she had become queen.
The island had chosen her?
The tale seems a little far-fetched, but Kylin does not contest it. It must be true then, in the way that many very odd things in Beqanna are true. The lavender mare tells him that Circinae has left, and Ivar touches her shoulder briefly in a wordless comfort. She - and the island – seem to be more frequently left behind than anything really should.
“I take it you do not plan to leave as quickly as she did?” he asks Krone, turning his gold flecked eyes to the winged mare. “I’d like to establish a relationship between my kingdom and Ischia, and that’s always easiest with less frequent changing of hands.” It’s easiest when there is certainty of inheritance as well, he does not add, because who knows how a mare selected by a piece of land might feel about the choosing of successors.
king of loess minimal smoky grullo tobiano | equus kelpus
