"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
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
(Wake up…)
Am I asleep?
(… Just wake up…)
The return of his consciousness is a rogue tide slamming into him, bringing him back from an abysmal darkness he didn’t realize he succumbed to. There are no images, no specific voices of his past crooning to him or urging him to stir. A faceless noise is what speaks to him, a sound that he has never before heard.
(Wake up…)
There it is again, but there is no one and nothing around him.
That’s all there is… just him…
He is under a spotlight – perhaps it’s the silver light of the moon during the twilight hours? – but he is entirely alone where his responding voice carries in an eerie echo. A slow turn of his head to the left, then the right, confirms the emptiness of his consciousness where nothing else remains.
(Tiphon)
Yes, that is my name.
(Son of Infection and Starlace)
Okay.
(Twin to Candle)
I have a sister… a twin.
(You are a beacon of light)
Well, maybe in this twilight zone.
Why is the voice telling him this? Why is there a faceless voice speaking to him in this black void?
A breath catches in his throat as he moves around and remembers the sensation of his muscles and the mechanisms of his body. Wings! Yes, he has wings! He looks back over his shoulder to see the appendages standing vigilant, seeming to glisten with the rest of his porcelain body. A smile stretches across his lips and a fuzziness blossoms throughout his core. Happiness? Is that what this is? A pleasurable ignorance traces across his face as he lifts his eyes to continue looking around, desperately trying to fathom this wormhole he has found himself in.
Where, exactly, am I?
(Beqanna)
Yes, yes, I remember that name! Where in Beqanna?
(Just wake up)
He walks forward again and spins in a circle. Halfway through, he notices a distant light as though he is locked in a tunnel. The moon’s silver spotlight diminishes from his body, leaving him shrouded in darkness. There is nothing except that small light. Narrowing his molten eyes, Tiphon walks toward that strange illumination. Then he’s running. His wings clutch to his sides as he hurls himself into a steadfast gallop with a sole purpose in mind.
The light.
This world of shadows claws at him, but he persists until he is swallowed by the silver light. It clutches his entire being, forcing air into his lungs.
He gasps.
His eyes truly open.
There are trees, meadows, mountains, and hills, but there is also turmoil and decay.
Beqanna. He is in Beqanna.
And he is awake.
11-01-2018, 10:08 PM (This post was last modified: 11-01-2018, 10:10 PM by Madelyn.)
So let your heart, sweet heart Be your compass when you're lost
She had been caught up in a dream.
A dream that had almost felt like it had lasted for a lifetime. She doesn’t recall much of the years that had passed by. Most of them have come and gone. It had simply been a lull, and she is waking up for the first time in a long time.
Madelyn finds herself in the midst of an enclosed section of the meadow. A hidden part of the world tucked away. It is her safe haven—not even the darkness of the world could find her here.
She yawns softly, barely opening her eyes just yet. The feeling of dreariness of her sleep is still taking a toll on her. Inhaling the bitter air, she closes her mouth sharply. The crispy air of winter greets her softly as it sends a rush of coldness down her throat. Her hazel eyes burst wide open with shock.
The buckskin girl shakes her head, letting the moment of shock quickly pass away. She carefully looks around her, trying to remember how she had gotten her. The memory is completely gone, but that is perhaps what happens when you are one to turn to the world of dreams. Madelyn has always found herself caught up in a world of such things. All she knows now that it is dark.
Feeling the last of the yawns escape her lips, she pulls herself up and stretches one leg out at a time. She allows herself to take her time. There was never a rush for her to go anywhere. No one had ever needed her, and no place had ever truly captivated her.
Slipping through the small enclosure, she carefully peaks out into the world.
Madelyn can barely see anything except for what the silver moon illuminates within the night. So far everything looked the same to the buckskin girl, but something did not exactly feel right. Something felt extremely wrong.
She pushes herself fully out of the enclosure now, curious to what this weird feeling she can’t quite shake off. “Hello?” She calls out, feeling a sharp shiver run down her spine as the first days of winter continue to greet her. “Is anyone out there?” She can feel the presence of someone, or something nearing her but there is nothing. There is no one.
The mare then comes to a standstill, falling silent as her gaze flickers across the meadow.
11-02-2018, 10:15 AM (This post was last modified: 11-02-2018, 10:16 AM by Tiphon.)
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
Knives drag down his throat to his lungs, the winter air clawing into him and leaving him raw. Another painful gasp of air confirms that he is here, among them again, but he is confused as to why. The abysmal world he fell victim to has receded, but his new surroundings aren’t any more fruitful. When his molten eyes sweep curiously across the meadow, he sees only destruction and mayhem. Winter sighs across them, chilling Tiphon to the bone, but this isn’t only a seasonal fluctuation. There are many scrambling away, shouting away the peril that looms dangerously near. Plague, he overhears someone scream, disease. Oblivious to the intricacies, Tiphon roots himself and watches the world pass him by.
No one is familiar. No one calls his name above the crowd of heads or rushes him. So why does he remember this place, but nothing else?
As the numbers thin out, he takes note of a few stragglers, but it is a solitary girl that dislodges him from his stagnation.
”I am,” he whispers, his voice almost lost with the wind, but he walks toward her, drawn to her. Perhaps she can answer questions, he considers as he steps gingerly forward, desperately trying to remember how to walk, run and fly. His neglected muscles scream in protest, and yet despite his inactivity, Tiphon still resembles a perfectly fit stallion in his prime. Blanketed in moonlight, he challenges the silver glow of the moon with his own pure aura. It catches the soft edges of her face, highlighting her sweet but confused eyed. ”I am here,” he repeats while curving his lips into a gentle smile despite how distraught he is about the penetrating cold. ”But I’m so lost. What is going on?” Wisps of information have reached him, but the understanding of it lies just beyond his reach, taunting him.
”Tiphon,” he almost repeats what he had been told in the darkness: son of Infection and Starlace, but he catches the redundancy of it. ”My name is Tiphon.” The taste of his name seems right, perfectly settling into every pore and fiber of his being.
So let your heart, sweet heart Be your compass when you're lost
She can feel the panic from crowd that rushes past her.
The screaming sends her thoughts running.
Uncertainty clouds her mind.
Madelyn remains still in the chaos. She turns her gaze here and there. Her eyes widen in horror as she hears the screams again. It isn’t until someone calls out “Plague!” until she knows why the world has turned into darkness.
Death and destruction have come.
She still does not run though. It feels as if her hooves have formed into the earth itself, allowing her to take root and not move. The girl wants to scream but she does not have the voice when she tries to.
All she does is remain once the chaos has scattered. Once the crowd of disorder has left her alone from where she had awoken from. She was no longer within her dream world, but awake within a nightmare.
Madelyn had finally found her voice. She called out into the darkness of winter. Her body shakes with fright now. She trembles not only because of the cold, but because the fear of what is happening is finally hitting her. I have to leave. I have to go. She tells herself. She needed to go now. To leave whatever this disease was taking over Beqanna.
But where? Where would she go?
The wind catches onto words, fill her ears with whispers. Madelyn doesn’t make out the words. They are lost within the winter winds. Her eyes search the darkness around her. Looking for something. Hoping for someone.
She quickly catches the glow of a light. It’s coming towards her. Madelyn shakes slightly, unsure of what this very light was. She wants to scream out, but she doesn’t. Not when she finally sees the creature of light that finds her—an angel.
His words become lost within her confusion of the recent disarray. “I-I-I,” she stumbles to speak at first, “I don’t know what is happening either.” One minute she was within her dreams, the next she was awake within the chaos. “I heard someone scream plague, but I don’t know.” She can’t be certain. She can’t believe Beqanna would come to destruction.
“Madelyn. I’m Madelyn.” She says after noting he had introduced himself. The girl finally then realizes there is a soft smile on his lips. A silver lining within the darkness.
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
He can almost taste her fear as it extends far beyond her skin, reaching for him. Tendrils of her fright nearly thread through him and sink into his blood had it not been for a chance step back as he watches her absorb the damage already wrought on the meadow. A tumultuous storm of voices, shouts, and groans thickens the air and almost takes his voice away. His initial whisper is lost on the wind and so he had tried again to coax her attention, this time with success. An image of beauty is rare in this grayscale place where trees have been stripped naked and blood splatters across the dead earth. Tiphon desperately wants to embrace her, to pull her into his chest as a reminder that this isn’t the end, but he restrains himself as she uneasily closes the space between them. Like others, her eyes are bright and wide as she drinks in the sight of him for the very first time, but he isn’t certain why. In reality, he hardly realizes who – or what – he is. Ignoring her gaping expression, he quickly glances sideways as an infected horse stumbles past, droplets of blood speckling its muzzle.
”Plague,” he echoes after she confirms his vague suspicion. It makes sense now. His mind reels as to why – or how – but he doesn’t ask her. She is as much confused as he is. Neither of them know; they just want to survive, to escape.
A single step draws him closer to her, but they do not touch, not yet. He is weighing the situation, considering the options as his observations lead him staring briefly up at the ominous sky. ”We obviously cannot stay here,” he finally says when his gilded eyes fall back to her, following her hesitant introduction. ”We can find refuge, together,” the offer slips sweetly from his tongue, unable to bear the possibility of leaving her behind. Playing it over, he confirms to himself that he couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
There are so many like her – like him, that he won’t admit – that need help, that need a balm for their fear and pain.
Although limited, he can at least try.
Shifting his weight and ruffling the delicate feathers of his wings, Tiphon finally reaches forward, touching her with the velvet edges of his muzzle. ”It’ll be okay,” he hopes, ”and I will try to protect us both… I’ll try.” Although the fear of failure is climbing up his throat and hesitating his words, he pushes past with determination. It’s all he can do, all he can be. A light in the darkness, that voice said, and that’s all he wants to be.
So let your heart, sweet heart Be your compass when you're lost
Madelyn doesn’t know what it is like to live within a world of darkness. All she has ever known is happiness. Even the memories that once brought her sadness—the one where her mother abandon her—no longer have a reign on her perspective of the world. Within this darkness she has awoken in, there was a silver lining.
He was her silver lining right now.
She holds desperately onto that. It wasn’t out of need, but out of finding a way out of the darkness. A light that came to her in her time of chaos and confusion.
The way he says plague again only confirms what she heard through the screams and cries. Beqanna was being consumed by a deathly disease. It seemed hopeless, but she had to find a way out.
They both did.
Her hazel gaze never leaves the white angel. She could not, would not. Even if she blinked he could be gone within an instant. Just a dream within a dream. Was it a dream though? It could be. A part of her almost pleaded that this was.
But it is not.
It’s too real right now.
Tiphon was more of a forward thinker than her. She wouldn’t have possibly thought of leaving or finding safety just yet. Was there any safety to be found? The dreamer doesn’t know. But maybe, just maybe there was. She can only hope.
Madelyn nods her head. “You are right. We definitely cannot stay here.” She smiles next at his offer. It was more than she could ask for, especially Tiphon who is a stranger to her still. But he had only shown her kindness since they had met, so why should she not go with him?
“I would like that,” she says agreeing to go with him. They would need to find refuge, a safe place away from this disease. She didn’t want to die, to become a victim of this plague that consumed her homeland.
His touch is warm and welcoming within the icy cold night. It brings a soft smile to her velvet lips, and instantly makes her face feel hot as she blushes at him. However, she must remind herself, must tell herself, that it was only a warm gesture.
“Thank you,” she says softly, finding her voice after a few moments of silence and getting a hold of herself. She returns the gesture in return, though hers is shorter lived. “I think we should go now,” she offers. Who knew what else the plague brought too. There perhaps were more dangers lurking around than just the spread of a deathly disease.
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING OF MOVING ON
He just doesn’t want to fail, not again.
Forward-thinking is all he can try to do. He wants so desperately to help, to offer a safe alternative. She is dreamily lost in this chaos, praying that it isn’t real. Even confused, she is beautiful. Tiphon looks at her fondly from underneath his forelock while trying to map out their destination. Like a fool, he offered her a float with no foundation. There’s a glimmer of hope in her eyes, and it brightens her worried face, but he didn’t consider a place they could go. It was an idea tossed in the air out of panic because he doesn’t want to see her beauty darkened and destroyed by this pestilence.
Heat fanned across his face when they touched – a reassuring gesture, but one of few he has experienced – and though it startles him, he is still slow to pull away. The smile that it blossoms across her face is enough reassurance of the direction they are headed. They are strangers, and yet the disaster is bringing them closer like missing puzzle pieces.
”Madelyn,” her name is sweet on his tongue, brimming with joy even amid the disease engulfing them. She confirms that they must flee, that there is nothing more for them here. A final sweep of his eyes finds most of the land barren and consumed. Contorted tree branches loom over patches of the meadow, the grass wilted and hopeless. ”There is an island offshore. Perhaps it’s safe there?” He doesn’t realize how long of a trek it is, especially for one grounded without wings. The name escapes him, but he remembers a grainy voice in his head mentioning refuges, an island being one of them. They would have to swim – he wouldn’t abandon her even for flight – but the gains may weigh out the costs of travel. Tiphon inches closer, drawn to her even in her silence. ”We will find the island together and stay there for now, yes?” The gentleness in his tone contrasts with the soldier-like aura he radiates – a softness underneath the steel.
Looking up briefly at the sky, he tries to capture the scents of the world – like flies in a web – before mustering her in the appropriate direction. ”We can stop whenever you would like, Madelyn,” his lips press to her shoulder as he aligns himself with her, his wings remaining clutched to his sides, ”and if you feel ill, I will do my best to help you.” He offers all that he can, not realizing that the infection is swimming in his own bloodstream.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
@[Madelyn]
And then we can continue the thread in the island resort, if you'd like
