[private] It isn’t in my blood; any

[Leilan]

Leilan

Glaciers melting in the dead of night
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive

The icy plain still shows a hole; rubble and debris have been scattered by Heartfire’s shockwave, and then some of it by wind and ice. Look, there’s a dried patch of blood still - can’t say if it’s his or someone else’s though. The scaled roan has been staring at the place, coming back here every now and then for some time now; sometimes pacing, sometimes just turning to stare at it, only to shake his head and move on - now he finds himself back here again, as if the answer to the problem was in here.

Over the course of the last month, so much has changed in his life - so much has broken, also. Heartfire was broken - he saw it, when she joined the ever-growing group on this isle here and disintegrated this piece of ground - Brennen was broken - left a kingdom behind because he perhaps, did not want to keep it up just for others who didn’t mind if he did or not; instead choosing for a family like Leilan had already done earlier - Castile was broken - torn apart by the death of a rapist and murderer that he’d caused - Breckin was broken - torn between those wanting to choose safety of a Plague, and those wanting to stay home - himself? Scattered into a million pieces, as much as his family and friends. Can’t help them all at once if they’re so scattered.

He’d come here to secure a safe place, and in it had found his natural habitat, so to say; both literally and figuratively because, he was ice in all his being but he also just wanted to make this a new chapter of his life and yes, being around so many leaders, he knows he can do it too, and prove himself a better man. Grown, instead of lingering in childish behavior; too stubborn to hopefully let power get to his head (like it had Wolfbane and Arthas, as is his personal opinion).

A home to start anew - a nee chapter in his life. Where he could offer safety for those who needed it, and perhaps if they wanted him to, he could lead them but if not, he’d be the first to vote for someone else instead - well, that little idea got shattered quickly too. Picked at by a bunch of people who’d rather roam through the night than speak to those already inhabiting the place; those who, upon his questioning, decided to put a claim to the only land Nerine could turn to in it’s time of need, for the other safe lands were well out of reach for any expecting mother, elderly horse, or child. Those who would chase the sick to a certain death just to save their own skin, even if that wasn’t needed at all, but the latter was something that nobody could tell their thick-skulled heads.

He can’t work with people like that.

His need to fix things, however, had been greater than his dislike of them. So when Set had appeared to back these people up, he’d offered to not make it a subkingdom, but a herd-land. They could stay if they wanted, and just avoid the sick ones. But there’s the catch. That’s not good enough for them. He’d not expected it to be, but still, the immediate accusation of not being able to reason with (as if he hadn’t just added water to the wine?)and following challenge, were still a surprise. No, a disappointment. Disagreement could have ended in voting, instead. Or more talking, in a private setting. He’d been prepared to perhaps offer Set a higher position in the ranks if that was needed just like he’d agreed on co-ruling with Cam, but it had never gotten to that. The man had behaved in such a way that Leilan currently did not think he could trust him. None of the other Nerinians had thought so, either. Sad, but true.

And then they said Nerine was violent. Pah. They could be, yes. If the situation called for it. Castile had been on edge due to Sabra’s and Klaudius’ death. Heartfire had been a bit delusional in her illness and fever. That doesn’t mean there had been no possibility to talk. But rather than talking it out with Leilan himself or even with Brennen or Breckin, Phasus and Set would base their opinions of the edge in their voices - upset people would do that, but that had not been part of their calculations. Let alone work towards a middle ground.

If everybody had been using their logical heads instead of their own personal gains and needs, then maybe.

If.

Maybe.

“If only” didn’t make things right. And right now, he could only try to fix this minor broken piece of island, and so he slowly descends into the crater and starts to fill it with the magic dragon-ice he’d gotten. Over time it might have otherwise gotten filled with snow, but this would be quicker.

He’d put his soul into this thing. Like he had put his whole self in everything else in his life. Some things worked out good, some things were a little tainted. So what? There was no strict line between good and bad, never had been, he’d crossed that shady place many times before and back - but he still recognises the difference. Knows that kicking out the sick was no solution, for example. And that he and Phasus could never agree on that, was sad, but it was so much worse now that Set had decided that her ‘solution’ was apparently, a good one.

The mystery was, why Set seemed to hate him so much that he’d immediately gone with Phasus instead of even talk to him? Or was he really so easily swayed by the curve of her hip? And yes, he’ll admit, it takes one to know one, as he’d done such things himself (leading mares on, for a night to forget the world, hoping it would make him feel better, wasn’t so different from what she was doing now to secure herself some safety). But for a magician not to see through it was at the very least suspicious.

All in all, he could only conclude that Set thought that he, or Nerine, didn’t deserve this place. That for Leilan to lead this place, was such a preposterous idea. That he was the one not being trusted, but in fact, he had so many friends and family able to vouch for him, he does think the man could have just asked around. But he hadn’t, of course. Instead, the man who came seemingly out of nowhere (and who was about as ancient as Brennen or even older, but who’s name had gone forgotten over time); and had decided that claiming this land was the right way to go. Take it from those who had actually need of it. But these people, the people he knows... they weren’t the type to accept some ancient leader they did not know. That’s why they rather stood by himself.

So that leaves the bay roan to conclude that Set doesn’t want to talk at all. That he just wants to nag him, and with him Nerine, and that he is just as power-hungry as Phasus, and that he had thought this land might be easy to take when many others where squabbling. But he’d underestimated Leilan big-time. There had already been a conclusion. Phasus had not been able to kick the two other claimers out, because Cam and him had come to an agreement.

And fairies help him, but he was determined now to keep it. For once in his life there is a chance to prove himself. Not to them - obviously they think him unworthy or something - and not even to Nerine and his family and friends - they already know him and support him because he is as loyal to them as they to him. But to himself, mostly.

And everything is hanging by a thread, these days.

Why, though.

But as he slowly fills the hole with ice, pausing every now or then to kick some rocks back in, he notices his brain is leading him in circles, and perhaps indeed, a challenge would be the only solution.

Because it seems like Set and Phasus are afraid the numbers might be against them in a vote.

Cowards.

you set my soul alight

HTML by Vanilla Custard

[Set]

One might be hard-pressed to find a creature more self-assured than he.  

Many find his relentless personality threatening and abrasive; still others see him as charming, hypnotic, finding in him a force that they’re drawn to, either because they do not possess it themselves, or they simply recognize a kindred spirit. It’s chilly today, as many days are on Icicle Isle, a light breeze following the ocean’s retreat, carrying his scent out over the open water. He moves among the low tide debris with a careless step, head slung low, tossing it every now and then to keep his knotted forelock from hampering his vision. The sand is firm, vague hoofprints left in his wake. The island has finally quieted down from the riotous days of its rebirth, but it is a pregnant quiet as it and Beqanna’s futures hang in limbo. He’s really grown quite bored with the whole thing. As if to reinforce his point, the air shifts and the piebald mage is blasted with a strong gust of icy wind. He turns his head away, mismatched lids slanted over yellow eyes, ears pinned tightly to his skull as.

It relents some as he moves further inland, sand giving way to increasingly bigger rocks, smoothed by the ebb and flow of time. There are still patches of snow here, though the hardiest of northern plants draw the eye with their spots of brilliant color. When he rounds a knoll, long limbs still rolling along at an easy walk, he spies a dark figure in the distance. It is reflex to camouflage himself against his background, even as he slinks closer to the hillside, positioning himself downwind. He draws his head up, focusing his vision across the half mile or so that separates the two figures.

The dragon-stallion is staring into the crater that his ilk had created when she’d quite literally disintegrated her surroundings. Set watches him a moment longer, wavering between decisions, before his insatiable need to know spurs him closer. The mutts’ minds are easier; they’re a blend of creatures, pieced together by magic, and it’s through these chinks that Set invades. In no hurry now, he ambles closer, his dual-toned silhouette visible, using Leilan’s thoughts to occupy him as he closes the distance.

The way he sees it, Leilan and Camomila’s claims are ill-disguised grasps at power. The Nerineans have their own kingdom, complete with a pet magician. Rumor has it the magicians are among the few who can completely expel the Plague from mortal and immortal body alike. They desired a safe haven but had destroyed initial talks with careless magicks, endangering the lives of all those present. They wanted diplomacy, to compromise, yet all he had heard was how wicked and untrustworthy he and Phasus were. Leilan disappears into the earth when Set is nearly there. Truth be told, Set doesn’t give a damn what happened to the island anymore. He had intervened because Niklas had been there, stayed because he had sensed the potential in Phasus (he thrills at the memory of their entangled magic), lingered because he could, because it makes them uneasy. If they had not been so pitifully defiant, so eager to push him to war …

(They can’t know, yet, that while he is cunning, a student of the silver tongues, he is firstly a brute, a beast of conqueror’s blood, of gnashed teeth and bitter triumph.)

Reaching the edge of the crater, he peers over to find Leilan repairing it. Blinking once, twice, Set measures the presumably occupied stallion for another beat or two, his expression unreadable, lips pressed together. At the ice-drake’s final thought … cowards … a wide grin suddenly erases his stony expression. He shifts his weight, leaping deftly from one cleft to another with the otherwordly surefootedness of a mountain goat, down to the floor of the crater. His gold-colored eyes glinting with something that Leilan will be hard-pressed to interpret, Set steps over the leading edge of dragon-ice as it fills the hole. He has yet to withdraw from the other’s mind and it is through this connection that he now funnels some of his own magic, stoking what is already in Leilan. Still grinning, he seeks to meet the roan’s eyes.

“You and I have an entirely different definition of a coward.” He shifts his gaze away to check the edges of the crater for surprises before swinging that rogue’s head back ‘round. “Besides, there are far worse things, don’t you think,” he continues amicably, as if they were old friends. He pretends to think, eyes rolling up in an exaggerated motion.

[Leilan]

Leilan

Glaciers melting in the dead of night
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive

There's many things he is and a few things he isn't - the latter cruel, boring, or a liar. That's probably about all he can claim not to be - and if he were to describe himself the words annoying, stubborn, and idiot are on the forefront of one's mind, he's quite sure. He has a way of getting under people's skins. It irks some, intrigues a second; either way it's more or less a test to see if he can let this person in, or should rather keep them out. There's a few layers one must go through to get to Leilan's core, and so far, Phasus has struck the second - which honestly, is the grim one. Set - well he still doesn't know, but his choice for Phasus tentatively puts him into the same category - the ones he probably never comes to like and would rather cast out and have nothing to do with. Pretty words or violent threats won't sway his opinion.

Problem is of course, that Leilan isn't so much of a diplomat either; he's only learning now. He sees how easily his words got interpret wrongly, and it tires him to work around such in his speech. But it's already done - and honestly, one could have reacted differently to this interpreting of his words. He's always been a warrior - well, warrior-plus, perhaps, providing some light and ease in a ruler's life, but still in core not trained enough in diplomacy... hmm, well, maybe it's just about keeping his mouth shut. But that's the boring solution. And admittedly, one that gets him stuck in his current (or previous) behaviour, which is something he is now finally, maturing out of... Or not. Seeing as he doesn't get much room to grow recently, it's rather much like being stuck between closing-in walls. Of course he bites, then.

And he bites in the name of Nerine. Not that Nerine really needed that right away - but with Phasus and her little gang invading, it had become clear to him that it was in fact, quite necessary. With her fake ideas of safety, she would threaten his loved ones. He'd rather rule than give it up to her. And sure, perhaps hanging around all those rulers all the time, it might be time to step up some more. But like this...? Castile's idea hadn't been so bad. In fact, he'd already travelled to the mountain to perhaps ask the fairies what should be done with this island. -sink it-

Hoof-beats on a rocky surface approach him, and a quick vision change betrays the other's position, a stark contrasted heat signature between their icy surroundings. He doesn't feel like talking much right now though, and so he pretends not to notice and switches back easily (ice blue to match the dragon's ice). Hawk-eyed view now, recognizes the two-toned male with little trouble. Oh, it's Set. Hmm. Perhaps he'll go away. There's been no talking to this guy some time now, after all. All he does is lurk in shadows and point a hypocritical finger. Quoted a bitter ex-amazon into saying Nerine doesn't need this land. But Nerine could decide that on her own. It's stupid to depend only on a magician; he'd have no life of his own. Or to let babies be born in a plague-ridden land. And have neighbours that would be on edge with them, a constant threat of war looming.

What should make him think it's different now?

The two-faced man however, still approaches; stops to talk to him about his own thoughts of them being cowards, just now. Congratulations, you can mind-read. The ice-drake stops his icing, looking to the man with almost an empty-looking gaze. Probably Set just doesn't want to admit he might fit the picture of being a coward. Well, that's entirely his own doing. He hasn't exactly worked to better his image among those of Nerine so far.

The salt-and-pepper male then continues in a too-amicable tone, that there are far worse things in the world than being a coward. Leilan isn't quite so sure about that - a cornered coward will make the weirdest moves; to save their own skin, they might destroy the rest of the lands. Take Phasus for example, so ready to step on anyone who'll let her. Though he thinks that Set just doesn't want to see her for what she is. He wonders if he ever looked any deeper in her mind. It's possible he neglects to do that because he already has her on his side. Leilan does wonder how long that will last. Something about her... oh well. Not his problem. No wait -  they're still here.


He climbs back out of the crater, past the two-toned man. He looks for some more rocks, and kicks them slowly back towards the hole, trying not to think of all that's wrong because it won't help him to go back in circles. "You know what your problem is, Set?" he asks while he's still turned away. When he reaches the half-filled hole and kicks in the stones, the scaled stallion sizes him up. They're somewhat similar in build, though Leilan has perhaps more mixed draft influences, but also random blood, most likely Iberian and Arabian kinds, which evens that out. Similar in size too; he's only inches taller than the black-and-white one. "You read our minds, and that makes you think you know everything about us." But he doesn't know shit. One simple refusal to bend to someone he doesn't know but who sides with someone he doesn't trust - even changing his own proposal to try and meet in the middle - and he's the idiot in this? Grasping power, perhaps that's what he thinks he's doing? Well, maybe he is; to be honest he's not content with living his whole life in someone's shadow, to just serve and go forgotten in history, so yes, he wants to have something first, to be able give it away. But look who's judging - hypocrite. Every claimer on this island at the very least wants some tiny bit of that power, or they wouldn't be here. One's goal is to kick out the sick ones (which includes half of his family, because surprise, they don't dare set foot on this unruly and quite unsafe island and thus got infected); his goal is to let everybody in. That will always clash.

He shrugs a little, then, already moving towards the crater again. Not like he had never made wrong assumptions, but at least he was more careful with that nowadays. He just hopes to be wrong. That Set is ignorant about Phasus. "In contrast, we non-magicians must make do with what we see and hear."

He circles around to kick some more rocks into the crater, and then follows them down to fix them into the ice. Wouldn't do if this partly melted in summer, that it then would lose it's structure; better secure it now with more than just snow and ice. Give Set some time to think of what he knows and doesn't know. Or what image he gives off; the only image the Nerinians can judge him on currently isn't a very great one. His name is long forgotten, and he shouldn't assume that mentioning it would mean anything to those who currently living in Beqanna. Sure, there'll be an old soul or two to recognize him somewhere. Brennen, looks like, though they don't seem to be friends, from the sneer Set gave him. Scorch maybe, though she has been dead for a decade or two in-between he thinks, so who knows, really.

The point is Leilan doesn't easily give his trust to someone he doesn't know. Because if he does, it's usually forever. To trust Camomila was already a lot to ask (he doesn't, yet, not fully, it needs more time). To trust in a random magician who sides with a girl who openly threatened his family - no way.

you set my soul alight

HTML by Vanilla Custard

/figured I'd mark this private so they can discuss things... you know, without a second crater appearing xD

[Set]

There are very few in this world – or any world – whose opinions mean anything to him.

His eyes roll back down, tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth with an audible snick. “Perhaps not,” he says with a raised brow, outwardly ignoring Leilan’s dry, internal comment on mindreading. What was the point in being so damn powerful – power that he had earned in the raw light of battle, not that he had petitioned some fairy for or won in one of those quests some of them go on about – if he didn’t use it?

His scars itch, silver knots of raised tissue raked across his shoulders, and he moves to the highest side of the crater, stepping over several rocks half embedded in the ice. With a low groan, he pushes one side up against the rough wall, trying to find an angle to relieve his itching. His helping magic draws back into him when Leilan brushes past him, clearly unimpressed by Set's willingness to assist him, and climbs back out. ”You know what your problem is, Set?” Leilan’s voice is muffled, out of sight, and Set leaves his bear-like scratching to walk to the other side. Rather than climbing back out as he had climbed in, in horse form, there’s a hazy black and white shift in the air, a flash of pain that he’s long grown accustomed to, and a domestic tabby climbs back onto level ground. "You read our minds, and that makes you think you know everything about us." Unconcerned, he pads along the edge of the crater. When he finds a patch of brown grass and dirt, he sits down to groom himself.  

At some point he leaves Leilan’s head. The dragon-roan is going around and around, chasing the same thoughts – both dizzying and tedious.

Everyone wanted a magician around when it was convenient for them, but cue a mage who delights in his magic and practices it every chance he gets ... There as a time that Set was just a horse, nary a hint of magic in his veins. His father had come from somewhere beyond Beqanna, where they took young stallions from their mothers to fully immersed them in the art of war. Set's own mother found, for the most part, the traits of others distasteful, a crutch, and perhaps there was a time that he had thought the same, devoted to her as he was. She had eventually come to accept him, her triumphant and bloodied boy, and in her acceptance he had found his real self – the version that now lounges brazenly before an ice-drake in the form of a common housecat.

“Not entirely,” he finally replies, yellow eyes following Leilan back down into the crater. “But I could.” And he leaves it at that. It is true, he has been gone for a long time. Does it matter? Not a bit. He is still just as powerful – even more so with Phasus at his side. He has no aspirations to be a god, nor a fairy. He has been a king, for over a decade - of one of the most commanding kingdoms in Beqanna. He has no current desire to lead the masses of Beqanna. He is adrift, with few goals beyond the immediate now.

“Indulge me, then, Leilan. What do you, as a non-magician, see and hear?”

[Leilan]

Leilan

Glaciers melting in the dead of night
and the superstars sucked into the supermassive

If he could, he'd rid the world of all magic.

The fact is that he can't, but that doesn't mean he trusts a magician over an untraited horse. Sure, he trusts Brennen - only because that man is his mother's best friend, currently lover, and he knew him before the water magic. In fact... in fact he hadn't quite trusted him either, when he'd returned after a year-or-so of 'practising', secluding himself. He said he was in control then. Said. Claimed. Like with Set as a whole, it's a see-first-believe-after setting.

And the latter had simply screwed it up; that is, if he had ever thought or hoped to not be Leilan's enemy.

His comment is met with a 'not exactly, but I could' - it seems they disagree on the subject then. In Leilan's mind, knowing someone goes beyond knowing what or who they are, or behave like, right at this very moment - it's a bond made by past experiences that goes with 'knowing'. To dig that deep, even as a mind-reader, one needs to spend more time than like, ten minutes (as they had so far in total), together. Have actual conversations. Oh and most importantly - it shouldn't be one-way traffic, because really otherwise the mind-reader would not be trusted.

But perhaps the dual-toned male just doesn't care about being trusted?

The stallion is now a small cat; might have been for some time, he hasn't exactly paid attention - like he hadn't noticed the man's presence in his mind of the little prod to his ice magic, because he had almost immediately after, stopped using it to talk instead. As this little animal stares at him, and challenges him to explain, Leilan scrutinizes him - unsure if he's being sarcastic or not.

A breath escapes the roan, at the same time that his tail flicks to his hocks. Giving in and being severely irritated at that fact, perhaps. "Since you asked." he starts dryly, then looks to Nerine (or rather, the east) before turning his attention to the cat. "I hear a summons from a dark god, and see the plague that comes off it. Only stupid people trust a god and do his bidding without question, but that's not the point. I know my family - they'll struggle before admitting they fear this sickness, or even have caught it maybe, but when they do they'll want to come here - a safe place, as it is said. The only one close enough to Nerine's borders to reasonably turn to, even if it's cold."

He moves an ear, in irritation with the recent past as he recalls it. "I see a green mare claiming this island, without having any friends or subjects or even previous experience with Beqanna, to back her up. But at least when I tell her I can't fully trust her, she accepts that. Perhaps in time, I might." He shrugs - could be a few months, could be a decade. He might never fully trust her, in the end. But Camomila wasn't that important now. After all, she had turned out to be the easiest... threat... to deal with, if she even was a real one. Hadn't seen her around a lot lately, perhaps she's found an easier place to claim. But she was skilled in diplomacy and she would have agreed to working with Nerine - all well and good... enough.

"I see a gathering in the night that ignores all of these things - Nerine's claim through Heartfire, as well as Cam as a whole, so I warn them they're the third. I hear they have plans to throw out the sick - that'd be half of my family and friends on here: they have come to prevent spreading it. I hear they don't trust the fairies' claim that the land is safe at all, as a reason for this - a bullshit reason, because then they could have claimed any other land instead. Besides, who says they'll keep to this place or accept Nerine as the kingdom in the north - who says they won't want to claim that as well. So I don't want them here. Easy choice." It's family and friends against unknowns who threaten those - hardly worth reconsidering.

He looks to Set. "Last I see a magician backing this threat to my home up without, seemingly, prior knowledge of them or us. One who clouds himself in the shadows of the forest, and speaks through animals because he can't be bothered to put any more effort in meeting in person, even though he should be able to do so, since he has, oh yeah, magic. One who shifts and spies through a fox' eyes and refuses to introduce himself when asked about this." Of course, it had taken some time perhaps, but he had connected those dots by now. "A magician who is lured in by a power augmenter - or her body perhaps, though she's obviously faking it - even though he's already fucking magic so why does he even need it? So yeah, looks to me like this magician values his power over creating a lasting relationship with the next-door neighbour. Really Set, with all that you're showing so far, how could you possibly be surprised that those from Nerine who wish to start a new life here, rejected your offer. An offer, I daresay, you wouldn't have liked or taken either, had you been in my position."

Besides, Nerine already 'had' a magician, so his healing offer had brought nothing to the table. Leilan didn't need to try and trust in two magicians to not screw up with their healing or protection; he'd rather, in fact, be independent of both of them. For that to happen, he'd need a safe land to give his family; and to give something one needs to own it first. And really, with his ice, and with Nerine his home, there was no other choice but this one. All that, on top of his having no other place to go if he wanted to make something of his life (to not become, secretly, a manservant -slave- like the Amazons of old had; he would sooner or later start to feel like one between the women of Nerine). On top of wanting to make a name for himself, other than the guy who screwed up and had too many children.

"I didn't have a problem with you until you picked the opposite side, Set. I couldn't have, because I didn't know you. But now that you so instantly chose against me and mine, I'll never accept you as the leader of this place. And I think, those I know to be my friends and family, wouldn't go with just any random stallion either - magician or not."

That's the only conclusion he can draw - the only thing he's seen or knows of Set right now. He doesn't even know about their blood relation; sure, he knows the names of Echion and Katriel, who'd switched his mother and her brother. But how could he possibly know anybody else to be family? Sure, he might not have lingered with the Amazons long enough to know, but honestly those who never show their faces tend to go forgotten after a few decades, and Set was no exception.

But the truth is that sometimes there are people in your family you just don't like or trust. That there are friends you'd rather call your brother, instead. That's life - especially life in his family, which is made of mules and easily-flammable stone-heads.
Sometimes, similar personalities like that, just clash too hard.

"I really don't know what this island is to you, other than just the easiest-looking place to claim - of which you were dead-wrong. But you know, you're free to prove me wrong. It just might take me a few years." Simply put, his trust is broken, and it will take a long while to repair it. He shrugs. If there's nothing much else Set wants of him, perhaps they'd better go their separate ways and accept that they can't find common ground.

you set my soul alight

HTML by Vanilla Custard

This is a bleh post but it is a post at least.