"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
11-07-2019, 03:10 PM (This post was last modified: 11-07-2019, 03:11 PM by Castile.)
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Litotes is no more.
The news would have pained Castile had he last met the lion king on better terms. By how quickly his allegiance changed, however, the mood shifts to pleasure and relief. Additionally, there is lingering curiosity as to whom next reached out to grab Pangea’s empty throne. There have been rumors, but he loathes the stray words picked from the air. Castile rather see for himself what turmoil or success is unraveling in the barren kingdom. The lust for knowledge nips at his heels as he traipses the environmental obstacles until the mountains and valleys are just outside of his grasp.
But then he turns his head, remembering to have brought company. Such a rare occasion this is, but he attempts a languid role as escort, inviting her to explore a land she’s not yet set her eyes on.
”Just around this bend,” his voice is low and gravelly, much like the tumbling boulders when they lift away from their stagnation. It would have been easier to soar across the jaded peaks to arrive here, to take to the skies with her. Enviously, Castile sneaks a glance toward her wings before looking back ahead as the reach the end of a trail before the kingdom begins. ”Pangea,” he advises once they draw to a halt, edging a step closer to her so that their shoulders tantalizingly brush. They are unified in this moment, strong in their representation although his goals for this trek are minimal. Glancing again at her, he adds as an afterthought, ”You can call, but,” and he turns his attention to the kingdom opened up in front of them, his gaze roaming calmly across its every crevice and turn, ”they already know we’re here.”
Her sense of adventure had been poked when Castile had invited her to travel to Pangea with him. She had heard that Litotes had given up his throne, the lonely king nothing but lonely now. She had accepted his offer of course, why would she give up the opportunity to meet the fierce leader that had chosen to make the barren land her own? Though if one were to ask Nimue she would say the land was not so barren, but as it turned out noone had asked her. Castile had assumed she had never been and she did not see why she needed to offer up that information if it asked. She may be tied to Litotes through a child that neither had had the guts to raise but her ties were thin at best.
She followed the Loessian leader quietly across valleys and hills, through the meadow - her daughters home - and she could not help herself to glance around in hope to see her pale daughter. She had not seen her, here or there or anywhere. She brushed the thought to the back of her mind. Nimue could spend days mulling over how bad of a mother she was to both of her girls, but as it was she couldn't find it in herself to stew on it.
The pep in her step grew as they came to the edge of Pangea. They stopped and Castile moved tantalizing close as he introduced her to Pangea, a land she already knew. Her icy blue eyes sparkled against the red barren land. She smirked as he continued. The canyons tell all secrets. They ruin all the fun. she said mischievously.
The shadowmare found it refreshing to have a purpose again. She was not well suited to simply observe. Anaxarete had no qualms about injecting herself the politics. She’d been doing it for the majority of her life. However, the fall of old Beqanna had rattled her to her bones. She’d only ever been loyal to the Chamber, and with the Chamber gone she was loyal only to herself and her own ambitions.
Taking Pangea hadn’t been a part of a grand scheme, it simply presented itself at the right time. If anything, it was her monsters that had drawn her here. But her new purpose had become rebuilding this place - dragging the kingdom Carnage had built from the ashes. There was much to be done, but the spark had caught. That was enough for now.
However today, her attention was drawn to the border. There are no secrets from the shadow-queen. Especially when the shadows themselves act as her sentries.
Visitors were to be expected, especially now that she knew word had spread that there had been a change in Pangea. She did wonder, idly, how much others truly knew. It had been so many years since she had stepped from the shadows into the light. It was an amusing thought, but a fleeting one at best.
Anaxarete calls upon the shadows to meet them at the border. The shadows swirl like smoke before them, and she deftly steps out into the sun from the swirling darkness. She is a small creature, and by current Beqanna standards appeared quite plain. But to think of the shadowmare as such would be a grave mistake. She inclined her head towards the visitors, her icy gaze flickering between the pair.
“I think you’ll find Pangea has a great many secrets, but,” she pauses, and the smallest of smiles flickers across her lips and disappears just as quickly, “I’ll concede my bias.”
“Welcome. I am Anaxarete.” she says, simply, waiting for them to reveal their purpose in coming here.
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
It may have been wrong of him to assume that she has never been to Pangea, that she is oblivious to customs and it’s location, but it provides slivers of conversation where silence would otherwise reign. Nimue humors him though, following in suit as they eventually arrive to the familiar border. Her comment elicits a grin and curious glint in his metallic eyes. There are many secrets in Pangea, many tales that span the length of the canyons. He knows only of a few, never having dived in its history except for what is common knowledge and what reptiles have whispered in their passing.
The land that once belonged to a God, the dark God.
But Castile isn’t keen on ghost stories.
Before he can mutter anything in return to Nimue, the shadows around them curl and dance, reminding him of fire without light. Fascination bleeds across his face, as he doesn’t attempt to mask it, providing the owner an open display of himself. He grins then, a lopsided and amused expression that puckers the scars of war. ”Fancy trick, Anaxarete,” he admits playfully upon hearing her name and watching her appear from the rippling, dark mass. It reminds him of Litotes, another shadow bender, but there is something unique about her, something different. His mind gropes interestedly for reasons of this all while his gaze traces along her placidity.
Resigning for the moment, her offers an introduction with a tone to mirror her own. ”I’m Castile, and this is Nimue Isolde,” a small kindle awakens in his gut, another sign that soon his sentence will end, soon he will truly be himself again. The tease of his own body poses as a flickering distraction before he casually adds, ”From Loess,” and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Beneath her hooded scrutiny, he is at ease and assured despite the inkling that she is more powerful than she appears. He has no ill will, no treacherous plans, unless curiosity is manning the gate into that unsettling territory. ”Is it safe to assume you’re the newly-risen Queen?” He remembers how the other kingdoms flocked to Loess to rest their eyes on the ascended dragon king. Obediently, he fed them knowledge they craved while still clutching to his chest intimate details. They need not know his full intentions – not then, not now.
”I was bombarded with envoys when I first gained the throne, so I thought I would return the favor, especially to the fabled mother of monsters,” a flickering glance finds Nimue, curious as to whether she has heard the same, curious if fear chills her veins, as a smirk smears across his mouth.
11-11-2019, 08:02 PM (This post was last modified: 11-11-2019, 08:03 PM by Nimue Isolde.)
The shadows come just as quickly as they arrived. The swirling beasts standing guard over a barren red land. Confusion almost.. almost.. creased Nimue's brow as she watched the wispy shadows guard silently, she had thought Litotes had left. The lonely shadow king broken down to nothing more that a lonely shadow man. It did not take her long to remember the whispers of Pangea's new leader however and her eyes lay fixed curiously upon her guards. Only when the small, dappled mare commanded her shadows to let her by did her gaze wonder away from the creatures to lay silently upon the woman as she countered Nimue's comment and then introduced herself.
If she had not been pleased to accept Castile's invitation to join him on this journey before she definately was now.
Her eyes did not falter from the woman as Castile responded with all the silky, pleasing tones of a diplomat. Introducing them and explaining their intentions, or his intentions anyways, to the new leader. She was just her as a tag along she told herself as a half smile adorned her face, curious about who the new shadow queen was. She was not disappointed so far.
Breaking away slightly from Castile she nodded her head slowly at the grey magician. She did not belong to anyone and like she had told Castile she was no diplomat, Anaxarete, it's nice to meet you. You can call me Nimue. Her brilliant blue eyes moved slowly across her guards, glistening despite the shadows heavy presence. and do they have names as well? she said with genuine curiosity. Even the fiercest monster has a name, why should hers be any different? She could feel Castile's gaze settle on her, an action that only speared her curiosity of the powerful woman infront of her. Fear? Fear was not a feeling Nimue had felt in a long while, but one would have to be stupid to underestimate the small, dappled Queen before them.
As they spoke, the shadows twined away around her legs - returning to their master.
She dips her head oh-so-politely at the greeting. It does not surprise her Loess is the first to come, not after what she has heard. Loess who favored residents of the reptilian kind, or so it seemed. Her icy gaze settled upon the dragon-king.
“That would be a safe assumption,” she says, as a smile flickers upon her dark lips and fades just as quickly. Titles mean so little to the shadowmare, for she has so many. Queen. Conqueror. Destroyer. Mother. However, she knows the significance of such things in a world such as this.
“It was the same in the old world. The visits. The posturing,” she says, simply, her gaze still lingering on Castile. She had been a diplomat once. Before she had become more. Before she had shed her blood and sweat on the Plains in the Alliance in the name of her home. She cared little for diplomacy, but she knew it was a necessary annoyance. It was even amusing, at times. Anaxarete was good at this game. “But necessary nonetheless,” she adds, with a dark smile.
However, the smile twists when he mentions her companions - her children - her monsters. “Ah, I see word spreads as quickly as ever here in Beqanna. But it is a comfort that these lands have not forgotten my companions.” There is amusement in the cool voice. It is, perhaps, refreshing to realize she has not been completely forgotten. But oh, if only they knew. And the shadowmare was not going to fill in any gaps in the rumors that flowed through the shadows on Beqanna.
Her gaze then shifts to Nimue - the dragon-king’s companion. For a moment, the shadowmare’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Do whom have names?” the shadowmare muses, aloud. But she continues, answering on the assumption she means her monsters, “My companions do have names, though they do not respond to them.”Only to me, she thinks. “But not to worry - they know not to harm my guests.” she offers, if the woman is, in fact, referring to the alien creatures that call Pangea home.
Her attention then returns to the dragon-king. “So what brings Loess to Pangea? Duty? Curiosity? Or something more?” she asks, plainly.
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Do they have names? The question is a spider web, capturing traces of his curiosity as his eyes slide from Nimue to Anaxarete. Monsters, Castile considers with a subtle tilt of his head. Many have names, but not all. The shadowed queen affirms this, but it’s followed with a reassurance that lifts the edge of Castile’s mouth. Fear does not sink into his pores or gropes for his beating heart; he is too arrogant in his own abilities to be fazed by small monsters – pets. Though, he isn’t quite so foolish to know no fear at all. Caution riddles his thoughts when he regards Ana quietly, her experience and tales radiating from her to near tangibility. How sweet it would be to know everything she has done, all that she will do. Just by this meeting, he is acutely aware that she is a precarious figure in Beqanna’s history and present.
”Some things simply never change,” he drawls with lighthearted humor, realizing how mundane politics are and were. Generations upon generations of interkingdom visits and political standings. It’s what creates, and destroys, Beqanna. The taste of sinful lust is sweet on his lips. Glory, nobility, recognition, friendships. It’s the gasoline fueling them all each and every day.
A sideways glance finds Nimue, taking note of her diplomatic abilities and her eyes as they search Pangea and its ruler. Yes, he confirms to himself, she is a match for Loess and its endeavors. She is in the forefront of this conversation, the meeting of monster and the mother of monsters. Lifting his chin, he mildly answers, ”Curiosity, mostly.” A contemplative lick of his lips solidifies the track of his thoughts. ”When a new ruler rises, everyone scrambles to make acquaintances, or even friendships. There is fear on the horizon, so I half expected some kingdoms to forge an alliance so you can protect them,” a jagged grin tips the corners of his mouth, ”but I imagine a lover of chaos doesn’t need, or want, responsibility or stagnation like that.”
Fascination grips him and holds back the creature that lurks within him. Within a blink and a slow nod, the flash of white, sharp teeth disappears. ”I also imagine that a Queen wouldn’t bring along her monsters unless she had plans… plans that do not involve widespread peace.”
Anaxarete does not find politics to be mundane. Not in the slightest. She had been a diplomat long before she had become a warrior. Before battle had made her something more. The shadowmare was fully capable of leading an attack - of calling the dogs of war to her aid. But to be frank, that simply wasn’t her style. No. Anaxarete prefered to pull the strings from the shadows. Some thought of themselves as a battering ram or another machine of war - Anaxarete was more interested in knowing where the last domino would fall after the first was tipped ever so slightly.
She regards him carefully, especially with the reputation that precedes him in mind. She’s heard things of him just as he had heard of her. It would be effortless for her to bore into his mind - for her to simply take the answers to her questions and be done with it. But no, she affords the dragon king the respect he deserves and so his mind remains unbreached. As long as he behaved, at least.
Curiosity, he admits, is what brings him to her borders. She nods her head, just so. “I cannot fault you for that,” she says, cooly, “I always wonder how I stack up against the rumors.” A dark smile blooms across her lips then. What a curious creature he is - this dragon king of Loess.
“My, my, Castile. Do you think me some sort of warmonger?” She laughs then - a dry, lilting sound. “I have no craving for war. You can rest assured of that.” This much was true, there was no deception in this.
“No one has come asking my protection yet. I’m not sure they’d like my answer if they had. I’m not in the habit of freely offering such,” and that much is true. Anaxarete would protect those loyal to her - but for those with ulterior motives...well, her loyalty was not absolute in that case. That would depend on the strategic advantage of interceding. “Pangea looks to grow from within. We have no desire to expand our borders. We are content here,” she says, matter of factly. It was a statement where she could so easily add a ’for now, at least’ but such was unnecessary. ”We have no meddle with Loess, just as I assume you have none with Pangea,” she says, simply. The implication is clear enough. Neutrality. She will not interfere with Loess if they do not interfere with her here, in Pangea.
But when the conversation moves back to her companions - first mentioned by the dragon king’s companion who remains silent by the king’s side - her tone changes ever so slightly. “My companions are with me all the time - even when you can’t see them. Every moment of every day. They are not only called upon simply when it’s convenient - when they have some sort of utility. They are a part of me and I a part of them,” her eyes flash for only a moment before the cold returns. Perhaps they do not understand - they are connected beyond blood. “They are not weapons, they are family,” she adds, with a note of finality. Family is perhaps not the right word, but she knows it is something easily and almost universally understood. understood.
