"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
the secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
Being back in Nerine feels a little weird without her mother present, or her sister, or her brother. It is weird because there is no Wishbone, no Scorch, no Brennen that she can see. No Dovev either, but she and he never really spoke and she thinks their personalities would have clashed anyway.
But there is a new mare she doesn’t know; she sees her and she wonders what her story is. And what else is a former princess to do in her homeland, than meet the new people?
Of course, she feels far from any sort of privilege she once might have had; taking after her mother but with a tad of reckless bravery from her father’s side (through her grandmother he would have said), the girl she once was might indeed make a good queen.
At the moment, she is a bag of bones dragging herself through her home, hoping to find footing.
But the bald-faced mare, her face damaged but her skin similar to her twin sister’s, calls to her in a way. Perhaps because she is damaged, too, although Wenny’s damage isn’t so easily visible. Perhaps because she seems to be alone, or perhaps she is just the first she can approach around here.
She’s overthinking it.
”Hello. I’m Eurwen.” she smiles weakly, hoping the mare doesn’t react too disturbed today.
Nerine has been filling up. Ghosts are drifting across its borders in ones and twos, and she sees them, finds them stifling, and keeps only near enough to watch when things look interesting. She had seen the pink-spotted mare cross into the kingdom with another young mare - that one antlered, but both wearing sadness across them like cloaks. Neverwhere had kept her distance.
But it would seem that she has a magnet in her tail because wherever she goes, the creatures come to her, drawn to her scowling face. She cannot fathom their interest, certainly she does not strive to be interesting, and yet they come, and worse, they stay.
This is getting a bit ridiculous, she thinks, as the other mare comes nearer, redirecting herself with apparent purpose. The dappled mare huffs and lifts her head from her grazing, chewing slowly at the grass blades that stick out from between her lips, pale eyes following the approaching spots coolly. The spring sun glances blows off hip bones and the too-sharp point of a shoulder, and the threads of the girl's mane glint dully, dirty with rock dust and grime, but the metallic sheen cries out from beneath the film when the clear sun hits it. Everything shines in Nerine, there is nowhere to hide on the cliff tops.
She blinks and lets one ear sweep back, the other tracing the sound of hooves dragging in rocky soil - tired, heavy feet, trampling her peace. Eurwen introduces herself and Neverwhere greets her with silence, lets it linger between them for a long moment, stony-faced, until she relents with an exasperated sigh at the blue eyed angel whispering in her ear that she knows better.
"You're new here." she says abruptly, unaware that as far as Eurwen is concerned, she is the new one, "Neverwhere."
The visible lines of Eurwen's ribs makes her think of Eyas. Are you gathering yourself an army of skeletons, Neverwhere?
the secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
The mare before her is perhaps the only one who appears to not care about anything; appears - surely she cares about something, be that her meal or her irritation at walking skeletons.
Eurwen isn’t phased. She knows her cousin too well to be bothered by the silent stare she receives, knows what the Plague did to others too well to be bothered by the way she looks. The otherwise not-that-healthy looking spotted mare’s eyes are bright, pretty much the only think about her that currently has this feature. Inky pools focus on the icy ones, and she smiles a little at the mare.
She looks like the family she hasn’t seen in years.
The other finally introduces herself, preceding it by a comment that slightly widens the dotted mare’s smile. ”I’m not. But I have crawled out some ungodly hole, so I’ve missed a lot of the comings and goings of Nerine.”
Assessing the silver-dappled skin of the other mare briefly, she looks to Neverwhere. ”You’re similar to my family in so many ways. I think you fit right in.” It may be a weird sort of compliment, but it is what it is.
She has a question, but she holds off - she was always more interested in diplomacy, and besides, if Neverwhere had only ever been talking to Heartfire before, then she probably wasn’t used to someone talking as much as three sentences and a question.
Nothing obvious changes in her expression, one ear turned back, a frown still faintly pulling at the corners of her mouth, but Eurwen's response catches her a bit off guard and when she replies, she does so slowly, voice thick with sarcasm.
"Yes, that is exactly what it looks like you've done." Her eyes flicker pointedly over the dirt scuffs that spread across the spotted mare's coat, the mud still sticking in clumps to her mane and tail. It may be surprising to someone who does not know her - or, perhaps to someone who does - that she notices those details on a coat already naturally spotted. The pale blue of her eyes is hidden behind clouds and it would be reasonable to assume that she can only see things that are quite close, and even then, mostly shadows. Heartfire's magic is not a healing one, unfortunately, it merely bypasses the existing damage.
You're similar to my family. Neverwhere snorts. She has heard this before. Over and over, her experiences seem to repeat. Once she thought to run away from it, to wander endlessly, but it had taken only a few years to realize that even then, there was a repetition, a similarity. In a world that seems endlessly large, it's amazing how quickly you can run out of New wandering from place to place. Perhaps that is the real reason she has stayed in Nerine, because even having a place to call home was new, having a friend in Lilli and trading dry jokes with Heartfire, those things were new to her. Even the crackling hatred she felt for Wolfbane was new, which all begs the question of whether she will grow weary of it all some day and disappear again, hunting adventure.
A problem for another day. She is not yet tired of being inestimably bored of and cranky with the other residents of Beqanna.
"Until recently, it was mostly just me coming and going from Nerine, so it would seem you've returned just in time."
the secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
The facially damaged mare scoffs, makes a rude comment, and lets what is left of her eyes wander over Eurwen’s coat. The spotted mare, tired as she still is from simply walking, isn’t too happy with it, bristling a little before shaking her crest and rearranging her mane, letting the feeling slide off. She had been cleaning up - it just didn’t seem to work with the smaller patches; those would have to grow out of her tangled coat over the coming months. Internally, she sighs - it would seem, that she would have to have more patience with herself and her abilities to restore from her period of nearly-never-ending sickness. And yet. A little less sarcasm would have been nice on a first meeting - perhaps though, that is why Heartfire recruited her.
And only her.
”Are you interested in a little history?” Heartfire might not have thought it relevant, but the Plague that had affected Eurwen so, was not that long ago, and the current rulers still knew why the lands were divided in the four compartments there were now. Then again, she thought it best to make sure Neverwhere was interested before telling her about it; she didn’t seem the type to be tolerant of unwanted stories, and Eurwen should not waste her breath.
When the bald-faced mare cynically remarks that the mare returned just in time, she nods. Seriously. ”I’d thought there would be more.” she admits, looking over the cliffs sadly. It seems Heartfire had not found a lot of time for recruiting. Perhaps then, this would be Eurwen’s new task. Some life to the waters would help, she thinks. ”Nerine has always been a strong kingdom with strong people.” And empty kingdoms look weak to outsiders, no matter what they claimed themselves.
To the Field, then, soon. When the trip wouldn’t make her nauseous anymore.
To the strength of the kingdom, the dappled mare cannot speak. It has been quiet and not obviously well-populated for some time, and from a political aspect, that may not be ideal, but this has rarely been a concern for her. It seems like a problem for Heartfire to resolve, if she wishes. There are many reasons that the previous residents may have fled, the Plague that was healed before Neverwhere arrived, or perhaps they couldn't stand the frigid, windy, winters that scoured the land. Maybe they couldn't stand Heartfire. That seemed possible, it required a certain sensibility to appreciate her moods, one that - inexplicably - Neverwhere seemed to have. Some residents were Sleepers; somewhere, you could find traces of them, but as hard to catch as the fog drifting through to other shores.
It made a certain poetic sense that the wind-beaten grassland would breed a strong people. It didn't go without saying, life is as often not as poetic as one might prefer, but it rings true enough that the residents of Nerine might be like the weathered cliffs, tough and hardy creatures, stubborn, and strong and sure-footed. If that was the case, it's unlikely that they were driven away by Heartfire, it seems hard to believe they would be driven out at all. They have simply evaporated.
Her visitor bristles under her casual insult and Neverwhere almost grins, letting both ears turn forward as the other mare shakes her head, throwing away her irritation like water from her mane.
Or like mud.
And when Eurwen speaks again, there is gravel in her voice, though it scrapes under the same weary softness of before. History? Neverwhere has never been a historian, she has not sought out the past, if anything she has tried to leave it behind, but these are new days, new times. She's also never been interested in having a home, before, or in having friends, so she relents a bit before the irritated spots, lets her scowl fall away. Because, who knows?
the secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
For all that they had a rough start between them, Eurwen finds herself gradually warming up to the silver dappled mare. Perhaps Neverwhere is more similar to her father - it is with this insight that she finally starts to understand her parents’ loving but seemingly polarized relationship - and her sister, than she initially thought.
She’s spent a large part of her life on that Mountain, but she would still know how to - and how not to - interact with those of the other pole, having grown up with them. Neverwhere might easily get under one’s skin, but she’s doing that to keep the world out, to keep hurt out. Whatever history the mare had though, is gone. All she needs is the new start Nerine can offer her.
So when Neverwhere’s question (having ignored Eurwen’s later comments mostly, which was not surprising since they didn’t need one - like Heartfire who may have been Never’s only companion here, the bald-faced mare wouldn’t state the obvious) - when Neverwhere’s question pulls Eurwen to the present day, she smiles a little. ”Nerine, and some of Beqanna. I thought you might want to know the origin of the current state of events.” she tells her. Moving an ear to catch no sounds of anyone else approaching, but the wind and the rocks alone, internally she saddens again. Nerine in the days of her youth had been so much more thriving. Did it all fall down when mother and father left? Or is it Eurwen’s fault for disappearing? She might have been able to recruit more - keep Nerine the center of attention, the Amazon spirit alive.
And suddenly she wishes for her grammama. She’d know what to say and do. But times were sometimes trying and so far she’s come out stronger; Eurwen would need to use this time to grow, as well.
She is not sure she wants to hear the history of Nerine, is not certain that it's history will matter much to its future when there is no-one within it but a little rose-and-white mare caring to remember the names and faces that lived among its crags. These histories of lands are nothing but a moment. How many places has she been, full of memories but devoid of life? What do conquerors care for that history? They see the marks carved into the rocks, exclaim over the brilliance of ancient worlds, and install their own lives over top, ignoring that they walk on the bones of those that came before.
Whatever Nerine was, it is unlikely to be again unless the dead rise and return. Which, she thinks, wryly, given the circumstances, seems entirely possible... Her eyes skip across the emptiness around them and she tries to picture the place teeming with life, but her imagination fails her. She is not like Lilli, practiced in pulling tales out of the stars and the seas, she is not Heartfire, leeching the off the vision of others, seeing firsthand what she should have no knowledge of. Neverwhere's imagination, like her dreams, like her eyes, is clouded and blurry and full of shadows.
"I was under the impression that Lepis and Heartfire were the reason for the current state of things." Lepis so foolishly idealistic that she would set the world on fire to protect it from the cold, and Heartfire... The cold, she thinks, with an amused snort.
Neverwhere looks back at Eurwen and she tips her head slightly when the other mare pauses, lost in what-ifs and regret. There is conflict on her face and the silver dapple makes no attempt to stop it, to comfort, she stands with silent and barely-concealed impatience until a sort of resolve builds in the dark eyes that rise again to meet her.
"Well? Tell me then, though I don't know what knowing will change."
the secret of walking on water is knowing where the rocks lie
The spotted mare is indeed lost in thought, for the facial expressions of Neverwhere’s impatience pass by her without being seen. Perhaps that’s a good thing, perhaps it’s not. Either way she still feels like telling the story of the ones before them to the silver dappled mare, who with a bit of squinting and a lot of distance (like, enough not to hear her) might just be her sister.
She snaps back to the present, her deep brown eyes taking in the mare. Yes, same scowl her sister and grandmother had. Splendid. She’ll do well here.
”Nerine was born from the former Jungle, founded by Amazons and inhabited by many of those who had lost their way to the Jungle as well. The Amazons had always been well-known for only letting women rise in their ranks, and only the best of them achieve a high place among their diplomats, generals, and queens.” She tells Neverwhere. Quick and to the point, she pauses for breath only a litte. Perhaps the Amazons will resonate with the mare, perhaps they won’t, but she doesn’t give herself time to assess, seeing as she knows she has reached the limit of the dappled mare’s patience. ”Nerine recruited only the strong from the meadows - strong at heart - and flourished. It was Nerine’s support to Brennen, a male general, that allowed him to found the Brotherhood - Nerine’s sister kingdom - in Ischia at the time. They called themselves Krakens, Nerinians becoming Leviathans. Then a magical Plague struck Beqanna, and they merged into one.”
Short breath. ”I was born just after the Plague started. My father was one of the former Krakens, and he fought for Icicle Isle at the time. It became a territory of Nerine under his rule, as well as Taiga which was sort of a free, neutral land, though officially Nerine’s. They asked to be left alone, and they were few in numbers, so they were - and we would have our safe distance-buffer to the rest of the world. The North as we became, was a stronghold that none would dare threaten, just as the three other Kingdoms in Beqanna were founded in a similar way.”
She shakes her head. ”I went on a few quests to help find the cure for the Plague, and then I fell very ill. I can’t tell you more of what happened after we Cured the world, but I guess you already know more about Taiga’s recent events than I.”
The spotted mare looks to the bald-faced mare with a curious face. Would any of this help the political climate in the future? Perhaps she would now understand why keeping Taiga had felt crucial to Heartfire. Without it, it would have been like having stone walls with open gates to the Loessians.
As Eurwen speaks, Neverwhere's gaze wanders, and she seems wholly inattentive but for a single ear that remains bent to the spotted mare. It's a brief history, and certainly does nothing to explain the disappearance of the inhabitants. She had not really expected that, though. Something must have happened, some exodus, some atrophy, between the last time Eurwen walked the northern kingdom and Neverwhere's arrival, and nobody left to comment on what that might have been except for Heartfire.
Heartfire, who is notoriously tight-lipped, she reminds herself, turning back to Eurwen when she has fallen silent again. Taiga's recent events? It had been easy to overhear snippets of a conversation not meant for her ears when the land was quiet and voices were carried by wind, or bounced off rock, but she really did not have a full understanding of what took place during those meetings between Heartfire and Lepis. If she ever had given the impression she knew more - and I most certainly have - it was a dangerous embellishment designed to provoke. And it had worked... sort of. Regardless of impressions given, it is no secret that there are grumblings at the border, and even she, though disinclined to be involved much in the politics of it, understands that the loss of Taiga would be problematic.
"Perhaps you shouldn't have ignored Taiga." She's been through it many times coming and going from the common lands, it's connection to Nerine is an important one in terms of access. The idea of it as a buffer against Loess, Tephra, Pangea, though, strikes her as ludicrous. "I don't know why Nerine thought trees would stop dragons."
She looks southwards towards the distant redwood groves and understands too well the desire to have a buffer from the outside world, from dragons and magicians and whatever other magical mostrosity lurks in the southern lands. Perhaps that had worked for a time, the little territory was left alone even when it was taken over, and Nerine did nothing. Was it any wonder Taiga would want something more as it clawed itself out of obscurity? As its residents made names for themselves?
