"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
10-29-2016, 05:38 PM (This post was last modified: 10-29-2016, 05:39 PM by Shariden.)
Peace is a funny thing. It lulls you into a false sense of calm and then bam, your world falls apart. It's like the calm before a storm, or how the eye of a hurricane is always still and quiet. When Shariden stepped into the large field, that's what she felt, for the first time in a long time. Peace. The stillness of the world around her only made her more aware, more conscious of her surroundings. Fallen leaves crunched under her hooves as the dark mare steadily walked further into the clearing. She was a curious creature by nature, and this place, right now, was no exception.
She meandered over to a narrow waterfall, admiring it's simple and demure beauty. The flow was calm, and steady. Predictable. She tossed a hoof carelessly into the pool of water, jumping slightly at the unexpected coldness of it. Now, accustomed to the temperature and feeling playful, she stomped harder, seeing just how big of a splash she could create and nickering softly when it splashed up into her face. The bay mare looked around, suddenly self conscious of her childishness. She bowed her long neck gracefully pulling in mouthfuls of water, only stopping when her throat felt as though it was on fire from the icy temperatures of the water.
She stepped back and glanced around, still a little too shy to join any of the other horses around her quite yet. A blanket of clouds stretched overhead, preventing the sun from spreading the full extent of it's light and warmth. Her long, slender legs bent slightly as she stretched her tight muscles before dipping her head once again to munch on the frosty grass beneath her, conscious that it would soon be covered with a layer of snow. .
Peace was indeed a funny thing—and something Magnus had not felt in a long time.
For the last several years, his life had been thrown into turmoil. From the war brewing on the horizon to the way he had been yanked into a magical prison and then spit out again. To the reckoning that had shattered everything to the weight of trying to successfully lead a land into stability and, yes, peace. A dream that seemed further and further removed from reality with every single day that passed.
It wasn’t a dream that he was willing to give up on yet though. So he bent to the weight of the yoke and shouldered it. He would work himself to the bone if it meant that he could drag them just an inch closer to the idea of a peaceful, stable land—and that started with filling it first. So he did what he always did and made his way to the field, picking up the rhythm of an old life that no longer fit right.
The field was not the field he remembered: it did not bustle with activity; the recruiters did not share stories of lands he recognized; nothing was the same. Still, he enjoyed the motions of it. He enjoyed getting to meet new faces and greet them to Beqanna or help them find some sort of purpose. He enjoyed the act of helping strangers move toward the next chapter of their life, wherever that might be.
So he didn’t hesitate to make his way toward the mare, grinning despite himself for her antics in the water. It was refreshing to see someone be so relaxed and at home here—everything recently had been so doom and gloom. He approached just as she was lowering herself to the ground and he nickered lightly in a friendly greeting. “Hello,” one corner of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile. “It is a pleasure to see someone enjoying the field so much although you must be cold now.” He certainly was.
“My name is Magnus. How are you doing on a fine day like this?”
10-31-2016, 02:35 PM (This post was last modified: 10-31-2016, 02:36 PM by Shariden.)
She heard the stallion approaching before she saw him, heavy hooves crunching in the frosty grass. Her head came up quickly; not afraid, but wary. She surveyed him quietly, her eyes slowly going his. "The eyes are the window to the soul." Her mother had said this to her frequently when she was younger, and it was something the young mare continued to live by. In his eyes she saw a hardness earned only through suffering and distress, but she also saw a deep rooted kindness that she was drawn to. His eyes told a story she was curious to hear, someday.
He spoke then, telling her that he had enjoyed watching her amuse herself in the water. She dropped her eyes in slight embarrassment and then met his again. She had been so distracted with studying the horse in front of her that she hadn't realized just how chilled she was until he had mentioned it. Her legs, along with part of her neck and belly were drenched in the icy water, aiding the frigid air in carrying the permeating chill to her bones. She shivered involuntarily, and nodded slightly at his question. He then spoke again, introducing himself as Magnus, and inquiring as to how she is. She gave a soft smile before responding, "Hello Magnus, it's nice to meet you. My name is Shariden." She bowed her head slightly with her introduction, "I'm doing well thanks. This place is breathtaking," albeit a bit quiet, she mused to herself. "You're right though, it is cold out here." She drew into herself slightly, trying to conserve body heat. "And how are you today?"
He saw a tinge of embarrassment and almost wished that he hadn’t said anything. It had been charming to see her so enjoy herself; he wished more nowadays could lose themselves in the moment the way that she had. Since the reckoning, things had been so dark and somber; it was more common to come across someone who was crying and not laughing. The brief moments when happiness did ring out across the land seemed short-lived and followed by the bitter teeth of silence. It was not popular to be jovial.
(Not that he blamed anyone. It was difficult when so much had been stripped away.)
Still, he very much enjoyed her pleasure in the moment and the smile on his face did not falter. “It is indeed beautiful here,” he agreed, looking around them. The field had always been one of his favorite places to visit; the endless possibilities of it were fascinating to him—intoxicating even. He loved the way so many people could begin, or rewrite, their story simply by visiting this place. It had a touch of magic.
“I am doing well. I am glad to see the field picking up in activity—it means there is life still in Beqanna.” It had grown quiet, perhaps too quiet, as the dust settled. He imagined most people had withdrawn, like him, to get their bearings and lick their wounds, but it was time for things to right themselves. Just because disaster had befallen them didn’t mean that they had to stay down. The sun always rose again.
When she shivered and mentioned the cold, he motioned to his side. “If you want, you can come over here and warm up for a bit.” His smile was just a touch shy, crooked and charming.
“I am not good for many things, but I might be able to help with this."
11-05-2016, 04:41 PM (This post was last modified: 11-05-2016, 10:56 PM by Shariden.)
His smile never wavered. It was charming and contagious, and Shariden felt the corners of her own mouth pulling up slightly in response. The dark mare kept her blue eyes on his, following his gaze as he looked around the field. She listened to him talk, until something he said caught her attention and her brow furrowed slightly in confusion. "It means there is life still in Beqanna."
She stayed silent until he had finished, for she had realized over the years that you can often learn more by listening than by talking and asking prying questions. It was quiet here, she thought to herself. Quiet and a bit lonely. Although she had no way of knowing what had happened here in the past, or what it had been like, the stallions vague words hinted that it was different, once. Perhaps it was the cause of the torment in his eyes.
His smile grew slightly shy, and he motioned to his side, telling her that if she wished she could warm herself against him. She nodded gratefully, far too cold to be embarrassed at how quickly she accepted his offer. It took her a moment to get moving; her standing still for so long prevented her from realizing the extent of the chill that had settled in her bones and joints, making it slightly painful to move. Maybe playing in the waterfall hadn't been such a great idea, she thought. She made her way slowly to his side, pressing against him and greedily drawing in his body heat.
"I'm far too young to feel so old," she grumbled under her breath. The two horses were about the same height, but her traditional narrow thoroughbred build and long slender legs characterized her as far more lithe than most of the other horses she knew. She nestled into his side, and her smile grew playful and a bit sad at his words. She tugged lightly on his mane, "Come on, now. You're good for more than this," she insisted. She looked up at him, sincerity and gratitude apparent in her eyes, "Thank you, Magnus." Her breath formed a frosty cloud as the words left her mouth, hovering in the air a moment before dissipating.
He did not think twice about his offer or how quickly she accepted it. He just smiled and accepted her by his side, letting her lean into his own heat. He did not often miss the wings that had once graced his shoulders (they had been unnatural to him and had taken far too long for him to grow used to), but he did miss the ability to better warm others. There had been several times where it had come in handy—when Minette had been shivering from fear, when Amorette had been fascinated by the feathers.
And now, glancing down at the mare freezing by his side, he found himself missing them.
Still, he did the best he could with his own body heat, curling around her and giving a low laugh when she teased him. “Well, let’s see,” he mused. “I am fairly good at making young mares feel old.” He winked. “And I am not half bad at finding good conversation.” It was reassuring to know that despite all of the changes around Beqanna that you could still run across someone with a good heart and an easy smile.
“You are very welcome, Shariden.” For a moment, he relaxed into the silence between them, feeling at ease in her presence before he glanced down. “So, other than to nearly freeze to death, what brings you to the field on a day as cold as this?” One corner of his scarred mouth lifted into a crooked grin. “Unless, of course, freezing to death was your end game, in which case, why on earth would you do that?”
And with that, he simply regarded her, his gold-flecked eyes kind and curious. It seemed unlikely that she had wandered all the way out here simply to enjoy the frosty water, but you never knew.
11-15-2016, 10:02 PM (This post was last modified: 11-15-2016, 10:37 PM by Shariden.)
She closed her eyes momentarily, grateful for the body heat that continued to seep into her now thawing body. His husky laugh along with his further attempts to warm her brought a sweet smile to her lips and she giggled at his response to her jest, glad that he took it as light-hearted as she meant it.
There was a moment of silence between the two, and it surprised her that it didn't feel forced or unnatural at all, it was actually quite nice. He looked down at her and inquired as to her purpose in what he called the field, before tossing his own playful quip at her. She looked at him as though her answer was the most obvious thing in the world before saying, "I'll have you know, I make freezing to death a regular habit of mine. Why else would I be here?" She was able to hold a straight face for a beat cracking a smile and letting out a gentle string of laughter. She looked around self consciously as her laughter tapered away, and winced slightly at how isolated it sounded; as if this place hadn't heard such a carefree sound in quite a while.
"No," she corrected, "I'm definitely not here for the weather. In truth..." she dropped her eyes, embarrassed for her aimlessness, "I don't really know why I'm here. A fresh start, I suppose. Something new." She met his eyes again, and her mouth twisted into a grim half smile.
Her company was comfortable and easy, and he found himself relaxing, his gold-flecked gaze still flicking to the border but with less anxiety. The field was, for the most part, abandoned. There was no significant thread patrolling the area, and he was not overtly concerned that the pair of them could be ambushed by anyone. It was as good a time as any to let down his guard and enjoy friendly company without fret.
“Well, that is an ill-advised hobby,” he laughed, the sound of his own chuckle twining with hers so that the noise echoed around them. One day, hopefully soon, the field would once again ring with laughter from groups of horses; perhaps today was not that day, but he appreciated the thought of it. “Next time, you should consider safer options, such as diving off the closest cliff.” His eyes warmed with humor.
His expression, however, sobered slightly as she continued talking. “A fresh start?” he questioned, musing lightly. He knew the appeal in starting over—the necessity of it, in some situations. He himself had come here before to find the same thing. He had been more desperate though, trying to free himself from something, trying to outrun something that seemingly could not be outrun. “I may be able to assist you with that,” he offered, winking. “Perhaps I am indeed good for something.” He paused a second before he gave her another smile. “Would you like to hear about my home? It’s called Tephra, and it is beautiful.”
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