"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
He huffed, thoroughly grumpy at his missing magic. With a clench, he shut his eyes tightly and huffed again, willing himself to transport just a few feet, a reminder that his magic still existed.
Nothing.
He huffed again, even grumpier, and stomped his front hoof in annoyance.
Nothing, again.
With a final huff, just for good measure, he gave up.
Redirecting his attention away from himself, he glanced into the open field. It was strangely quiet. What used to be such a bustling place now was as silent as the snowflakes gently fluttering down around him. The eeriness unsettled him. It was just a reminder that something was very, very wrong with the world around him.
Determined not to let this new world frazzle him even further, he launched himself up onto his hind legs, letting his forelegs flail wildly in the crisp winter air. He tossed his head up even more upward and trumped a loud and vibrant whinny for all to hear. Unnervingly, he could only hear the echoes of his voice reflecting off the distant cliffs and nothing else. As he lands his forehooves back onto the ground, felt a shiver run through his skin.
Drawing attention to himself in such a flamboyant manner was very outside his normal persona, but strange times call for strange actions.
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
.......Dahmer had not asked to be dragged from the depths of his beloved Subway. In fact, he had been quite content living the rest of his immortal life in the dark caverns of his home, waiting for the world to end. Perhaps we will never know what has drawn the black beast from hiding, but nevertheless, he has arrived in Beqanna.
.......His black frame moves fluidly across the frosted field with heavy steps, blue eyes squinting instinctively to keep safe from falling snowflakes. The field is drab and nearly desolate, although Dahmer does not expect much else when the temperature is inching closer and closer to intolerable each day. Had he considered this before his long trek, the Thoroughbred stallion would have holed up in a dense copse of trees or even a small cave, but alas, his restlessness had gotten the best of him.
.......A sudden whinny draws Dahmer's head high. The pupils of his blue eyes narrow and his gaze shifts immediately to the source of the noise. A painted stallion stands at the opposite side of the field, his whinny still echoing through the thin air. Dahmer's ears flick backwards to sit at half-mast as he considers approaching the unknown stallion, his nostrils flaring to insure that he had not encroached on the painted one's territory. There are no predominant scents in the air, but there are many layered on top of each other, and the black stallion relaxes slightly with the knowledge that he had not accidentally sparked a battle. He would save such things for a later time.
.......Having waited a few beats, Dahmer finally decides to meander his way over to the other stallion. As he nears, confusion is evident on the painted one's face. The black beast thinks that, maybe, he can see a bit of disappointment, too. Curious.
......."Everything alright, mate?" His voice is rough and the edges of his lips turn up slightly in amusement, though Dahmer does his best to hide the laughter in his ocean blue eyes.
It was unnerving to walk around what had become a ghost town, the snow settling along the edges of it, the air crisp and biting. He still traveled here every day, regardless of how often he found it empty and voice of life. It was the only thing that he could think to do with the new shape of Beqanna. Magnus had no magic to earn back—no traits ripped from him, only his home. So, in a way, perhaps he did not mourn the reckoning in the same way that others did. He had little to lose when the ground had shook.
He, however, very much did mourn the quiet that had settled around the land.
It struck too close a chord to the own depression curling like smoke around his heart.
His thoughts, however, were disrupted by the loud call. He lifted his head quickly, ears swiveling toward the source of the noise. He could not help the way that his lips curled into a smile at the sight of the stallion pawing at the air, the way that his voice rung out across the field. It was always comforting to see signs of life like that—to see the way that he did mind drawing attention to himself.
Shaking the dust from his shoulders, Magnus moved from his spot amongst the trees and made his way toward the stallion; he was only mildly surprised to see that another beat him there. Coming to a stop near the duo, he breathed out, the plume of his rising in front of him as a reminder of the cold.
“I came to ask the same thing,” he offered, his whiskey-voice rough from the strain of the cold. He glanced at both of them, giving a crooked smile. “My name is Magnus. Bloody cold today.”
Back in another time, he was once well aware of his surroundings. Having been the quiet observant one always in the shadows, he often prided himself on his ability to quietly observe all around him. Now, although his senses still existed, he was thrown a bit off balance on their use. Somehow, he had always coupled all his senses with his magic. Or, perhaps, he actually didn’t, but just the lack of something so much a part of him his entire prior life made him start to doubt everything he heard or saw.
Thus, he found himself almost in a daze as he watched the approach of a strange black stallion. He thought he trusted his eyes, but even then, something seemed so off that he wasn’t sure whether to believe his vision or not. He squinted, perhaps even coming off as staring, as he watched the other’s approach. So unused to his new normal, he didn’t even pick up on any of the other’s carefulness nor amusement. Rather, what stood out to the painted stallion were the brilliant blue eyes of the other stallion. They were so vivid against his dark coat! Clark couldn’t possibly have just imagined that, or so he tells himself.
Luckily, the other stallion’s voice broke the silence, and Clark found himself managing a smile at the other’s reassuring words. He glanced over the stallion again, finding nothing threatening in the other. The tobiano had only little experience with herds and the ways of the males, but he wasn’t too naïve to realize two stallions together had the potential for issues. And now, especially, without his handy dandy powers, he felt especially vulnerable.
But before he could muster up a response, he spied the approach of a buckskin. Blinking quickly, he glanced between the two – the ebony to the beige and back. Suddenly realizing he must look quite the nervous wreck at this point, his lips curled in a slightly larger smile as he made a best attempt to cover up his state. He then pricked his ears forward in curiosity as he dipped his head in greeting to both.
“Hey,” he croaked soon after, but even the words felt strange coming out of his mouth. He paused for a moment, moving his tongue around his mouth in a futile attempt to rid himself of this strange feeling. Thoroughly unsuccessful, he then continued. “I’m Clark,” he offered as he glanced back to Magnus, and then back to the black stallion.
He then sighed and turned his head from side to side, using his eyes to gesture at the world around them. “Doesn’t this world feel strange to y’all?”
fate she hears me | fate stand near me | fate state clearly whether there will be another card
.......Dahmer watches as the painted one does a double take in his direction and he tilts his dark head to the side curiously. There was something strange about his newest acquaintance, though perhaps not in a negative way, despite Dahmer's inability to put a hoof on the exact point that made him... odd. A more in-depth analysis would have to wait, however, as they are joined by a buckskin who seems far more comfortable in the frosted field than either he or the now-smiling Clark.
.......The black beast can't help but smirk wider at the pair to match Clark's forced smile and Magnus's lazily lopsided grin, though the expression feels out of place on his dark lips. The Subway hadn't allowed for much socialization, and there had been no occasion that had called for smiling in his years of solitude. Dahmer could only imagine the impression he was giving the pair, standing quite stonily with an out-of-place expression, before a genuine chuckle gurgles out of him at Magnus's use of "bloody". He'd always been a fan of those who could slip that word into their vocabulary without sounding far too... haughty.
......."Dahmer." His ears flick forward as he introduces himself, a slight bob of his head following swiftly after. Blue eyes periodically moving from his new companions to survey the empty field, he registers Clark's question with a quiet hmmm before turning his gaze back to them. "Strange, how?" Perhaps delving further into Clark's inquiry would assist Dahmer in placing a hoof on the aforementioned odd point. He shifts his weight now, offering up another uncomfortable smile to the pair before pressing again, "I don't mean to be difficult... well, I've only just arrived. This place feels just as strange or un-strange to me as any other."
.......A snort escapes his flared nostrils quite suddenly as an icy squall assaults the trio. Dahmer turns his ears to furrow them in his tousled black mane, his head curling down so that his muzzle is pressed to his muscled chest.
......."Fuck," he admonishes the cold, though it sounds much more crass than Magnus's "bloody".
It had been a while since Magnus had been in a group of stallions like this. More often than not, his company was punctuated with females. As a Prince raised amongst the Amazons, he had learned an early affinity for the gentler (if warriors could be called that) sex. He gravitated toward them more frequently and rarely surrounded himself with many men, although he did not hurt for male friends. Still, he found he was comfortable in their presence, even as Clark fidgeted, looking lost and confused at…something.
Magnus’ expression grew slightly puzzled as he considered the paint, and he tilted his head in thought. When Clark finally spoke, a light bulb clicked slightly in his head, although he waited until Dahmer spoke before he chimed in. “I don’t suppose you are returning after a long absence?” his voice was still hoarse although warming, liquid tones softening the rougher edges of it. “I could see how Beqanna could seem…off if you were not here to see the Reckoning.” He shrugged, as if it had not torn the world apart.
Pausing for a moment, he glanced toward Clark before looking back to Dahmer. “The fairies grew weary of the wars and the arrogance of Beqanna citizens. She took back whatever magic had previously been gifted. For some,” he smiled briefly, “such as myself, that made little difference. For others, it gutted their very core.” Here, he looked to Clark, wondering if the stallion was indeed a returning Beqanna soul. If he had come back to find powers dissolved, stripped clean from him. “She also cleared the lands, swallowed the kingdoms of old and created new ones. It has been a strange and disjointed rebuilding process.”
This did affect him. It had affected him more than he even cared to consider. After the adrenaline had worn off and he had helped found Tephra, depression had set in, bitter and deep. He had yet to shake himself of it. “I have been lucky to find a new home,” he offered, laughing as he glanced to Dahmer.
.......In time, Dahmer had become less and less like his mother. Desole had been an integral part of his youth, maybe even the entirety of it, but the black beast knew that he had aged into his father's personality. It was better this way, though perhaps his mother would have hoped for a more controlled version of the boy. Ever the soldier, Desole the Hellhound had attempted to ingrain a sense of honor and stoicism in her son... perhaps he was a bit lax these days, erring on the side of laid-back, as his father had. He knew she'd appreciated the trait at some point, despite the tight line her lips made in disappointment these days at his indifference to all things regimented.
.......This shift in personality, from overbearing and headstrong to something much more amiable, had proven beneficial in the acquaintance department. It was much simpler to ask for the things one desires this way, when the party presented with the inquiry wasn't frightened or, you know, pissed. He tucks this thought away for later as Magnus mentions the Reckoning and draws Dahmer's attention back. His ears prick forward as another cold snort finds its way from his nostrils, the air clouding in front of his maw.
......."I suppose she got her point across," he muses quietly, blue eyes moving briefly to Clark, who had fallen silent.
.......When he looks back to Magnus, the buckskin stallion is laughing. The lazy sound is infectious, Dahmer's aversion to the cold forgottenas his own lips curl into a more natural smirk.
......."These creaky immortal bones could use some warming up, if you wouldn't mind the company."
Clark had gone quiet, to which Magnus had chalked up to the difficulty of speaking in the biting cold.
He swung his head to the black brute and his gold-flecked eyes sparked with interest. It was not often that someone volunteered to join him back home. More often than not, he had to sell them on it, which was never truly his gift. He did his best to be honest about his home and then guide them to what best suited for them. He had, before, recommended another home when he knew his was not the best for them. But that was before the earth imploded, before everything had changed. Now, he only had rumors to operate off of; he had no real way of knowing what the other lands were like. He could only tell them of his.
“I would never mind the company, if it is being offered.” He paused to glance to the painted stallion, wondering if Clark’s initial upset had eased or if he was simply masking a similar anxiety. “It is called Tephra and it is just north of here, a fairly short trek, all considering.” Another pause as he swung his head in Tephra’s direction, motioning toward it. “I must warn you that it is also home to a rather large volcano, but you get used to it. You just need to learn to step gingerly around the hotter bits.”
Clearing his throat, he took a step back. “If you would like, we can go visit it now. If it suits you, we would love to have your company.” Another look to Clark. “The invitation is open to you, as well.” He did not bother to mention that he was considered the leader of the land, since it was different from serving as its King. He was not royal and did not consider him above the rest of the land. He simply helped guide the land in its infancy and did his best to protect its inhabitants. Soon, he would pass the burden.
![[Image: gqYjsHr.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/KjqNDKxc/gqYjsHr.png)