"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 voice had come in the middle of the night—and Magnus’ question had been answered, finally.
He had not been sleeping; instead, he had been wandering the border of Tephra, his nose swinging low to the ground, his gold-flecked eyes washing over the border and the residents who clustered around them. It was then that he had heard it. His own name in that same voice he had hear for so many months, so many years when trapped. His head had snapped up and there he had been, the voice finally manifested.
It had been a stallion, built heavily, tall and wide, his coat a deep mulberry and his eyes emerald. Magnus had snarled, the old anger rising up in his chest, but Woolf had cut him off. It would do no good to fight; he could not be hurt. It would do no good to ask questions; Woolf had no intention of answering them. But, but, the stallion had come to Magnus with an olive branch of sorts—an apology, if you will. He had explained that it did no good to have bad blood among the family and while he would not apologize for what he had done, how he had protected Magnus, he would appreciate putting the issue to rest.
And so, he came with information—with things of use for Tephra’s leader.
Once Magnus had accepted, he agreed: this knowledge was worth it.
So he had turned from the mulberry stallion, no longer furious but still cool, and took off at a brisk trot and then a gallop, searching the land for the silent mare who had been trapped within her own mind since the first moment that she had come to Tephra. The skilled diplomat who was unable to voice her thoughts; the one who strained to contribute in ways that were so difficult for her. Magnus’ heart beat steadily in his chest, hope flaring within him. It would be a benefit to Tephra to have Aranea freed from her silence, but more than that, it would be good for her—and if Magnus could help at all, he would.
When he finally found her, resting, he hesitated. Perhaps this news could wait until morning. But he, eventually, decided against it. Instead he lowered his head to her, nudging her gently.
“Wake up,” he said softly. “I have news for you.”
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
01-08-2017, 01:50 AM (This post was last modified: 01-08-2017, 01:52 AM by Aranea.)
watch this madness,colorful charade
She had done what she could. Everything in her power, at least. A kingdom visit, a trip (or two) to the field. Whether or not she had been successful in either endeavor didn't matter, at least as far as she was concerned. What mattered was that she was doing what she could - for now.
That didn't mean that she was satisfied.
Aranea yearned to give more to Tephra. The Kingdom had grown on her and she was happy to call it home. While it would never be the Valley it was beautiful in its own way and she felt a kinship with the lands that was similar to what she had known in the Valley. It was more than she had expected when she had agreed to come here. It was more than she had hoped for.
Despite all of her efforts she lay alone. While she might consider Eight her friend, and while she would like to consider Magnus one, she lay alone. It was tedious, trying to make friends without a voice to introduce herself, and Aranea had all but given up hope in that regard. Ruan was the exception. Well intentioned and kind she appreciated the company of the wolf; whether or not they could be called friends was a question she had yet to answer.
Her sleep had not been deep and so she did not mind the interruption. Aranea was quick to her feet, her body tensed and ready for whatever it was the king had to say. Her gaze slipped instinctively to their surroundings and her ears swiveled on her head, seeking to pinpoint a source while she waited for him to speak. However within moments the tenseness faded and she was at ease (no immediate threat to be found) and she studied him with immense curiosity - what news could he possibly have?
He almost feels bad when he watches her wake up, when he watches the sleep (shallow as it may have been) begin to fade from her eyes. But that quickly dissolves when he remembers why he had come to her in the first place; why he had raced to find her. He is suddenly acutely aware of his appearance, the sweat that darkened his coat in the middle of the night, the way his nostrils flared to gulp in air, the brightness to his eyes. He realized that he must look quite manic, and he did his best to calm himself for her benefit.
“I was just told something rather…incredible.”
Never mind that the news came from his captor.
Never mind that he now had to bury a hatchet he had not been quite ready to bury.
“There may be a way for you to get your voice back.” He took a step back and motioned toward the border of Tephra and the mountain that lay beyond it—the only thing that stood taller than the volcano that overshadowed all of their land. “I have a…relative,” the word pained him to admit, “named Woolf who is rather tapped into the supernatural current. He came to tell me tonight that there is a way for you to petition the faeries to receive your voice back.” Another pause, a small frown. “But there is a price.”
For magic there always was—at least that is what Woolf had said. (Magnus had been inclined to agree.)
“You will need to sacrifice one of your other powers in exchange.”
A small bargain, he thought, to be given the ability to communicate once more—but he was unsure if she would see it the same way. Still, he had to tell her. He had to at least give her the choice.
“I have been up the mountain before. I can accompany you if you’d like to go.”
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
She listened. Listened and, as the moments ticked by and the meaning of his words became clear, faced a myriad of emotions.
Her instinct, her first reaction, was joy. Bright eyes followed his gaze to the distant, towering mountain and studied it with barely restrained fascination. Yes she had flown around it, but she had never imagined that it might actually hold something of true use for her. Aranea had intended to visit and reclaim her immortality but her voice... from her recollect that would be impossible to reclaim.
Joy faded quickly to fear and she grew tense and unnerved. The faeries had given her the sight of the beast that had nearly killed her. They had prevented him from taking her life and had left her with his vision as a token of that fateful day - the day that her voice was lost. The scars on her shoulder seemed to burn in recollect and she shivered and took an unconscious step away from the mountain. Would the faeries not be angered if she tried to return their gift? Would they even allow such a trade, if they allowed her voice to be taken in the first place?
Was it even up to them?
Hesitation was clear and she looked to Magnus for a long, silent moment. Finally, though still with a significant amount of trepidation, she nodded. There was a glimmer of gratitude in her expression - his company would be more than welcome on such a journey - visible even through the fear.
He could recognize the hesitation; he could even understand it.
Although the Mountain was the key to life here for many, it was all a prison. All the gifts that had been once given so freely to the residents of Beqanna had been bled from them and then placed within the heart of the Mountain, and that is where they remained. Magnus had no gifts to be removed from him; he had nothing to be stolen, nothing to plead for. But he had been on the Mountain twice. The first time when he had awoken with the rest of Beqanna, dazed, bleeding and confused, unsure of his location. The second when he’d made the long, hazardous trek next to Offspring to petition for the land they stood on.
So he could understand why she would hesitate.
Still, he took a step toward her as she took that small step back, his breath expelling softly in reassurance as he nudged her neck softly, his gold-flecked eyes kind. “It will be okay,” his voice was warm and filled the air between them as he swung his body around so that they could be side-by-side, facing the border. “It is not a terribly long journey to the top, and I will be there next to you every step of the way.” He may not be able to do much, but he would make sure that she was safe throughout the entire trek.
Holding the hope in his heart, ignoring any fear that Woolf had been lying to him, Magnus nodded to her and then stepped forward, glancing back at her with a roguish smile. “I’m ready when you are.”
out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll
I figured you could post on the Mountain next? Or just do it OOC and we can post back here when it's done.
![[Image: gqYjsHr.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/KjqNDKxc/gqYjsHr.png)
