"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 came alone on this visit, breaking from Tephra as dawn crept through the fog. While he had been bringing diplomats along with him to various other visits, this was not the first time that he was making contact with the kingdom, and he did not feel the need to make it an official venture. This was more personal, his own concern for the Amazonian woman rooted in his chest. While his initial fears had been assuaged, he still wanted (no, needed) to see the land for himself, to ensure it was what he had been told.
The journey was not a short one and for perhaps the first time, he found himself missing the awkward weight of his kingdom-given wings. While he had never longed for magic (although he was coming to appreciate the gift of immortality as it snaked through his veins), he had learned to find them useful. They certainly would have made the venture a quicker one. Still, he was not bitter about the journey. It was a good chance for him to spend time by himself. The peace of it was welcomed, and he did not hurry.
Still, it was late afternoon by the time that Sylva’s trees began to bleed away and the scent of salt permeated the air, hitting his nostrils. The texture of the land beneath his hooves changed, ever so subtly, and he felt more than saw the coast begin to appear, the tell-tale signs of the ocean calling to him. When he reached what he assumed was the border, he came to a stop, hoping he had estimated it correctly. He had only met Nayl once, but she had seemed to stick to the more traditional rules and he didn’t want to accidentally offend her protocols, even if he did so out of ignorance. He would prefer to be safe.
Raising his golden, heavy-jawed head, he let out a loose call for the Queen.
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
There had been an underlying hope that he would come. That want – that unwarranted desire – for him to see Nerine was suppressed, but upon drawing in a breath and sensing him, it surfaced. It consumes her in curiosity as her head turns away from the lull of the ocean tides toward the border where there lies a gurgling river. The acrid scent of the volcano lingers on his skin and rides the breeze to her. It claws into her nostrils, her eyes, her skin. His arrival permeates everything around her and everything she is.
”Magnus,” it’s easier to say his name when she reaches him with a face of forced steel. Her mind has been reeling, distracted, as of late. Stillwater, Lior, she muses with an exasperated sigh. But they slip away from her groping thoughts as her fiery eyes settle on the buckskin. ”We meet again,” she adds coolly as the distance between them closes. Another breath is swallowed - another drunken swig of his familiar scent – before she pivots her body to the side, opening up the expanse of her homeland to him. ”Welcome to Nerine,” the name of her herd is honeyed cocaine on her tongue, addictive and tantalizing. It had taken months for her to accept the coastline as a home. The difference of it from the Jungle is extreme and it once rattled her nerves how quickly the sisterhood diverted from their original heritage to accept this place forged by vengeful magic.
She once loathed this coast.
With a quick, sweeping motion, Nayl turns away from Magnus to observe how the sun gleams off the surface of the distant ocean and how the cliff stands sentinel. ”Come, and I’ll show you whatever you want to see.” There remains a lingering frigidity in her voice, a stoicism in her nature, but it’s warmed by the excitement to explore her home.
She is everything he had remembered Amazonian Queens begins—fierce, steely—and he finds that comforting, even though he imagines her enemies do not. She was something to behold as she walked up to him and he flicked an ear toward her, his gold-flecked eyes appraising her as she approached. It had not taken her long to find him, and he is grateful for that, his scarred mouth rising into a lopsided smile.
“Nayl,” even her name felt Amazonian in his mouth and the nostalgia twisted in his gut, memories of growing up amongst the trees and the vines. Memories of his mother’s jaguar pacing by his side, the way his mother ruled with such an iron fist. It brought a spark to his eyes as he looked at her, something alive in his belly—something that sparked and flared, dancing around the edges of his bones.
Her voice was cool but he could imagine the heat beneath it and so he didn’t cool in response, remaining that wild thing, the matted tangles of his inky hair framing his handsome face. “Indeed we do,” his voice was whiskey on his tongue, husky and rolling off his tongue. “I figured this time, I could travel to you.”
He takes a step forward, taking a moment to drink in the sight of the coast, so like and unlike the beaches of Tephra, before turning his gaze back to her, fixing her with it. “It is appropriate,” and it was. It was so very different from the jungle—open when the jungle was a dark, twisted thing—but it was also wild and tempestuous and deserving of the strong. And so he found it appropriate that they lived here.
At her prompting he took another step forward, taking his place by her side, although he did not touch her, the distance between them minimal but there. “I would very much like that,” he breathed softly, his eyes tearing away from the coast before landing on her. “Show me your favorite parts.”
A pause.
“Please.”
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
Had she known Magnus’ impression of her, Nayl would have held herself a little straighter, a little prouder. She wants only to embody past Queens, ones that had been strong and formidable. That’s the role she adopted, the one she strived for the second she stood on the battlegrounds to await Naga. Ideally, she wanted to be like the grandmother she never met. The Amazons deserve that, they deserve a powerful Queen to lead them to greatness. Her enemies will fall to their knees one day; she has none as of yet, but certainly they will crawl from the shadows and try to leech off her successes and her victories. It’s only a matter of time.
But Magnus, she doesn’t perceive to be a future enemy. He knew of the old Jungle, of its Queens and warriors. The women carved out a piece of his heart. He is a part of them as much as they are a part of him.
Perhaps, that is why she is so willing to set aside her cruelties and her frigidity. He is different from most stallions. They could have a mutual respect, a friendship, but she doesn’t yet hold her breath; nonetheless, her stony face softens just enough to crack with a feeble grin even as he edges closer to her.
”It’s different from the Jungle,” she almost seems to voice his thoughts aloud as her eyes rake across the cliffs and the coastline. ”It took me a long time to adjust to it. I loved the Jungle,” but what sister didn’t? The Jungle had wrapped its magic around each of them; it was in their blood, in their souls. ”But this has become home.” The adoration was slow to reach her, but it finally embraced her heart. It’s reflected in a hidden gleam of her eyes as they flash back and forth between Magnus and the landscape.
”Let us go,” she whispers as she guides him further into the bosom of Nerine where the rocky ledges tower high overhead and the tide roars underneath. They climb rocky trails and ascend to the tallest point where she almost stands sentinel. The wind tousles her locks as the setting sun outlines her slender body. ”I’m not sentimental,” she admits sheepishly while glancing over her shoulder to meet his gaze, ”but I often find myself here, watching everything.” Her weight shifts back and forth, forcing herself to stay comfortably in this conversation even as her thoughts trace back to her uneasiness around males. ”I hid in the Jungle. I was no one of importance. I was the grandchild of a forgotten Queen,” Echion was lost to many, but not all, ”and yet here I revel in being seen, heard, and felt.”
“Indeed, it is different,” he mused, his inky lips pressed together as his head tilted to the side. “And yet, I do not think it is too far different.” A soft laugh as he kept pace with her. “Both are as wild as the women who call them home so while vastly different in appearance, perhaps they are the same in spirit.” He considered her words for a moment. Home? At first, he had not thought it possible to find a place that would feel like home in this wild new world; everything was too new, and that newness had made him resentful at first because it had been forced upon them. They hadn’t chosen it. The new was penalty.
But, still—
He had found himself coming to appreciate the smoke that curled from the volcano, the strength of their land, the rich vegetation. He had come to love the way the land was at once wild and rough with vast openness and soft, the green plains bleeding into beaches with secret nooks and corners. “Yes, I know what you mean.” He nodded. “Tephra took some getting used to, but it has managed to become home”
At her prompting, he continued after her, his tail flicking at his haunches. She was both cold and open, and he found that fascinating, her personality a kaleidoscope of fierce and friendly. He was quiet as they made their journey, but his mind was not. He soaked everything in—from the narrow paths to the roaring of the tides to the silent, deadly edge of their Queen. When they reached the crevice, he paused, giving them enough space although he was used to closeness. He enjoyed casual touch, the comfort of a brush against the neck, the friendliness of an embrace, but he felt that she perhaps would not enjoy it as much.
And thus he respected that with distance.
“I have a feeling you were never someone of no importance, Nayl.”
His smile was charming but genuine. “Someone of no importance could certainly not lead the Amazons or carve out a kingdom here the way that you have.” He didn’t believe in falsehoods or false praise, but he would have to be blind to not see that she was strategically positioning Nerine to be a major player on the diplomatic map. He could respect the shrewdness in her eyes, the calculated behavior. “Regardless, I am glad you are being seen, heard,” he paused, one corner of his scarred mouth rising, “felt.”
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
His smiles don’t escape her. There is an easiness to them that lulls her tension away. Her nature is to be cold and fierce, but she has been playing with fire lately.
Or maybe she is weakening. Is 20 years alone too long? Is it finally eating away at her skin and settling into the heart that she has spent a lifetime protecting?
She is too afraid – too stubborn – to perhaps love, but the curiosity is burning inside to know what it is like to touch and to curl herself into a man. When she glances sideways to him, she notices how he inches closer, but never reaches. It’s in their nature to touch and yet she has a natural deterrent that has preserved her skin, shielded her from everyone she ever knew.
”Felt,” she echoes as it hangs lavishly from his lips. An airy chuckle burns her throat. ”Not in any way you may think,” her reply is awkward and her body shifts underneath his eyes, briefly curling inside herself as she looks away again to stare at the surrounding dunes that act as guardians to their western border. Her mind clumsily fumbles for another answer, another save, but all she can mutter is, ”I will have no legacy at this rate.” Then silence. It holds steadily for a long, painful moment as she draws in more of the salty air.
When she is able to look at him, her fiery eyes curtained behind her forelock, she scrambles for her composure and desperately latches onto it. A stillness creeps along her body as she regards his statement (compliment), remembering when Beqanna was recreated and when they had nothing. Nerine was not yet built and she searched tirelessly for the sisterhood, but she hadn’t been rewarded then. They looked at her as they would an ignorant child. They disregarded her until she finally stepped out from the shadows. Only then did she carve her name into their flesh and into their memories and into the soul of Beqanna. Only then did she escape the overbearing shadow of her mother and grandmother. It wasn’t easy, but it was easier than she anticipated.
”I stole the crown,” she finally admits with a heavy sigh of air, ”or, well, won it, I suppose.” Her shoulders ripple in a nonchalant shrug. ”I took what I wanted by challenging the original Queen of Nerine.” The battle had been feverish but brief as two powers collided, titans rumbling the world, but Nayl quickly became the victor and sauntered home with a smug confidence building in her step (but the simplicity of the victory made it taste slightly bitter). ”I’m not afraid to take what I want, I suppose.” A lopsided grin as the ferocity of her voice returns, the sheepishness from minutes prior quickly melting away.
A dip of her head is meant to usher and guide Magnus down the foreboding path along the Cliffside. Rocks and pebbles tumble around their legs before finding rest as the bottom of a ledge. The footing is questionable and Nayl’s steps meticulous, but it leads them to the shore.
The waves calmly lap at the sand while the seagulls squawk overhead. Behind them lies the cave mouths that so many seek refuge within. Nayl spares them a glance, but nothing more, as her attention first seeks Magnus then the glimmering ocean. ”Tell me your story, Magnus. I know yours is more interesting than mine.” Because hers has only just truly begun.
Nayl
covet and myrina's creation
lmao as Nayl gets all awkward for a moment there xD
She grew uncomfortable under his teasing and although he may at chuckled at the way she squirmed, he kept the laughter at bay, his gold-flecked eyes kind as he considered her. “You are young enough,” he said with a roll of his scarred shoulders. “You have time for legacies, Nayl. Right now you are building your own with your blood and the strength of your back.” His voice dropped as he tilted his head to the side.
“Everything in due time. Anything else and you will regret it.”
He, of course, had no idea of knowing just what kept her from the heat of a man or the love of a child; he had no way of knowing why she barricaded herself behind self-imposed walls, the coldness of her eyes enough to ward off any man. He simply knew that to be rushed into something because you felt you had to, because you felt it was your time, was always a mistake. She did not need a child to prove her worth.
He did, however, laugh a little at her confession. “I do not believe you are the first Amazonian Queen to sit with a stolen crown upon your head and not likely to be the last.” They were a fierce tribe and not one that tolerated weakness. “If you were able to steal the crown then it now rests in worthy hands.” Not that he thought ill of whoever wore it before, but it was just the facts. The Amazons needed to be led by someone fierce, someone strong—and if Nayl proved herself that way in battle, then all was well.
At the dip of her head, he follows, his step sure as he walks the twisting path to the shore, the waves in the distance rumbling but then sliding gently up the dunes. “I have many stories, Nayl,” his eyes glinted behind the ink of his forelock, his smile roguish. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that.”
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
The chuckle that escapes her is light-hearted. It contrasts with the fire in her eyes and the ice that frequently coats her voice. ”I fooled you then,” she admits as she turns to look at him after they’ve already made their descent to the shore. Oftentimes she forgets the immortality that has preserved her youth, forgetting how many years have actually passed since she was but a foal scrambling around in the Jungle. The memories still play back in a focus so clear that it’s like it happened yesterday. She can still hear the low growls of the jaguars and the singing of the birds high in the canopy. Her trails had often been littered with vines and flowers of every color. It was beautiful there, and it was home. She had family and a sense of sisterhood that still remains unmatched. ”Twenty years,” she says while in a trance state of memory, ”I’m twenty.” To admit it is almost a folly. She should have let him believe her young, but she couldn’t lie, either.
”What they find most surprising is that I’m twenty without a child and without even having been touched by a stallion,” she doesn’t tell him this for his pity or for him to pull her into his side. She tells him for the moment of openness and vulnerability that she has eluded time and time again. Her thoughts, her stories, her everything has always been locked behind a cage that no force could ever penetrate. Her entire life has been spent alone while avoiding vulnerabilities and closeness with others. Her mind was protected and so she battled hard to protect her body as well.
An amused lift of her brow addresses him as she contemplates the victory that led her to the throne. She could agree with him and pat herself on the shoulder and coddle her ego, but instead, she is quiet and soaks in the whiskey tones of his voice as though they were the lullaby of the sea. The easiness of his nature settles across her in waves, chiseling away at the ice and stone that has so often shielded and protected her. She isn’t tense, she isn’t fighting, she isn’t brimming with anger; she simply is.
A gentle sea breeze tousles her forelock as she regards the smooth laughter that swells from his core. ”Hmmm…” she actually considers him more carefully as her eyes rove across his battle scars. ”I’m assuming you were – are – a soldier. So, in the old Beqanna, before all of this, where did you find to be most like a home; not all the places you lived, but the one place that forever holds your heart. And the one you would always fight with your soul for?”
“Ah, well, then forgive me.” His gold-flecked eyes widened in mock surprise. “I see now you are indeed rather old,” he reached forward and sniffed, but didn’t touch, before drawing back, his expression twisting into disgust. “You smell of dust and mold, Nayl. Do the Amazons not extend the courtesy of warning their visitors that their Queen practically rots on the throne?” He laughed then, the sound husky and warm as the teasing brightened his expression, his smile genuine. She was turning out to be quite an interesting companion—the ice melting just slightly, allowing him to see the warm, friendly woman beneath it.
“Forgive me for the teasing. 20 still seems rather young to me.” Despite the youth that clung deceptively to his body, decades had passed since his birth. It was hard to imagine that 20 years was considered old—that it was considered past her prime. Still, his expression grew mildly puzzled at her confession and then softened into understanding. “I do not find that strange at all.” He glanced out for a moment to the ocean that roared around them, the white-caps visible as they collided against the cliffs, the very same waves crawling meekly onto the shore. “I just think you’re waiting for one worthy of the honor.”
When his gold-flecked eyes moved back to find hers, they were kind. “When you finally find someone to share that piece of you with, you’ll be glad you waited.” He was certain of it; he was certain she would find someone who made it easy to open up, someone for whom she blossomed. It wouldn’t be a struggle, and it wouldn’t be painful—it would be as easy and right as breathing, as easy as drawing air into lungs.
Still, he allowed the conversation to shift, rolling battle-worn shoulders. “Is it that obvious?” He winked a little and glanced down to the puckered flesh, the hide that barely covered the criss cross of scars. Her question was an interesting one though, and he gave it his full attention, musing over it. “That is difficult because I have indeed called many places my home—and I fear my answer is two-fold.” Another rogue smile that pulled his corners up crookedly. “The Jungle was—will,” he corrected, “forever be the home of my heart. I will love nothing the way that I loved its tangled vines, the humid air, its warrior women. It felt like home in that I could put down my armor, in that I could be myself. It molded to me.”
A pause as he frowned, considering. “But I gave my soul to the Gates. Despite the fact that I never truly belonged—despite the fact that some of my worst mistakes, my worst memories were rooted there. It never mattered. My life took me there time and time again, and I forfeit my soul for her long ago.”
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
He triggers a laugh form her that she has not heard in years. The ice around her heart melts just a little more, her face brightening underneath his gaze and humor. ”What they don’t know won’t kill them,” no one knows the truth of her age, except not Magnus. She has never boasted the immortality that courses through her veins or repels the signs of aging. No one has pieced together how young she was in the Jungle versus how youthful she appears over a decade later. ”At least I make the throne look good,” she jests with a casual toss of her head. Somehow, Magnus has been able to see a side that no one has before. The amiability that resonates from her is a cherished rarity that even she struggles to grasp and understand in these moments as they stare curiously out across the ocean.
”If 20 still seems young to you then I can only imagine how many years you have seen in this life?” Nayl almost doesn’t expect an answer, letting the words suspend idly between them, but the curiosity rings in the tone of her voice as she realizes that he, too, is enveloped by the same immortality that saves her from an impending death. Somehow, she finds reassurance in the realization she isn’t alone, and that together they can watch the world turn and change around them. Decades from now, she thinks, they could cross paths again with the same youthful glint in their eyes but with far more wisdom than they already have. It’s a reassuring thought, really, that perhaps there will be someone that doesn’t die or wither away like so many others that she has known.
Finding comfort in this – in him – Nayl sighs easily and pleasurably with eyes lit by both memories and thoughts of the future. She listens closely to Magnus, her attention never straying although her gaze rarely tips away from the rolling waves. The snippets of his past fascinate her and she latches onto the bits of his life that she can, hoarding them away deep in the crevices of her fortified mind. ”You have good taste if your first love is the Jungle,” the smile slips easily across her face this time, the gesture becoming more familiar as they stand with the sun settling across their backs. ”I can’t imagine you’ve made many mistakes, Magnus. We all make them – it’s life – but we learn from them. I doubt yours were so huge or your memories so dark.” She pauses as she draws in the salty air, relaxed by the sounds of the waves and the metronome of his breaths next to her. ”You at least seem content with your life now and where it has led you.”
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