"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
A year. To think that each season had changed since Hestia's passing left Scorch's stomach knotted and writhing. She'd not done much with her crown, nor had she intended to - a placeholder, a name and face that could be relied upon to stitch together two fabrics that would otherwise never mesh. Transitional periods were often ones of quiet, of lulls, but she'd tried her best not to allow this to happen.
Now, it was time for her to end the transitional period; a lull was threatening to overtake them, its shadow looming higher and higher with each rise of the sun as Scorch procrastinated the inevitable. But as the summer lilted and began to whisper of autumn, the once and current Queen made her move. With a strange combination of sickness and comfort in the knowledge that time would go on as it always had, the mutilated woman made her way to the clearing below the great oak - the exact place where she'd first joined Nerine, on the day of Hestia's ascension to the throne.
She came alone this morning, the air crisp and salty against her hairless skin. Though Hestoni had elected to accompany her, she'd quietly excused herself from his presence, preferring to make the journey to this northern point alone. He'd understood, of course, and of course, he would be there perhaps first, trailing after her at a respectable distance. For now, she put him out of her mind, calling quietly in her mind to the mare who'd been the reason for every event in Scorch's life, even until now.
I am passing on the crown, Hestia, she said. As you should, Scorch. Came her deceased loved one's voice, clear as day an yet completely unobtainable in this reality. Thank you for watching Nerine; thank you for everything.
Finding herself beneath the oak tree as this exchange ended, Scorch shook out what remained of her mane - which wasn't much at all - before lifting her hammer head and issuing a call for the Leviathans.
They came slowly, or perhaps quickly; but in the end, they came, and she was glad to see their faces. She spoke not until as many as could be hoped for had arrived, preferring to simply nod to those she knew and to smile warmly at those she didn't. When one particular face appeared in the crowd, that smile grew. Clearing her throat to hush the quiet chattering that had started up along the outskirts of the attendees, she took a step forward into the light.
"Thank you all for coming," she said, projecting her voice to the very edges of the clearing. "I'll keep it short and sweet. For my last act as Queen, I will be promoting Breckin to the role of Advisor. She has brought in new recruits and thrown herself at diplomacy, and she is a good friend to me whose wisdom is not missed." Here she paused, looking for the leopard mare with an easy smile. "We will be sharing the title, though she will take on the role of head of peace whereas I will remain more of a council to the Queen."
"Speaking of which - a year has passed since Hestia's departure from this life, and although it has been my pleasure to lead you, it is undeniably time for the inevitable to occur. So, without further ado, it is my pleasure to announce Wishbone - Queen of the Leviathans." Stepping back from her place atop the small cleft beneath the oak, she pressed her nose against Wishbone as they passed one another, sharing with her a significant look of solidarity and belief.
Without waiting around, she slithered through the crowd until at last she found herself at Hestoni's side. Though she knew that he would be a little chapped about her return to second in command, what with him finding her Queenship sexy and all, she knew that even more than that, he would be by her side forever. Leaning against him, she breathed him in to help ground herself before lifting her head from the curve of his shoulder, perking her ears to catch what the young three year old Queen would have to say for herself.
i fell like a dreamer for sweet tea and lemonade; it clings to my t-shirt it’s loud and it lingers, designed to suffocate. i light up to find what i’ve known all this time, there’s some beauty here yet
She sleeps deeply, dreams tossing themselves against the walls of her mind like the waves that crash upon the granite shoreline of Nerine. They twist between memories and hazy make-believe; her father swims like a wispy ghost, her brother’s words (“Queens are queens the moment they are born…”) echo in her ears, the sulfur of Tephra marries the salt-spray of Nerine. When she wakes, the summer morning is brisk and untamed and Nerine seems just as deliriously wild as its future queen.
The cry that rides on the breeze is intangible in whether it will be Wishbone’s condemnation or salvation. She runs toward it either way, long legs stretching across the expanse of the shore and tangled mane rolling against her slender shoulders. She will always be running recklessly into each adventure the world gives her — becoming the queen of Nerine is no different (perhaps it should be, but her mind does not perceive it that way).
She arrives with the wind dancing in her dark mane and the smell of hazy summer beach on her mahogany skin. Despite her run, only minimal sweat dampens her sides; the endurance of her breed and the training from Scorch has brought good fortune for her stamina. Wishbone finds her place beside the hairless queen, amber eyes watching as each Leviathan slides into the shade beneath the great oak.
Her heart quickens at the sound of Scorch’s voice calming the chatter that rises from the Leviathans. The world seems to slow around her — the clouds moving slower, the tall summer grasses bending softer, the cry of a hawk above their heads echoing longer — and Wishbone bites her tongue in anticipation. But first Breckin is named Advisor over the peace caste and a sincere, pleased smile finds Wishbone’s sable mouth. She had been with the leopard mare when they visited Hyaline and her skills had not disappointed.
The roles are still shifting, even after Breckin’s promotion, and soon Scorch is stepping down from the cleft and making room for Wishbone to rise. Her initial step is shaky, but the ones that follow are as bold as the girl has ever been. The summer breeze, smelling of salt-spray and bitter rock, tousles with her mane as if Nerine’s fingers comb through her tangled locks. When her feet come to a stop upon the inclination, Wishbone feels the sudden sense of completion.
Everything slides into perfect place.
“Thank you, Scorch, for your continued service and dedication.” Her amber eyes find the retreating body of the hairless mare, a playful smile winding across her mouth. “I know I’m young,” she begins, and her eyes are scanning the crowd now to lock gazes with each Leviathan that is gathered, “but I love this kingdom and those who reside in it. It is my desire to uphold the creed we have crafted for ourselves — we did, we can, we will.” The words slide easily (so well she is almost surprised by them) from her honey-whiskey voice. “I am not an unfriendly face and I urge you to visit me if you have any questions or want to get to know your queen better.
“My first order of business is to eliminate the spy caste. I believe its responsibilities, although useful for specific situations, tie up Leviathans that are better-suited for other duties.” Wishbone pauses now, knowing that her first movement as queen is a bold one. To remove an entire caste from their system is not something to be taken lightly, but she has already thought things over. Her amber eyes scan the crowd again, gauging their reactions to this decision. “For those of you participating in the spy system, I still want you here in Nerine and I urge you to decide where you might like to be placed otherwise.” A wild smile catches on her mouth, as powerful as the waves upon the granite cliffs and as reckless as the thunderstorms that arrive with no forewarning.
“I also want to instate an initiation process for new recruits who might wish to become Leviathans. We are strong and powerful, but there should be a way to test who can truly become a Leviathan. Loyalty was an important quality for the Amazons of the Old and I believe that should carry over into the future.” It might be a process, finding a way to weed out the weak from the strong, but Wishbone is certain they will be able to do so. “If anyone has suggestions, please voice them.”
She pauses for a moment, allowing their voices to rise and locking away their ideas and comments for further dissection. Then, her honey-whiskey voice rides upon the Nerinian breeze once more. “The rulers of our allies — Tephra, Ischia, and Hyaline — will be meeting soon, so we do not need to make political visits to their borders. Just as well, I do not believe it is important to tell our enemies, Loess and Sylva, of the changes within our kingdom. However, if any of you think it is necessary, you are allowed to volunteer as long as you take a trained soldier with you. I don’t want to risk capture just to boast about my crown.”
With that, she falls quiet for a moment, the thrill of the crown upon her head thrumming electricity through the marrow of her bones and the blood of her veins.
credit to eliza of adoxography.
hi, everyone! i'm super excited for all the big changes happening and i hope you all are too! here's a brief summary of what's in this post:
— wish wants to get to know all of you so please please please talk to her!! you don't have to ask me beforehand, just make sure to tag wishbone in the starter <3
— the spy caste will be eliminated from the caste system. if you have a character in the spy caste, please let me know which caste you would like them put into
— i'm gathering ideas for an initiation process! this was something the old amazons did... we could have a chant over the new recruits (like what happened in the jungle) when they gathered for meetings, there could be physical tests, we could have interrogations, scarring ceremonies, whatever you guys think up! please let me know your ideas and i'll put them together into something unique for the leviathans!
— because the leaders of nerine's allies will all be meeting together soon, we're off the hook for spreading the news... if any of you want to deliver the leadership change to loess or sylva, you're welcome to volunteer just please take a buddy with you, preferably someone who has some fighting experience
— this is a mandatory kingdom meeting. you're welcome to reply with a whole-ass post or something shorter, but please put something up so i know who's here and who's inactive to update the boards. please please please offer your suggestions for the things listed! if your character doesn't show up to the meeting, i'll be marking them on the board and if they don't post anything within the kingdom for two weeks following the meeting, they will be demoted or taken off the board.
A year or even two changes everything. The passing of crown had almost become a yearly thing in Nerine. Maybe, it was the same for the other kingdoms as well though. Change was good as it brought in new ideas or new life to something that was stagnant. A queen had passed. Ard had no idea. He had not been to the kingdom meetings for the past two years. The white stag hid himself away in his secret place. Death brought new blood and with that new blood came changes. Scorch had taken up the crown while he had hidden himself. Hestia had passed away it seemed.
He could not shed any tears in honesty though. He had not known the queen well and he knew Scorch even less. Ardashir had at least gotten off his fat ass and walked to where they had all been called. As he had walked he thought about the times he had tried to recruit for Nerine, and the times he had tried to set up some mock battles as well. He had failed both of these tasks. He had gone on a diplomatic mission as well. He was not sure he had failed at the last one though. He rolled his shoulders letting the past roll off him almost like it was beads of rain. The stallion positioned himself in the back of those gathered. He did not want to brush up against them, did not want to touch them. He wanted his space for now and he stood away from the closest of them. He listened to Scorch speak and simply nodded his head in a courtesy reaction. A changing of the guard again.
The bay filly Wishbone then took up the crown. The stallion had met Wishbone in the spring. The three year old now was queen of Nerine. Ard adding a polite stomp and drag of his front leg leg a couple times in an equine way of clapping. He listened to what she was going to add to the kingdom, and what she was going to remove from the kingdom. Ardashir was not a spy heck, he was not even a warrior anymore. He had been in the trainee branch for a while now and, was not keen on moving up. He would be happy just to slip back into the background once more. The white stag was loyal to his kingdom though and if called he would come to the aid of anyone who requested his help.
A new queen, and new ideas. The seasons changed yes but, some things never did.
The blue in an ocean of gray..
You’ve mistaken the stars reflected on the surface of the lake at night for the heavens.
Breckin is here! Thank you for the promotion! She can't wait to get to know Wishbone and everyone else better! If I have time I would love to write an actual reply, but just wanted to get something up for now. <3
The words of Scorch reach his ears, and though many Nerinians have gathered in this place, his bright gaze remains fully on his daughter. Perhaps the others knew who he was, and maybe cared not for the idea of a once-Tephran becoming their new queen, or were idly perturbed by the fact that the King of the volcano himself has come to watch it unfold; but he did not care. Not only is here for his own daughter, but an act of good faith towards Nerine and her Leviathans - Tephra is a steady kingdom and will be present (even more so, now) as an ally.
Beside him, he can feel Wound’s presence - comforting, unwavering - and he wonders if she too feels the swell of pride that he himself can feel billowing within his chest, threatening to spill over. He knew why they were meeting, and why he was invited. It is her coronation day and he would not have missed it for the world. With the darkness that has somehow found its way back into his mind as of late, being in Nerine and focusing solely on the wellbeing of Wishbone and her accomplishments were a welcome distraction. The wolf howls at the door, but he can barely hear it over Scorch’s affirmations.
The Overseer smiles fondly as the attention shifts to Wishbone, and he can feel the soft press of a smile into the sleekness of his auburn neck from Wound. Perhaps there are tears in her eyes that match the sparkling glassiness of his own, but he does not turn to her yet. Blue-tipped ears prick forward, listening to Wishbone’s first declaration as their new Queen.
She is bold and vivid, a commanding presence that has captured all eyes and ears. Perhaps the chalice of leadership runs in their blood, just as Solace had taken the cup so now has Wishbone. His daughters are strong and resilient, meant to bear the heavy weight of the crown with grace and poise. He is not at all surprised at the course which Wishbone takes, or the fact that she has no reservations about doing so.
As her first address comes to an end, he notices the way she blossoms beneath her new crown, his face soft with adoration. A smile finds the cobalt of his lips, nodding his head in acknowledgement to her decrees.Welcome to the throne, he murmurs internally, dipping his head low for the new Queen of the Leviathans.
The call rides upon the wind, reaching Vi’s ears as she listens to the jovial sounds of her son at play. Distractedly, her head follows the easily recognizable tone of her mother towards the direction of it’s origin. Change was upon them and the blind mare sensed the weight of it. Her body braced against the unknow, feeling the weight of it as it clung to her hungrily. There was much about her newfound existence there that left too many questions and gave birth to too many insecurities. She was unsure of her place among them. So many of the Leviathans were assured in their positions there, whilst Vi served no caste and relied almost too heavily upon the help of others. Scorch, as queen, had been understanding of her daughter’s plight, especially as the blind mare struggled to relearn the new version of Beqanna. There was no guarantee, however, that another would be quite so lenient.
With a heavy sigh, she cast her blank milky gaze back towards Drustan. “Come along son,” she beckoned, hearing his movements halted in response.
Trusting that he would he would follow her, she started off tentatively in the direction of the gathering. Tuned in to his guidance, they arrived just in time for Scorch’s speech. Standing slightly away from the others, Vi listened nervously as her mother dolled out her promotions and named Wishbone and Nerine’s new queen. The blue roan mare had not yet met the one-time Tephran, and it seemed odd that one born in Nerine had not succeeded the throne. Once again, Vi was reminded by how much had changed since she’d returned. She had no other choice but to trust in her mother’s judgement.
Hearing Scorch leave her place at the front of the gathering, Vi listened to the sound of her hoof-falls as they came to rest a short distance away. Uncomfortable by the large group, the blind mare weaved her way through them the best that she could to find herself comfortably beside her parents. Searching for consolation she leaned her perpetually sore body against that of Scorch’s strong one, finding comfort in the feel of her flesh. She knew that, not matter what, her parents would always be there for her.
If the tension in her body doesn’t tell enough, the heavy sigh surely does. Drustan is not oblivious to his mother’s insecurity and hesitance. She does not show them always, especially when it is just the two of them Vi seems content and happy. He does like those moments too, happy to have her whole attention focussed on him. He knows she follows his each and every movement through sound only, having long ago learned to not stray too far from her side. That, however, does not mean he does not indulge himself in mischief, knowing damn well she cannot see him. And Dru always makes sure that Vi is his only witness.
“Where to?” he asks, abruptly stopping whatever he was doing. His blue eyes find her, and his dark ears flick forward as his horned head rises ever so slightly. Soon his eyes narrow, and lips press into a thin line. Today, again, his mother does not seem happy and content. Even as a child, he cannot help but to wonder.
He gallops to catch up, rearing at her flank with his hooves reaching the top of her hindquarters. It is an attempt to distract her, to make her smile again, and forget whatever that keeps her busy that is not him. “Mooooom?” he whines, slightly sulking as she has yet to answer him. Drustan does not like it to be ignored. As he walks alongside the blue roan colt keeps jumping up, bumping his shoulder gently into her side, and then trotting a few steps ahead as his fluffy black tail is lifted into the air. He glances back across his shoulder, if she could only see him.
It is only when the gathered group of equines come into view that he hurries right back to Vi’s side. He does not know if he should give in to his curiosity – so many new faces, and yet nobody is paying him any mind – or if the annoyance is getting the upper hand. His mother, who is basically his whole world, is clearly not comfortable. Drustan stands pressed against her chest during the time they stand still, listening to his grandmother speak. Or, in Dru’s case, not really listening. Instead he is both curiously looking around with forward tipped ears and glaring at whoever might meet his blue gaze.
Only when Vi starts moving he notices that his grandmother is done speaking. He bounces next to her as they make their way over to their family, prancing the last part towards them ahead of her. He nickers – probably louder than what is polite as Wishbone is speaking – a greeting at them. First a nuzzle is shared with Scorch, then he playfully rears up in an attempt to nip at the side of Hestoni’s mouth.
As his mother settles against his grandmother’s side, his blue eyes find first Scorch, then Hestoni’s, expectantly. Since the last time he saw them, his horns have grown. They are a couple of centimetres long, and still far from reaching their final length. “What’s happening?” Obviously, he had not been paying attention at all.
Nataliya answers the call as soon as she can, cantering from where she was walking along Nerine's beaches to the clearing with the oak tree. She listens attentively, dark ears focused on Scorch's words. She arrived only recently, so she knows little of Nerine's history. A year ago, Hestia died, Scorch started leading the Leviathans, and now she's passing it to Wishbone. Is it normal for leadership to change so frequently? Although Nataliya is sure there are other horses who grieved for the deceased Queen Hestia, she can't bring herself to feel any more than sympathy for the horses who cared. She barely knows anything about Hestia, so she has no reason to be sad.
There is one change that Nataliya actually feels something about - Breckin's promotion to advisor. The spotted mare had been friendly with Nataliya in the Field, and she thought Breckin was a wonderful mare. She knows the other changes will affect her, but she's new and doesn't know what the old Nerine was like, so she can't really compare things.
The new queen, Wishbone, sounds like she's making some major changes. Nataliya isn't sure what to think about the initiation process she's talking about, but the other horses here don't seem like they want to protest, so she's willing to put aside her doubts. Besides, there isn't enough information for her to start judging Wishbone's decisions. And who is she to do so, anyway, when she's only just become a resident?
OOC: Sorry this sucks but I wanted to get something up before I leave.
06-08-2018, 10:21 AM (This post was last modified: 06-10-2018, 07:00 AM by Tähti.)
Tähti
The dusty grey of her coat mingles less easily with the dark but more and more with the grey sand of Nerine. She fits in here, she figures, and when Scorch calls them together she is not surprised, but rather trots leisurely towards the meeting place. Like last time, changes in rulers are to take place, although she flicks her ear when she hears the old bald mare say it’s been a year. Tähti didn’t think it had been that long, although she had honestly already thought that Wishbone could have taken over sooner, her training partner was always far more advanced than the now-yearling filly.
She remembers Hestia only vaguely as the slightly snippy black mare who had been accompanied by a demonlike horse back when she had arrived and perhaps she had died sooner after that than Scorch had announced it, which might make sense if she did not want the queen’s death to upset the Nerinians just around the time the brotherhood was being instilled.
But honestly the black-winged girl doesn’t really care about politics and this is why Wishbone will always be the better of the two of them no matter their age or experience. She dips her head to whatever promotions took place, and lingers to the edges. She spies a familiar-looking but slightly different-smelling colt nearby, too, wondering where he came from because shes’s quite sure she’s seen him somewhere before but can’t place him. He’s not a resident, that’s for sure.
More words are being said and the filly is not listening very well. She’s planning on continuing her warrior training, but for which kingdom - Hyaline or Nerine - she’s not sure yet. She takes in the other residents and notes that she doesn’t know all of them by far. Hmm. Maybe she should have tagged along with Wishbone more often. She seems to have a nack for meeting people.
we are Stars, wrapped in skin the Light you are searching has always been Within
How much longer he can keep up his visits here without Arthas addressing them isn’t really on Wolfbane’s mind while he flies eagerly North. Hardly a night passes without the dark twist of a certain honeyed lips to greet him, so even Arthas could hardly blame the new lieutenant a visit to placate those very same dreams. He reasons that if his King could only meet her, see the way she wears her strength much like him, (without the use of superfluous magic) then there wouldn’t be as much shine to the Sylvia alliance as there might have been.
Even when he drifts through Tephra’s borders and grounds to mingle among the rest, the gold-and-blue striped stallion is hard pressed to say he isn’t enchanted by the general atmosphere this event was giving off. With so much oddity coming out of the ‘haunted’ forest, it was nice to be witness to the bright lives Wishbone had already touched; himself and apparently her father, Warrick, too. Bane finds himself looking up towards her with the same sort of pride, enjoying every moment of the long-anticipated crowning.
Wishbone looks achingly beautiful, and fiercely the daughter one would come to expect from the Tephran Monarch. It was marveling to watch her ascend, so instantly certain and aware of her responsibilities. Inside of himself, though, Bane felt something bittersweet at this perfect scene. The freshly anointed Nerinian Queen was saying things like enemies and Loess in the same sentence. Things that made his ears burn and his spine suddenly go rigid from tension.
He ground it away. Being invited certainly gave him a pass and so for the remainder of her day Wolfbane enjoys himself and humors the bright young Queen, all for the benefit of Wishbone’s happiness and, admittedly, his own.