"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
All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. - - - -
The glacier sleeps, and when it wakes it does not forget itself.
But she is the ocean, not the glacier atop it, and some days it feels she has forgotten herself. Today is one of those days.
"North," she thinks, she remembers-- "your name is North."
One thing she has not forgotten: she never much liked sunrises. She never much liked dramatic things in general. This one is isn't too bad, though. There is no promise to it. No pompous blazing horizon, no sky on fire, just a simple, humble brightening of the world. Less a declaration and more a gentle shift from one day to the next, more like the way a new day should be-- indistinct and unremarkable. Slipping into existence so easily that one rolls into the next into the next until you open your eyes, one morning, and the world is hard to recognize.
Hard but not impossible.
The mare, at once familiar and unfamiliar, stands on the ambling and dusty deer trail that courses through the Field. She knows this place, she remembers how she dreaded it once. How long ago was that? Years? Decades? She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. This too she remembers, as she inhales: she always loved winter. The smell of it, the feel of it, cold and sharp as steel. Maybe love is not the right word, but she's older now than she used to be. More generous.
She takes her time, slowly remembering herself as the last glow of sunrise fades, unremarkably, from the sky. She remembers her patience. She remembers loving a king. She remembers the ocean. The ocean! There are so many things to remember, and remembering is how she passes the time as she waits for fate to catch up to her, down the crooked deer trail.
- - - - - By morning, I had vanished at least a dozen times N O R T H Into something better
hold me in this wild, wild world 'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
He comes, from time to time, to watch. Often, they’re all the same – at least at first glance – and it’s too taxing to consider going in to wade through the noise and find the ones who aren’t the same. And he hasn’t come in some time – there was business, Kingdom business, the possibility of going to war. There was a time for mourning; though not for healing, because that hasn’t come. On top of that, there was a large period of time when he wasn’t fit for public company.
Not in control.
Now he stands at the border of the field, partially because he’s ready, and partially because he wants to make sure he’s ready, before he ends up proving that he’s not, in a more delicate situation that trying to do some recruiting. Winter is a comfortable time for the man who was a Brother of the Tundra for most of his long life; it is a welcome change from the heat of his island, heat that gathers even now in the dead of winter. Ischia is never cold; the most Brennen can hope for in his Kingdom is a cool breeze off the water.
He opens his senses, looking for nothing in particular, and meanders amongst them until he feels a tug, and follows it, uncertain what he was even looking for. Honey-brown eyes lock on the mare in front of him and he gives a little half-smile, shy almost, and walks to a comfortable speaking distance. “Hello,” he offers in his quiet drawl, and does a mental check. Control. Yes. He still has it. “I’m Brennen.”
hold me in this wild, wild world and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
howling ghosts, they reappear in mountains that are stacked with fear
The path from Tephra to the field is a well-worn one for Magnus, although his preferred path has become slightly dusty and overgrown with disuse. Still, it is easy for the golden stallion to find it once more, crossing over the lava and the streams, moving through the bramble and the foliage until the tropical bleeds away. It is a routine path, a walk he has done dozens and dozens of times before, and there should be no joy in it, but there is. Magnus has always loved to lose himself in work. He has always loved to take the time to contribute to whatever land he called home. He liked to recruit and patrol and greet.
It was part of his kingdom upbringing—
But more than that, it was, in many ways, a method for him to atone.
For all of his sins, all of his shortcomings.
Of all such duties though, Magnus has always liked recruiting. It was a responsibility and an honor that he did not take lightly. Souls came to the field when they wanted a home—when they wanted a purpose or a place to call their own or just a sanctuary. Getting to come alongside them and provide that, or guide them elsewhere if that’s what they truly needed, was always something that he enjoyed. He always would.
So joy strikes his well-worn heart today as he picks his way through the trail and to the field.
When he arrives, he breathes in the winter air, exhaling with a crooked smile. It’s then that he sees her approaching, something in her step speaking to familiarity. He tilts his head, but he cannot place her. After watching for a moment, he begins to make his way toward her, his steps casual, the sunbleached edges of his tail flicking at his scarred haunches. He, however, is not the only old soul to haunt the field today, and he smiles as Brennen approaches first. The Tundra man is not an entirely unfamiliar sight to him, and he nods in greeting as he comes to a stop, dipping his heavy-jawed head toward the mare in question.
“And I’m Magnus.” A pause as he considers her, roguish grin tilting his lips.
“What brings you to the field on this fine winter morning?”
{ and in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times }
She seeks the placidity of a colourless sunrise, in more than one way; and though my life and my appearance falls absurdly far from drama-free, that is because I make it my first priority to protect my citizens from any drama at all. There's a reason we're the only sanctuary in Beqanna - and even in light of recent tension between our nation and that of our southern neighbours, our sanctified have been completely unaffected.
Lest hell fall upon us, immortals and mortals alike, I intend to keep it that way, with Solace by my side to help me ride the waves of bullshit political turmoil.
When my eyes open, it's not to my family's grotto - where less and less of our children are staying less and less frequently - but to the field, enclosed on all sides by friendly forests. The taste of my wife's lips fades with a tantalizing slowness from my lips, leaving said features curling upwards in a secret and lavish smile. But the thoughtless and heartfelt whims of the night are behind me now, and ahead of me lies something more akin to duty than to pleasure; but to say that I don't enjoy recruiting would be a lie.
I take a deep breath. It's my first time recruiting with the scar on my face; an unsightly and disfiguring gash, from left ear to right nostril. The antlers towering above my head do little to help draw attention away from my once-shapely face; but this scar was a small price to pay for a life spent eternally with the one I love. So, blinking and readjusted my crown of Bad Ass-ery and Shamelessness, I strike out into the field, not sure of that which I seek in particular.
She's standing out of the way when I spot her, seemingly lost in some kind of trance; I extend my magic experimentally, wondering if she's dozing and in a dream which I might join her in; but no consciousness presents itself to me for manipulation, and so I do it the old fashioned way. I spot Brennen on my approach, a fellow monarch - king of the Kraken Brotherhood. I nicker softly to him in greeting, meeting his gaze and offering a wordless dip of my head such that we might focus on our recruit instead of exchanging lengthy pleasantries.
When my eyes catch on the other approaching, the smile that had been growing on my face slithers into oblivion; but it's too late for me to turn back now, and I'll be damned if any man ever stops me from performing my duties.
I swallow, drag my smile out of hell and force it, squabbling, back onto my lips. I am careful to put Brennen between Magnus and I, and do my best impression of one who has her shit together. Because I have my shit together. Because I am Bad Ass, and Shameless.
"And I'm Kagerus," I say, following just after Magnus's question. Allowing myself to escape into the presence of she who has gathered us all, my nutmeg eyes go over the mare in a not unfriendly way, studying the silver in her mane and the bend in her face which suggests anciently shared blood between us.
I glance then to the men beside me, figuring I ought to explain why there's three strangers staring at her with baited breath.
"We all come from different lands. But we'd love to hear about you before getting into the details."
All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. - - - -
There are sharks in the grass. She lets them come, a single hind leg cocked in relaxation as she appreciates the dry winter breeze on her neck. She forgets that this place is not always kind, that sometimes mares are taken by force. She forgets that despite her age, maybe even because of it, there is much to be desired beneath her skin.
(It is not enough, not enough, there is still so much to remember.)
Brennen and Magnus. They have the eyes of old men and her heart skips a beat as she remembers men that would most certainly be old now. Are those men still here, somewhere, wearing young bodies? Would she remember them on sight alone?
The second to arrive asks what brings her here and she tilts her head with a glimmer of amusement in her dark brown eyes. "Not to recruit." She could be wrong, but she does not think the purpose of this place has changed. It seems to be a constant, as old as Beqanna itself.
Another comes, and North is intrigued by the mare. Kagerus. She likes the three before her. It is not logical that she should like them, knowing nothing more than their names, but she looks to each of them and reads some of the stories in their faces and she likes them anyway. Maybe loneliness has softened her.
"My name is North." It does not sound as though she has not spoken in years. "I'm... simple." She does not know why the lie slips through her teeth, and she does not know if they will see through it or not. She should have said she wants to be simple, lead a simple life. She wants to grow old with dignity, in a place not ruled by an idiot or a jester. "The word is my weapon, not my body." But that would be obvious by the lack of any notable scars on her bay skin. "I'm a hard worker, " She trails off, unsure what else to say. Her history seems irrelevant, or maybe she just doesn't want to talk about it. "And I'm from a different time."
When she finally smiles, it is wolfish and out of place on her small frame. "What is the ocean like, in the places you call home?" Her skin itches for salt water and so this is the first thing she thinks to ask.
- - - - - By morning, I had vanished at least a dozen times N O R T H Into something better
They are not alone more than a moment – the first to join them is Magnus, and then Kagerus. They introduce themselves as well, and Kagerus tells the woman why they have approached her, though Brennen believes it might be more of a ‘remind’ than an ‘inform’; she has the air of someone who has known this place (or one like it) before. But Kag has also asked the mare to tell them about herself, and so the bay stallion settles in to listen.
North claims to be ‘simple’, but Brennen has known very few beings who are really, truly ‘simple’. Still, he says nothing to contradict her, simply giving a little tilt of his head and watching her curiously out of amber eyes. She says also that she’s a diplomat, and a hard worker; he is heartened by the clear indication that she is looking for someplace to live. But it is the mention of ‘another time’ that truly makes his heart skip a beat. He, to, is from another time, though his lack of aging means that he must claim every time at this point forward as his own time. Still, she might find a sympathetic ear with him if she ever wants to talk about the past.
A hesitation, and then an expression out of place with the rest of her behavior, indicating that this will be what she feels most strongly about. And in that moment, she asks about the ocean. He was the first to arrive, so he is the first to answer this question. “I’m from Ischia,” he offers first, “and Ischia is an island. Our ocean can be fierce, when storms whip up the tides, but it can also be deceptively calm. It protects us, but can be just as dangerous to us in storm season.” In the Tundra, the ocean had always been angry – cold and harsh, on their far banks. In Ischia, he has become fond of the water. “At night, it glows. Some sort of sea life paints the surface and our shores in blue.”
He shifts, glances at Magnus and Kagerus to see how they will respond.
I wanna give you wild love, the kind that never slows down I wanna take you high up let our hearts be the only sound
So many of them gather with the old Beqanna still stained on their coats.
It’s practically tattooed on their foreheads, their history dragged down to their very marrow. He can feel it in the back of his throat, something like nostalgia and bitter like deja vu. He could blink and be back in his actual youth—and not just this moment with the strange magic that keeps him just appearing to live forever in it. He could be there, talking to someone about the Chamber or the Gates or even the Dale, the souls of his past looming behind him larger than life. His parents, still alive. Joelle, still there.
It burns in his chest and he almost withdraws because of it.
It burns even worse when he sees Kagerus arrive.
He frowns for a moment but gives her distance, allowing her to handle this situation however she sees fit. Instead, he keeps his eyes on North, gold-flecked gaze intense beneath the tangled locks of his forelock. “I like simple, North.” He had always been a simple man. No magic to his name. No powers to call upon. It was nice to know that there were others like him still in the world, so normal in a world so not normal.
“Tephra is not quite an island, although we are surrounded by sea on all three sides. It strips through our land, making passage dangerous in some spots, but it, along with the volcano, is what makes it such a beautiful land.” Teeming with life. Bright with vegetation so thick that no horse could make passage. It was so similar to the jungle of his childhood that it sometimes made his heart ache with the wonder of it. “Even if you rest your head elsewhere, you should come visit sometime. I’d love to show you it.”
I wanna go where the lights burn low and you're only mine
10-12-2018, 09:14 PM (This post was last modified: 10-12-2018, 09:15 PM by Kagerus.)
Kagerus
{ and in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times }
My name is North, comes the mare's unassuming answer, her tone more alike to the wind in its substance than I've yet heard before. What she says next confirms my analogy, though I know for a fact that the simplicity of the wind is entirely a fabrication; those who do not delve into the secrets of the wind might find it simple. But as one who's flown and experienced the dynamics of the thermals and the whimsical nature of an ever changing and invisible current, I know her to be a liar - even if she herself doesn't know it yet.
She goes on to explain that diplomacy would suit her more than war, though she doesn't use those words exactly. I'd thought the same of myself until coming runner up in the alliance, second only to the Kraken King beside me. But something tells me that North knows herself better than I did at the time, and so I train my attention upon her next question: the ocean.
A peculiar request, but one I suspect that all three of us kingdom leaders will do our utmost to answer.
Brennen explains his kingdom's ocean as a warrior would, tactfully and with logical interest in its defensive and offensive qualities. I make a small show of surprise when he speaks of the glowing creatures who float on its surface at night; I make a note to take Solace with me there some day, to spend a romantic night walking along the blue-green lengths of the beaches with her. She'd like that.
Magnus next explain his kingdom's ocean, detailing the geography and ending with an invitation for North regardless of her home. I listen to his spiel too, though I disengage slightly to save myself from getting caught up in the way the sound of his voice leaves me spinning and anxious; but I am of-mind enough to know when it is my turn to speak, so I turn and, after a moment's deliberation, give my own oceanic answer.
"Truth be told North, Hyaline has less ocean than Ischia or Tephra - though still more than other Beqannan kingdoms. The western sea lines a fourth of our kingdom however, and the eastern a third." I pause, unsure as to whether I ought to elaborate further when she'd asked only to know of the oceans; but I can't help myself. "I would be lying if I said that it is the ocean that draws people to Hyaline, however. We are a mountainous kingdom, with many peaks in our skies - and between their towering mights, the heart of Hyaline is held. A lake, feeding into the ocean on both sides, as wide as the base of a mountain and that which defines our sanctuary kingdom. We welcome all refugees and wanderers into our boarders, hoping that the lake might lend them solace in times of need."
Meeting North's gaze, I end my speech with a gentle dip of my head, acknowledging that in the end, the choice remains entirely hers.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. - - - -
They're all very polite, almost terribly so, and they speak in turn. Brennen first. Her heart beats a little faster at the thought of the sea on all sides of her, all the time. It also makes her a little leery-- sometimes she just needs to run in a straight line, chase that horizon until her legs give out.
Magnus is second. "I like simple," he says, and she catches herself from retorting "why should I care what you like?" because it is a stupid thing to say-- because she shouldn't care, but she does, so she just stands here with her breath in her chest and her eyes ready for a fight. A blush might be spreading across her cheeks, but nobody can see it.
(my god, all she wants sometimes is to flay someone with her tongue.)
She is intrigued by the description of his home, although "volcano" has the exact opposite effect of "at night it glows" and she is uncertain she's ever seen a beautiful volcano.
Third, Kagerus. Everything in three.
North is careful with this one. Kagerus doesn't have the well-worn, downright familiar feel of Magnus (that word-- familiar-- sits like a stone in her stomach). She also does not have the reserved but straightforward nature of Brennen. She has eyes that see. North feels herself being looked at by the pied mare, and where she once would turn away from the feeling she now leans into it, looking back with her bright brown eyes in challenge. A small grin curls at her lips, wolfish and not at all simple.
It is an impossible decision to make. Brennen, Magnus, Kagerus. Even if she were to close her eyes, she would still see their faces, the look in their eyes at this exact moment. She knows it isn't technically true, but it feels this way: it feels like if she opens one door, the others are closed to her forever.
She closes her eyes for a moment. She'd rather open all the doors.
"Can I visit you all, before I decide?"
She looks first to Magnus and Kagerus with a hungry sort of sadness, and says nothing. Then she looks to Brennen. "First, I'd like to see the sea glow at night."
- - - - -
N O R T H
@Brennen @magnus @Kagerus
ooc: She's indecisive because she has crushes on everyone here ;_; Feel free to reply if you want but I guess it isn't really necessary? North is technically going to Ischia first but because liquid time (bless) I'll be posting to all three lands the next chance I get <3
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