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    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


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    [private]  slung low in the highlands; leander
    #1

    After decades underwater, Icicle Isle rose again from the sea, bringing her liquified atoms to the surface. Some froze in mounds of snow, others were layered in ice – but seasons are wont to change, and all too soon the thaw began.

    Drip, drip, drip.

    Slowly, her atoms find one another in small rivulets that stream into one.
    They come together again.

    She is remade – an ice sculpture in reverse.

    When she blinks, the memories return in a flood, and suddenly all signs of spring vanish from the vicinity. She unleashes the winter that had been entombed within her divided atoms, atoms that had been suspended in the ocean for all this time. Catharsis. She had once been scared, and meek, and soft beneath the ice that armors her gold-and-white frame. Perhaps that had been who she was – but that was before.

    She would never be weak again.

    The storm of sleet and wind creates dark twists about her, blotting out the skies, dropping the temperatures dangerously low for any warm-blooded creature that might happen to be nearby. But her blood? It wasn’t warm. While she yet walked this earth, her blood would never be warm again.

    Not only had she spent the past decades suspended in water – she had been suspended in time. Thus, she looks exactly as she did before she had melted away. Slowly, her bones recall movement – and she moves away from the shoreline of her resurrection.

    She doesn’t look back.

    Eventually, there came a meadow. Prior to her arrival, it had been in the throes of spring; but when she steps into the clearing, the dark winter storm follows in her wake. Had she not seen the form lying in a drift of snow, she might have killed him with the cold – but when she glances over, her light blue eyes glimpse the body; was he asleep? For a moment, she considers simply moving past him.

    Was this fate?

    Absent-minded curiosity drives her to approach the stilled figure. As she nears, she inhales sharply. Dad? But no – this stallion had wings, and Riagan was dead. Stupid. Her nostrils flare as she exhales slowly, her breath rising in a cloud of frost about her as she processes the shock of half-recognition. Closer.

    She comes to stand over him. Was she imagining her father’s coloring on him? She lowers her dished head, closer still. Wasn’t that her mother’s starry brow? The blonde of his mane and tail are encrusted by ice. Had she done that? But the ice remains even when she lets the biting cold subside. She inspects him with crisp blue eyes a moment longer before pushing him, hard, in the ribs. “Who are you?” She demands.

    But as his kind brown eyes flutter open, suddenly –
    She knew.

    “Leander?”

    kora

    vanished winterchild of riagan and rayelle

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    #2

    The last thing he remembered was choosing the left-hand path – coming to a shoreline – succumbing to exhaustion. The next thing he knew was the hard shove that wakes him. Blinking up at the voice that spoke over him, he was startled to hear it say his name. His vision felt blurred by the long hours he had been asleep, but as the fog of slumber ebbed from view he slowly began to see more clearly.

    Her face was too close to be distinguishable just yet, but he could see that her eyes were blue. “Yes?” He said, lifting his head and giving it a quick shake.

    “You’re Leander.”

    “Yes,” he said again, wishing the face would move back to give him some room even as a coughing spell overtook him. Once he’d recovered enough to look up again, he saw that she had backed away. Had she not been encased in a transparent layer of ice that stole his attention as it moved and shifted as though it were alive, he might have given more notice to the distinct pattern of gold and white upon the flesh beneath it. His first thought, however, was that she was a part of the fae’s quest. She certainly looked the part, he mused.

    So he asked: “Were you sent to help me?” Her blue eyes were wider now, almost disbelieving, though beyond that he saw something hard in them – cold. “No,” she replied, the word drawn out warily. He waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. Now that he had a little space, with some effort, Leander stood. “Guess that means I must’ve chosen wrong.” His voice was tinged with regret at his repeated failure, and he sighed heavily.

    “How did you get here?” She demanded suddenly, and something in her voice gave him pause. He met her gaze with a wry look. “Long story,” he started, but she interrupted him. “Leander.” He stilled at the sound of his name on her lips. A chill ran through him, though whether it was the sickness in him or something else, he couldn’t exactly say.

    “I’m Kora – your sister.”

    He blinked harder at that – and just for an instant, his own gaze mirrored her look of disbelief. Then a smile broke across his face, and in his excitement he nearly shouted, “Kora!” A hacking cough put a stop to his outburst of exuberance, though once his lungs had cleared he grinned and moved closer, offering his muzzle to exchange breath with his newfound sibling. She seemed to hesitate, her expression curiously empty – but then she briefly brushed her nose to his.

    Despite the infection and his failure to help cure it, Leander felt nearly as happy as he’d imagined he would be to meet his sister. On the other hand, her reaction did seem a little odd. Then again, it was no doubt a shock to encounter him out of the blue like this. “This is crazy,” he laughed, hoping to ease some of her apparent tension. “I was beginning to think I might not find you – or Rhy, for that matter.”

    His enthusiastic smile was meant to be encouraging, though the air blew with a sudden and frigid wind. He had yet to realize she controlled the winter around them – after all, Icicle Isle had proved itself to be less than hospitable thus far. His thoughts buzzed as he went on. “Do you live here now?” Perhaps she had sought sanctuary from the plague. “You’re not sick, are you?” She didn’t look sick. “You have no idea how glad I am that you’re here.” Still, she was quiet – and finally Leander paused, though he had to quell a strong urge to continue.

    “You should know something,” she ventured. “Rhy – she died.”

    Heavy snow was falling.
    It was the kind that created a muffled silence – a silence he didn’t know how to break.

    Eventually, the blue of her eyes softened a little. “Come with me,” she said. “I know a place. We can talk more there.” Looking stricken, he managed to nod even as his gaze wavered and his lips grew tight. They move off together, and the snowfall followed –

    Trailing behind her like a veil.



    leander
    take a bullet to the heart just to keep you safe; like a dream in my arms but i’m wide awake

    see a more detailed explanation of wtf just happened in plots if you wish!
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