"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
Things had been happening so quickly that it’s easy to get lost in the rapid ebb and flow of this new Beqanna. But even so, one must make time where there seems to be none. And if there is anything Heartfire excels at, seeing the larger picture is certainly one. Though the events swirling around Icicle Isle had certainly been consuming, there is far more at stake here. A thing so easy to forget, but so vital to remember.
And so, she makes the swim from the frigid island to the main shores of Nerine. She didn’t have long, but she would make time for what she must. Already the thought of her children calls to her. She would return to them soon enough, but first she has business that needs seeing to.
It had been easier before, when she’d been able to keep her children at her side here in Nerine. But now the danger is too great. She would much rather see them safe with their father, in a land not plagued by strife or disease. Soon, she hopes it might be safe to bring them home. But for now, there is no place safer for them than at their father’s side. Whatever she and Dovev might have between them, she knows he would never allow harm to come to their children.
It is not difficult to find Breckin here. Especially with her particular talents.
They had come to know each other, though perhaps not as well as they might have. Still, they’ve never truly had a chance for a tête-à-tête, have they? As far as she is concerned, it is high time they had. They do have things to discuss, that much is certain.
Without formality she settles next to the spotted woman, her cunning blue gaze scanning the horizon slowly before coming to rest on her fellow Nerinian. She considers her silently for a moment before speaking, offering her own version of a greeting. “You’ve been a busy woman.”
Mourning. Is this what mourning felt like? She hadn't fully known it yet, as far as she could remember. A lie actually--she hadn't allowed herself to feel it yet. Not fully, not in this lifetime.
Caught in the shadows of all the light around her, trapped in a sadness desperate to know how things could have worked out differently, regretful of choices both made and unmade. This had to be what it felt like to mourn the loss of a life, even it had been doomed to be a life unlived. Not only for her, but for her lover, her children, all of her Nerinian family. Even beyond the borders to their Allies and the nomadic. Lives that could have been threaded so differently had the plague never struck and caused an upheaval of unrest and dismantling of the structure throughout Beqanna.
There was nothing she could change the situation, she knew this, but all the same, it was nice to silently delve into the loss of what could have been, to let the small foundation she held herself up with crumble and recede. It would only be temporary, this falter in her emotion and purposeful vulnerability, it had to be temporary. For her sake and, more importantly, for the others.
Someone had caught her in temporary solitude. Only mildly aware of the blue laced silhouette that drew up beside her, she continued with her distant stare. It wouldn't be until her present company spoke in familiarity that she would turn a warming sideways glance her way
She doesn't question the knowledge in Heartfire's statement, marginally aware of the visionary abilities she possessed, though its magnitude was largely still unknown to her. Very simply, she smiles in acknowledgment. It was true, she had been busy and something she had thought on often. Though doubt and concern always accompanied such wonderings. Was it enough? Would it ever be enough?
The woman is lost in contemplation as Heartfire settles alongside her, a distinct air of melancholy about her spotted features. It’s not unexpected, given the changes that had so rapidly overtaken their home. Given the tragedies the even now begin to play out, that would continue to do so as this plague worsened. For someone unused to witnessing such things first hand, she can well understand how disheartening it might feel.
Perhaps it does not feel that way now, but this would pass eventually. Would be forgotten in the distant halls of history until it became more legend than truth. Heartfire has seen it enough times to know the inevitability of it. Even the lands shaped and remade by the whims of their gods is nothing terribly unusual, when it comes down to it.
It is easier to overcome such grief with the knowledge that it would not last. A bit callous perhaps, but then, Heartfire has always been a pragmatic individual. The events of the last few months had been an anomaly for her, not the norm. Given their still relatively untried acquaintance, she hardly expects Breckin to know these things about her.
Heartfire might see far more than she should, but she is well aware most do not. A fact she has always used to her advantage. Better (safer) to be underestimated than the opposite.
Her lips twitch faintly at Breckin’s rather banal question. It is a polite thing to ask, expected of a queen. But an utterly useless question too. It begs dishonesty from to start, because only a cretin would not answer with something bland and socially acceptable. And something quite probably untrue.
“Well enough, all things considered,” she replies. Bland and socially acceptable. She does not bother to return the question. She could see for herself how well Breckin is doing without having to wade through half-truths. Instead she sweeps the small talk aside in favor of more substantial topics.
“The isle is quiet.” Too quiet, but she does not say as much. Her companion must know. “Tell me your opinion of Set.” It’s a probing request, fueled by genuine curiosity. The magician is something of an anomaly to her, one of the few beings who has the power to encumber her. She would not be so foolish as to underestimate such a man, especially given the circumstances. Breckin, however, has a shrewd mind and instincts, one she could trust to be relatively accurate. She is well aware how precarious their position is. And she would need every scrap of information she could get if she were going take this particular bull by the horns.
