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  • Beqanna

    version 22: awakening


    OCEANE -- Year 208


    "Because if she had not met him, she knew she would have been searching her whole life for the piece that he filled her heart with." -- Eva, written by Shelbi

    but i can still remember just the way you taste; castile/any

    The dark form of a black dragon blots out the sun as it circles. He needed a place to land despite the tightness in his joints but not just any place would accommodate his form. Annoyed, black smoke seeps from his nostrils till white eyes spy a green spot for his decent.

    Eased with time and familiarity in his body, the black dragon hits the wet soil with a thud, long nails digging deep into the earth, scarring it. Lior shakes out his wings and exhales another noxious cloud before he takes his first steps, each footfall changing him into his natural form, a dark dragon to that of a gunmetal stallion.

    This world is unlike the one he has left. It lay flayed as a butchered lamb, of strained bleating to fall upon deadened ears, the light dimming in wet black eyes. The great beast of legend and lore, the father of dragons, splits grasses to seek his first son in his making. There is a hunger to nourish that can only be sated in the presence of his progeny.

    Sunlight glints upon the silver-blue gunmetal skin that swathes his heavy bones. It teases and threatens to bleach his thickly muscled hips but even the sun dared not to toy with one that should wield it’s force. Wide feet fall heavily with the burden of his weight as white eyes seek his child-king’s face. How much time has past? Would he recognize his boy?

    Lior breathes heavily as summer humidity lines his lungs, picking away the crust of salt that whispers a lullaby of a life departed. Sweet Nayl, his goddess, his iron queen, the love of his existence, has been left in the sanctuary of their quiet cliffs so Lior may seek his son.

    The length of his hair hangs thickly upon his neck and haunches but now time has woven strands of silver throughout the gnarled snags that lock his hair in a tangle of disarray. The man has no time to groom nor care. His life’s meaning is for the care and protection of his family that he hold vastly close. Wings of sleek inky leather lay upon his spine, folded carefully. If nature bender to his will, ice and frost would form upon the very ground he stood.

    Lior looks onward, scenting, Castile was close here. The male knew Loess well...his willful and wild daughter Isobell had made a home with the kelpie king once. Stillwater has thought tempt his wife away with promises of love and passion in the ponds long before that. Foolish creature.

    Buzzing thoughts are quelled though they remain sweet as he thought of his Nayl. Beautiful, vengeful, perfect. His lips still tingled when he has kissed her long and hard before he left the warmth of her side to find Castile. Her scent cling to his skin and he would lavish in sweet dreams of his woman when he slept tonight but for now he must find his dragon son, hold him, be with him in this ragged, blood clotted sore of a time.

    but i can still remember just the way you taste

    The young stallion is not far from his father's path. Bronsonn had laid in Loess quietly keeping to himself, watchful of his oldest brother's reign as well as how his twin had flourish. He had no excuse for his ways but it felt natural and normal to be detached.

    Dark eyes had watched how the great black dragon had found passage. Bron already knew who he was before even making landfall. The beast was his father, Lior, intimidating as smoke curled from the end of his dark muzzle. The painted stallion moves from his bedding to find the man standing quietly, observing Loess. "Father." Bron offers a greeting and his muzzle. The young man is more like his father than ever with his reluctance to socialize but bearing the build and brawn of the old dragon.

    Blue-grey like the skin of his sire, painted like his dam, Bron had been blessed to inherit both resemblances to his lineage. He is a handsome beast with no care for appearances despite the chisel of a fine jaw. The dark eyes meet the silver-white of Lior's. Castile would be about soon, he imagines. It was hard to miss the gathering of father and son in the home of dragons.

    The old man expresses his happiness to see his youngest dragonborn in only the way he knows how. He draws his boy close (nearly his own height) and breathes slowly. Family was everything and it seemed all too common that there lay fragmented foals from broken homes and absent parents.

    The dark male savors this moment with an approving rumble in his chest, the dark leathery wings enveloping Bronsonn carefully. Lior is quite away his son as well as Castile have surpassed him in ways he will knew know but he is proud and he knows Nayl is as well. They have bore strong children into Beqanna, gifts among the lambs, to lead them to righteousness and salvation. After a few more heartbeats, the stallion steps back to admire the painted stallion. "I knew you were here. Where is your brother?" He asks lowly, a gravely voice grinding between his rusted jaws.

    Silver-white eyes seem to float against the metallic of his dark face, hair tangled and tattered in their typical fashion. He lifts his pale gaze away momentarily in hopes to see Castile bu he knew his first child would be along. "Are your sisters here?" The question is unwavering as there is no inflection in his voice. Lior's desire to reunite with his family are not without intention as something drew the old dragon to return from his quiet alcove to that of Beqanna. Nothing drew his from his woman's side but Lior felt the need of his children, their desire to have their father among them again.

    but i can still remember just the way you taste

    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    It could have been faster, the reunion of a father and his children. Were the wings still protruding from his shoulders, Castile could have quickly descended from the mountainous peaks of the cave to greet Lior at Loess’ gates. Alas, with the faeries magic having drained him, he is forced to walk the perilous trails that wind down the summit and heavily gallop across the rocky knolls of the kingdom.

    Only Sochi knows of his punishments.

    In reality, no one should know. It’s a weakness, a vulnerability.

    So, as an excuse for the delay, Castile ushers Cyprin alongside him so that they may meet with Bronsonn and Lior together.

    Sweat glistens across their coats – so different no matter how similar their blood – and dances in the sunlight as their hooves eat away the distance among them. Cyprin is the first to shout, her sing-song voice piercing the sky as she gains momentum. With bright eyes, she calls first to her twin, then their father. Her sliding halt still roughly collides them, but she is unapologetic as she straightens herself to embrace them both. ”I’ve missed you so much,” her labored breaths lower into strained whispers as she shuts her eyes to savor the moments. As the warmth of her skin mingles with theirs, Castile arrives.

    ”Father,” his mismatched eyes immediately scour the gunmetal of Lior, drinking in a sight that he has missed for so long. A languid smile softens the hard edges of his face, crinkling the scars obtained from the war. A sigh slips through him while at a loss for words before he turns onto Bronsonn and playfully nips him. ”My brother,” he states with a voice brimming with adoration for their family. Cyprin regards him then and nudges against him. ”How have you both been?” Better than him, he imagines. Their draconic nature nearly reverberates through the space among them, and for the first time, Castile is envious. His mind reels again, searching for the beast that has always lurked beneath the surface, but there is nothing. No fire, no ferocity, no power. Flinching beneath the stress of his own thoughts, he soothes the ache with distraction and silence as his metallic eyes dance among them.



    remember you could weep fire
    Always a nomad, but forever a homebody. The scent of Loess was on the wind, and flared pink nostrils could smell the scent of her family mingled among many others. Valera had not been to her brother's kingdom since the plague, but she felt her heart brim with happiness when the land came into view, and as white wings carried her closer, she could spot her family coming into view as well.  Clouds break way in wispy tendrils behind her like an ethereal veil as she made her dramatic descent.

    A golden goddess, the sun amongst the shadows. She smirks as she comes to land before her father and brother. as well as two others, who wore a similar color to her father, as well as her mother's paint. She conjures flame in a dramatic flair around her feet and behind her as she lands. Winking to Castile lovingly, with a hint of mischief. Tossing her silvery white thick tendrils from over her eye, she picked up a dramatic prance and in a sing song voice she cooed to her father jokingly.

    "Daddyyyyy!!! Your FAVORITE golden sun child has returned!"

    She can't help but laugh, trotting toward him faster now with large strides to lock him in the most loving embrace. His strong scent, so familiar, so comforting, filled her nostrils. The scent of her beloved mother clung to his skin as well. She spoke, her voice muffled as she buried herself into him.

    "I've missed you so much" 
    She lets the gunmetal stallion free from her embrace, turning to nuzzle her brother with a warm smile across her lips. 
    I've missed you as well, it's been so long. I hope you have been well. You know...I've been feeling homesick...I am ready to come home. If you will have me?"

    Her orange gaze falls upon the twin siblings, her smile wide. She extends her muzzle lovingly. Her sweet voice so full of love and happiness. She really was a bright one, in both senses of the word. Seeing as she is literally the gold sheep of the family.

    "Hello! My name is Valera, I am your big sister! It's so wonderful to meet you!!"
    Nayl x Lior

    The marble of his dark features cracks visibly as he smiles wide and full, his eyes are nearly shut from the broadness of his grin. His children, beloved and full of life, warm the cold fragments of his dark heart. He snatches Cyprin close and squeezes her hard with his body. Lior had a soft place for his daughters as they carried the sweetest parts of his beloved Nayl. "Cyprin, my girl..." He steps back to admire the beauty she has grown to before the sight of his golden girl illuminates between the dark shrubbery. Gentle Valera, the beacon of gold through their darkness, wraps herself around him sweetly.

    Lior gathers them all close, embracing his beautiful daughters and savoring their heat of their wild souls...oh how he wished his wish could be here. Silver-white eyes lift to see Castile, his first dragonborn, stand off to the side to admire the interactions. "My boy..." The words are low and grinding but Lior's features reflect nothing but love for the pied stallion. The old man easily gathers Castile to him, his wings helping to pull him close as he crushes himself again the younger man. Lior had missed his family and it showed in a greedy desperation.

    "Children...," he breathes low as his eyes pass each of their now gown faces. His heart leaps and falls over the time he has missed but there is an absolute beam of pride that covers his usually stoic face. He smiles wide and full, proud. "it is good to be home." The man rumbles as he reaches for them all again to embrace them wholly.

    After a moment's pass, the dark man looks to Castile, the meaning of his visit and hopeful stay. "Son, how are things?" Concern creases his features and the smile slips away. His boy seems aloof and dodgy and there is something haunting the edges of his eyes. Lior would crush any who threatened his family, mare or stallion. "Tell me what is unsettling you." The tone is gruff and blunt as his pale eyes lock the two tone of the dragon king. This was not a gentle request.

    but i can still remember just the way you taste

    B R O N S O N N
    The closeness of them all is overwhelming and so Bronsonn must step aside so his siblings may greet their father. The great Lior, dark and brooding, was smiling and for the first Bron had ever witnessed in his short life. The painted man who stands nearly as tall, sides near his twin, draping his heavy head around the dark mare with her mischievous eyes. A breath draws her scent in and he is warmed by her presence and skin.

    Valera, his sweet older sister, emerges with a burst of energy and her smiling eyes. She was a ray of hope for them with her blazing color. She was more spirited and joyful of them all and exuded her radiance in her infectious laughter. Bron gives her a sweet greeting of a smile and draws her close to him, tugging at the fair hair playfully. "Valera." The blue grey beast murmurs gently int he tangle of her mane before releasing her.

    "Little Cyprin." He muses with a smirk, a dark eye lifted towards his older brother. Bron allows the time with Castile and the warm greeting before he returns the nip of the painted man's hip. His brother was so similar to their father and Bronsonn admired them both greatly. Both were ideal men, strong and hearty, true dragons. The younger stallion falls quiet, near his twin, with ears forward when their father speaks.

    Lior always commanded attention despite his few words but his sheer presence seemed to capture audiences...Bron was not immune to it. He listens as Lior inquires to Castile's mood, already knowing with his fatherly instinct, something was off and Bron bristles in return. He dared any to threaten one of his own family, willing to risk life and pride, for them.
    i'll keep you close
    and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
    a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
    Their presence is a balm to his worries. Even with a looming sense of grim doom, Castile smiles in the embrace of his siblings and father. For the first time in years, they are together - truly together. A deep warmth blankets across them all, and when he glances to Cyorin he sees how much of a novelty this is to her. Since birth, she has been confined to the familial cave but never truly experiencing this intimate sense of love and adoration. Her eyes close to drink in the moment and savor each passing second that father presses his muzzle to her or Bronsonn leans into her side or Valera speaks in her bright, uplifting voice. ”I’ve been waiting so long for this moment,” she confesses in a voice low enough that only they can hear, their ball of memories and adoration.

    Castile admiringly nudges Cyprin before flickering his eyes to Valera, grinning at her as they embrace. ”Welcome home,” he murmurs warmly into her skin, ”you belong wherever the family is.” How silly, he almost comments, for her to question whether they will have her. They are all stronger together, a powerful force when united.

    They flock like lambs to a shepherd. Father stands at the core, calling to them and reassuring them that they are all home, that they are where they belong. Loess seemed so empty without them all so actively joined. Now, the air tastes of fire and brimstone as their draconic family assembles beneath the summer sun.

    And as much as Castile wants to roar in triumph or blow a plume of smoke in sheer joy, nothing happens. As much as he suppresses his disappointment, it comes as no surprise that father already knows. His parents have always known him best. They peel back his layers without ever even trying.

    Regarding Lior with an angled look, Castile suddenly frowns. ”Although temporary, I am no longer a dragon. I was greedy and wanted more, but the faeries made a mockery of me,” he casts his gaze aside, both irritated and ashamed. For years, he has been happy with all that he has, but with a looming shadow edging closer to Loess – to his family – he could not resist tasting more. Now, he is paying the consequences but still questioning what more he could do to protect what he has built.


    I am not afraid... I was born to do this.
    Finally, the day has come.

    Sunlight washes across her skin as she leaves behind the cave. Upon the summit, she glances down and most of the world is specks of dust scattered across the rocky knolls. In truth, she cannot entirely see them all, but her heart senses them. Their scents reach like tendrils of smoke across the kingdom and climb to her height, luring her toward them like an obedient child.

    Her movements are quick, but fluid. She descends with furtive will and runs with the wind against her back until they are finally within her view.

    Her – their – children.
    And Lior.

    Among the group, he stands out like the beacon he is. His commanding presence has pulled the strings of their family to reunite them after so long. A couple of them have been living in the mountainside, in the cave that Castile forged for them, but they’ve never come together like this.

    Her heart explodes with unreigned joy as she stops then slowly walks toward them to close the last bit of distance. A smile beautifully personifies the happiness pulsing through her veins as she loses herself in the euphoria of their reunion. ”My children,” she croons as she adoringly reaches to touch each one of them before turning on Lior with eyes brightened by an inner flame. ”My love,” my everything, she implies, before folding into him and looking at what they have built together.

    former queen of nerine
    daughter of covet & myrina

    And suddenly the sky thickens with calcified air. The ocean engorges itself on sand and silt and Lior minds it all with a low grunt and the twitch of one ear. His children are flooding around him and his heart is leaping with happiness.

    Then it reaches him.

    Salt and smoke. A tumultuous blend of of their lovemaking beneath a fat moon, it's glow intensified by the jealou to witness their perfection. "Nayl!" Lior bellows loudly (perhaps the only time he has ever uttered a sound above his usual low growl) and he is breaching the collection of his children and reaching, reaching, reaching.

    Lior crushes her to him in a swift and fluid motion, wrapping his larger body around hers with instinctive, primal impulse. His mouth covers every inch of her beautiful face, tender and gentle, tasting the salt on her skin and wanting more. He buries his face deeply into her soft mane to inhale her scent. Every moment from her side was an aching torture that was nearly unbearable.

    He does not hide his affection for he is a beast of a man and knows nothing different. 'My love...my love..." He whispers against her lovely skin over and over as he rocks her gently. The thundering of a dragon man is melted by simply seeing her. His is but a pussy cat in her arms. 'I have missed you." Lior is finally able to utter when he is able to pull his mouth from the curve of her jaw. "Look at our children, look how they have flourished." And he is PROUD. Proud of their children and their accomplishments. The dragon family born of salt and sea were something quite astonishing to behold let alone all gathered in Loess.

    Lior does not pull away willingly but does so to allow their children to embrace their mother, his silver-white eyes beaming with adoration and pride.

    but i can still remember just the way you taste


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