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  • Beqanna

    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


    what's past is prologue // raul
    #1

     
    Clegane's life had improved considerably after leaving the Riverlands. He had seen a little bit of the world, although there was still plenty of it left to explore, and his wounds had healed. No longer did he had to resist the terrible itching, and meals were easy to come by here.  He had even met a filly who said she thought his scars weren't exactly ugly, but she had gone a little funny after he told her how he got them... and then he never saw her again.

    But he wasn't too worried. He enjoyed the variety of companions the meadow had to offer and getting to know his sire was a privilege he hadn't always believed he would be given. 

    "Dad!" The young stallion trots towards his father, leaving a trail of snowflakes twirling behind him. His unusual trait was a little less unusual in the winter months, and the frost in his pale mane would be easy to miss. A gentle snow falls now, the heavy grey clouds above them look close enough to touch. There is no wind, and all the creatures are hidden away in their dens and nests, leaving the meadow still and quiet.

    He slows to a walk as he reaches Raul's side, his smile haphazard and one good ear alert.

    "Something weird happened today," he begins, turning his grey gaze forward, "watch." His face takes on the expression of a scholar as he looks out across the plains, and almost imperceptibly something changes. Where the snow had been drifting steadily downward is begins to shift course, floating at a slight angle away from the pair of stallions. It is enough to put a smile back on Clegane's face. 

    "Did you see that?"

    Clegane

    been in the dark for weeks         and I've realized you're all I need
    and I hope that I'm not       too late, I hope I'm not too late



    @[Raul]
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    #2
    The buckskin stallion looked on with quiet pride. He too felt that life had gotten better since coming across boy. Clegane, he was called, and Raul had thanked his lucky stars every day since his lonely path had brought them together. The boy was a bright thing. He had grown in statue and confidence since they had met, and it was an experience that Raul had long feared he would never be granted. 

    There was no flaw to the stallion's mind when it came to his son. The scars life had given the boy early on were marks of bravery, as indelible as the rust red tattoos he himself wore. The winged son was everything and more that the sire could ever have hoped for in a child. He only wished Warlight were here to see their boy flourish. To share the warmth that had replaced the emptiness within his chest. 

    On this day the sky was heavy with its snow filled burden, flecks of ice dancing as they drifted through the air. Their breath had been forming misty puffs, and it was easy to pretend at being dragonkin. 

    The flame maned stallion had been pawing at the ice crusted earth. Beneath were remnants of last season's bounty, a poor comparison to summer's harvests but it was food nonetheless. His head lifted at his son's call, smiling at the gifted title. Dad. He'd given up on that ever being a name given to him and it thrilled his heart every time he heard it. 

    The youthful stallion neared him with a joyful expression, and Raul listened raptly to him disclose his discovery. Together they watched the whirls of snow as it drifted ever downward, the elder intrigued as to what he would be shown. There! A patch of flakes changed their mind as to which way to fall, and invisible force pushed then away from the pair. The smile on his face broadened. 

    "Well there's a trick. What were you thinking of, to make it do that?" He asked, as much the scholar as his son. Matters of the mind had always made more sense to him, though life had seen fit to throw a share of physical battle his way as well. It did not suit him as well as words often had. To fight first and ask questions later had been his brother's way, not his. 

    @[Clegane]
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    #3
    @[Raul] is patient, standing silent and motionless as he waits for what his son has to show him, and Clegane focuses his mind. His father is quick to spot the snowfall's change in direction, and Clegane lets his delight show with a toss of his head and stamp of his foreleg.

    He had known his father would be interested in this seemingly uninteresting discovery, and he immediately wonders if he will have any clues to its meaning. The flurries return to falling in a more natural pattern as the son turns his steel-colored gaze in Raul's direction. 

    "I was bored," he laughs in response to his father's question, "and just watching them fall." He had been out looking to see if any new -hopefully young, maybe even female - faces were to be found in the meadow, but he doesn't add that. After a few horses of trekking through the snow, he had given up and found enjoyment in nature. "I was resting by the creek just watching them fall, and just really looking at them... if that makes sense."

    The frost begins to accumulate along his downy wings and plush winter pelt, and the young stallion gives a whole-body shake, before trotting a few steps forward and spinning to face his companion again. He always seemed to have energy to burn.  "Maybe I can learn to control snow, or maybe it has to do with the frost that's always on me? I don't think there will ever be much use for controlling snowflakes. "

    He wasn't one to dream of power, but the thought of discovering a special talent or gift was a charming thought for any boy. His grey wings and frosty accents were hardly enough to make anyone take a second look, and was starting to understand most the second looks he did get were for less than ideal reasons.
    cleganetransparent
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    #4
    The blood marked stallion didn't flaunt the talents he'd been given. He had been born without much of anything to show for the blood he ran in his veins. Not when his twin was a riot of magic and fire. Fire was a thing he had never had much skill with. As he'd grown up, explored and experienced the rawness of the world, things had changed. 

    Magic had found its way into his body. In quiet ways it had infiltrated him, and he had tried his best to use it wisely. The wisdom had been flawed, however. He had been able to push away reality only for a time before it sliced back into his world and taken away all he loved. The magic had failed him, and he wanted nothing to do with it after that. 

    He had gotten back a piece of himself in finding Clegane. The boy was a hard reminder of what he'd lost, but one he cherished beyond all else. There was a beauty to the boy, the way he existed like a sapling in the woods, always striving to surpass the days before. While the elder stallion wished he had known the colt from the day he'd been born, it was enough to know him and love him from the day their paths had fated to cross. Now he could watch his son grow from child to adolescent, and hope that he could be a guide worth having. 

    If his magic was dormant, it was not forgotten. He saw the way the flecks of snow danced on the air, and suspected that he had given more of himself that he'd realized. That was his suspicion, anyway. He nodded in consideration as the winged boy's assessment. There were other possibilities, of course. Ice and snow might be the birthright of his child, but there were other factors might play in. 

    "That could be. Tell me, was it the snowflakes themselves that moved? Or the air holding them." He posited, letting the idea settle on the snow. At the paint boy's doubt at the use of manipulating snowflakes, a half smile flitted across the stoic stallion's face. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. But many snowflakes makes a blizzard, don't they?" He asked, and the snowflakes spun dizzy in response. They danced and whirled with abandon around the two stallions. 

    @[Clegane]
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    #5
    Many snowflakes make a blizzard, don't they?

    Clegane nods, tucking away his sire's words as he watches the small flurries dance between them. If he had a way to influence the air, well that would be much more interesting. Combined with his wings, the ability to shape the wind would give him the freedom to glide from one side of the world to the other without breaking a sweat, and the thought of such limitless travel causes his heart to beat a little faster. It called for more experimentation, more time and focus, later.

    What had been left unsaid between them also pulls for his attention.

    There always seemed to be a hidden weight behind his father's words, a heavy thoughtfulness that suggested there was much he held back. It was the same burden he had begun to notice in Solace during their last days together - before he had told her he was leaving to travel with @[Raul] .

    He didn't know for sure the source of his guardians' hurt, but he had a pretty good idea.

    The irregularity of the snowflakes now feels like a mystery to be solved another time as his forever-curious silver eyes watch his father.  He lets the silence stretch for a moment, pulling the icy air deep into his lungs before he speaks.

    "Do we have more family," more than his mom and her mothers, he doesn't need to add.  He thinks back to the times when he told Solace he was going to travel to every place in Beqanna as they stood watching the sun set over the distant pampas, he thinks of more horses with antlers and wings and sterling eyes.  "Do you have any siblings..." he ventures, before there is a question which leaves his mouth the same moment it enters his mind.

    "Do I have any siblings?"

    He feels a knot building in his chest as he waits for his father's answer, wondering how he had never thought to ask such a thing before.
    cleganetransparent
    Reply
    #6
    They watched the snow drift for a moment, let it gather on their backs and melt on their breath. Everything was so still. When it snowed, it seemed as if the rest of the world faded away, and left only what could be touched behind. 

    The crunch of the stuff beneath his feet seemed louder than it might have otherwise, every with as subtle a movement as shifting his weight. The silence was heavy. Typically, the buckskin did not mind quiet. Often, he preferred it. This felt different, though. There was something on his son's mind, and he waited to see if it would come out. 

    The winged youth spoke, and Raul sighed. So they had finally come to it. Family. It was a difficult subject at the best of times, but it needed so be broached. Now was as good a time as any. He nodded, marshalling his thoughts into order. "Yes. We do." The stern lines of his face deepened in thought. 

    "Quite a lot of family, if you really want to know. The dragons of the South. King Castile is the one who sired myself and my twin. I have a number of siblings, none of which I have spoken with recently, though you are welcome to seek them out if you wish. You may have cousins, I do not know. My mother, your grandmother, is not a sociable mare. I would not suggest seeking her out, though I believe she did know your mother's mothers." 

    He swallowed hoarsely, unused to such lengthy speech. Yet there was more. There was always more. One more question, and this at least was an answer he knew for certain. "You do not. Not by me, and from what you have told me, I do not believe by your dam." There wasn't time. 

    His throat tightened, voice more gravely than usual as he spoke. With a guarded expression, he waited too what the winged lad would have to say to these revelations. Clegane had been born into a tangled family tree, something his sire had done his best to keep at bay. But there it was, and the boy could do with it what he wanted. 

    @[Clegane]
    Reply
    #7
    You do not. Not by me, and from what you have told me, I do not believe by your dam.

    He tries not to show his disappointment, but the way his wings and eyes drop ever so slightly probably wouldn't escape his quick-eyed father. Raul's guarded look works to discourage his son's curiosity and he doesn't ask for details. In the few months he spent with his dying mother, he had never challenged her. He had obediently fallen silent with only a look form her dark eyes, and he had learned to read her when words were difficult. Even in her weakness, she had occasionally had a temper (or maybe it was heightened by her misery) and his compliance had saved them both the discomfort and wasted energy of conflict.

    But his sire was not his dam, he knew, and he takes a breath before working up the courage to bring up one more topic which he had been putting off. Raul only wanted the best for him, but still, it grates against the colt's nature to oppose the wishes (even unspoken ones) of his father.

    "Maybe I'll meet some of them soon then," he begins. " Soon I want to go explore some of the other kingdoms and herdlands, maybe one of the islands or the pampas..."

    Hearing the words out loud her grows a little bolder, the idea finally seems to become real.

    "But I was just worried it would be hard to find you again."
    cleganetransparent
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