[open] you had your maps drawn

[aletta]

When the dawn wakes, so does Aletta.

She has never wasted much time lingering when a day starts. An old habit of hers, brought upon by a lifetime of patrolling and raising small children and then grandchildren. An even older one started from a beginning of wandering, of following the sun as soon as it rose. 

It hadn’t been an easy choice to resume this lifestyle. The wanderer had long left her soul. Aletta had let her go the day that she had decided to let herself love. She has no doubt that her soul went east and west, north and south while her heart stayed within the ancient valley. (So many happy memories there - why would she ever have gone anywhere else?) 

The gray mare is trying very hard to reacquaint herself with the soul that traveled and the heart that stayed. Rising early, leaving a still-sleeping Scorch, is something that helps. 

Sunlight comes cascading through the treetops. The green that adorns them is bright and vibrant, revealing that Beqanna is in the heart of spring. These early mornings are quiet (apart from the idyll chatter of birdsong) and the air blows tepid, without the coming humidity of summer. 

The silver mare wanders down a trail that is well-traveled - many scents linger and she assumes that is only the dawn that keeps travelers away. Their heads are still clouded with dreams. Aletta doesn’t mind. The pale woman walks ahead, enjoying the fact that she is very much awake while the world still sleeps.

@[Squirt] have a starter but open to anyone!

[Mesec]

Throughout the ups and downs in Mesec’s life, his favourite time of day has shifted. He’s always felt most comfortable at night - sometimes when the moon is out, the silver light reminding him of his mother, and others when the moon is completely hidden and he can focus instead on feeling relief from her absence. But the dawn, the bright and colourful start to a new day, has been a favourite for a while. In the sky, he sees colours that remind him of friends he has lost, of his children now grown and living scattered throughout the lands. It reminds him of that flame of hope in his heart that never quite went out, even when things were at their darkest. He closes his silver eyes when he feels the first rays of sunlight on his face, relishing the warmth they bring and feeling all the sweeter for breaking up the shadows of the cool green forest. When he opens them again, he moves from where he had been standing towards a path he remembered seeing - and there spots a grey figure coming along the path towards him. He does not move to block the path but stays with his hooves shrouded in small green plants and the occasional flower - his voice carefully not too loud so as to not break the peaceful spell of the new day. “Good morning.” And that’s when some of the anxiety that plagued him in his youth begins to swell up, choking off the question about whether she would mind some company on her stroll through the woods. Instead, he leaves it there, for now, giving this stranger the opportunity to pause as she passes him or, perhaps, just move on to wherever she was going. Mesec

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@[aletta]

[aletta]

Aletta has been as unmoving as the Mountains of her youth in regards to her habits.

There is respite to be found in the sleeping hours. However, the silver mare has spent many of them speaking with stars instead of resting. (Those twinkling sentinels have become more of companions than transients through their years together.) There had been many restless nights trying to understand their intentions - to learn about the things she never understood.

(And maybe that was the way her traveling soul made peace with staying in one place for so long. She let her mind wander where her heart could not go. Perhaps that was the way she had learned to cope with staying still when the wanderlust in her veins had told her to go.)

She has long kept vigil with the night but Aletta always looks forward to the dawn.

The dawn represents new beginnings. It represents a start where an encroaching night only speaks of an end. Dawn usually begins with luster, still gilded with all the promise of things that haven’t gone wrong. It emphasizes the inception of things that could be and haven’t yet (or won’t) become tarnished with the endless cycle of the sun.

(Oh, to be at the start again. What would that be like?)

At this moment, it's easy to pretend that she is doing another patrol. The foals and the rivers are long gone but the ghost of that lifetime still starts each day with her. It’s not the beginning she had just been contemplating but the familiarity of the habit keeps her company as she walks this trail. It’s an easy companionship, Aletta and her silence. One that has been with her since the beginning of her journey away from the Mountaintops.

Only that is not the only thing with her, not this morning.

Having had spied him further down the trail. He was hard to miss, with those wings and a horn that looked like it had gone awry. (A battle scar, maybe?) In the morning light, he was all silver and glory. Like her earlier presumption of him - hard to miss. "Morning,” the former Regent replies just as carefully back to him, unsure what to make of the winged stallion.

Floundering in the early morning quiet, she tilts her head. "Care for company…?” Aletta asks, leaving the space in the question (and the trail) open if he wanted to take it.

@[Mesec]

[Mesec]

There’s enough hesitation in the grey mare’s voice that Mesec wonders if, maybe, he’s not the only one with a bit of anxiety when starting fresh conversations with strangers. He’s making assumptions - but it’s hard to brush off assumptions that make you feel better. Mesec has always favoured being with others over being by himself - it’s such a simple thing, having company, but it’s still a bit of a novelty for him. So when tilts her head and offers it - who is he to say no? The soft smile in his silver eyes continues to warm. “That’d be wonderful. I’m Mesec.” He moves with grace and care - the movements of someone who is mindful of the space he takes up and how it might affect others. Luckily, the trail is large enough that they can walk more-or-less side by side, though he keeps his wings tucked in tight just to be polite. “I’m still pretty new to these lands, do you know if this trail leads anywhere in particular?” His tone is light and it hopefully conveys that he is just curious - because it doesn’t really matter either way. Whether there was a destination or not, he truly was happy just to have some company for a time. He can’t help but think of the equine’s he’s known before, with their powerful dragon companions making up for any physical adornments. And he then chides himself, bringing up that ever-present reminder that he would do no one any favours by dwelling in memories and comparisons. He can’t cut out pieces of this land and force them into the puzzle of his past. So focuses more on the present, even if it’s just filled with small talk for the moment. He likes small talk. Mesec

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@[aletta]

[aletta]

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If there is one thing she has learned from wandering, it is that paths cross. They come together - much like the crossroad she and Mesec create - and that moment now waits to be woven into the fabric of their lives, a sentence to be written in both their stories. Aletta takes the time to study with the exact care that the pegasus had given to the tone of his voice. Careful not to break the peace of the early morning light, quiet as the black stallion made his own decision on how he wanted to start this new day. How (and if) he wanted to meet this particular crossroad. The dark pegasus smiles - something that comes gently shining through his bright eyes - and Aletta gives a small nod of her head. The wanderer was used to roaming alone; the Regent had done her cautionary patrols in solitude. The silence - her usual companion - had been exchanged for Mesec and the gray mare finds that she doesn’t mind. He has a peaceful presence and while her mind is still reaching for routines from a life gone, she finds that crossing paths with him might be an amicable one to walk. "Aletta,” she offers nonchalantly, taking note as he tucked his wings closely against him. Her dark eyes linger there, curious before looking up and moving ahead. There is some time that passes where nothing passes at all between them. The gray mare from the Mountains has spent the last few years of her adult life (and before that) with the snowfall and starlight. It’s a habit to let other things fill the silence - the sound of leaves and twigs breaking underneath their hoofsteps, the birdsong occupying the branches above them, the steady exhales of their breath as they move along - instead of conversation. An ear flutters in his direction when @[Mesec] speaks again, mentioning that he (like her) is new to Beqanna. This isn’t her first time in the Land of the Sunrise and his confession that he comes from somewhere else does intrigue her. The traveler in Aletta (the one from the beginning) had wanted to see all the worlds she could. To prove to herself that there were many other existences that were so very different from the one of her youth. Mesec asks her if she knows where this trail leads and the wayfarer feels a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Her idea of fun has always been learning the lay of lands; of meeting the crossroads and seeing what can be divulged. It's not always the same for others. "I don’t,” she admits. Aletta slows her stride and turns her head, considering him. "Does that change your mind?” aletta we turned our back on ordinary from the start photo credit to charlie---x

[Mesec]

There’s a faint chuckle at her response to his question because it surprises him - somehow he had not been anticipating that answer at all. Although he was new to this land, he found it easy to assume that he was in the minority and anyone he came across would have been living here for some time. Still, he is quick to respond to her question. “Not at all.” The words and the smile that accompany them are all warmth and friendliness. “Wherever we end up, it’s a treat to just have company after travelling on my own for so long.” There’s a note of wistfulness in his tone but he doesn’t dwell on the thoughts for very long - doesn’t seem polite when he actually has company for once. It is not long before his silver eyes look to her again, that easy of his smile still present as he keeps the conversation going - hoping she doesn’t mind. “Are you relatively new to this land as well?” From one assumption to another, Mesec does enjoy making leaps though he does not think this one is a very large one. He supposes she could just not have a very good sense of direction - or be lying about not knowing where the trail leads - but both of those options don’t sit right. For all the handful of moments that he’s known Aletta - but then Mesec always found it easy to trust the best in everyone other than himself. Mesec

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@[aletta]

[aletta]

He is a throwback to her youth. Aletta hadn’t been so naive to think that every traveler she would encounter would be friendly but the way he smiles reminds her of the times (and travels) when a stranger was more apt to grin than growl. The reply he gives her echoes something she might have once said.

Aletta had never minded the solitude. If anything, she had learned to appreciate the silence. What a horse couldn’t find in conversation, they might find in nature. There were things that might be missed when otherwise occupied with amiable conversation; morning dew that caught fire with the dawn in spring, frost as it painted the landscape in the air in fall. The enchantment of waterfalls as they sang their cascading song, lovely as any siren. Imperial mountains who refused to budge, who refused to erode against the face of time.

The winged stallion has no qualms where they might end up and Aletta knows she’s found another wayward spirit like herself. Even without wings, the gray mare had been the soaring type. That had always been the thrill for her. Another turn, another trail, another corner - what might be on the other side?

Despite some of the consequences, she has always enjoyed the finding out.

"Where did you come from?” she asks, turning her head towards his briefly as they walk. Her dark eyes study him, weighing him, considering him and genuinely curious. Learning the stories behind the travels was almost as exciting as the traveling itself.

"Yes,” the gray mare counters, "and no.” Aletta pauses for a moment and her eyes sparkle - a depthless mirth dancing - as she peers up to him. ”I was here once before,” she continues as she turns her ahead and resumes walking. "The Reckoning, I think they called it. I came looking for the Jungle - for the Amazons - and found everybody was as lost as I was.”

It had been a disappointment, back then. Aletta had spent her entire youth on the mountaintops dreaming of the day she’d find the Amazons. She had dreams of not only joining them but leading them, turning her name into a blaze of glory that would ring alongside others like Asylum and Twinge. Dreams, she learned, change and what she had found instead was something she’ll always be proud of.

"So I wandered some more until I found what I was looking for.” She slows and smiles then, absent of the teasing. Now she wanders again, the smile says, until she finds what she is looking for. Beyond. Home.

@[Mesec]

[Mesec]

It doesn’t feel uncomfortable, this trading of questions as they wander. Perhaps it would be pleasant to walk in silence, but Mesec can’t help but prefer this. He’s curious about so much - about Aletta, about this place, about what he might be able to discover if he stays here - and each moment he learns a little something more. He meets her gaze - when she asks about where had come from. It’s a more complicated answer than he wishes it was, but it never seemed to be in the cards for Mesec to stay in one place for very long. There’s a mingling of sadness and longing in his voice as he replies in his soft voice. “First from a place called Helovia. After that, another called the Rift but I was not there very long. And after that - my family settled somewhere quiet. I never did learn whether it had a name, but it was home.” Mesec watches her for any signs that either of the lands he has mentioned spark any sense of familiarity in her - he doesn’t want to launch into any sort of explanation about either of them if she already knew. He finds himself grinning with her when her eyes dance with her yes and no answer to his own question. It is comforting to know he is not the only one who has bounced around from home to home. “The Reckoning.” He repeats the phrase, feeling the weight of it even without having been here at the time. “I’ll count myself lucky I had not been here for that.” Maybe Beqanna wasn’t quite the reprieve or haven he was looking for, though it would be naive to think he could live anywhere and never experience a disaster of some sort. They always seem to happen, especially where magic is present. He continues a few more steps before asking “Have you found it yet? What you’re looking for?” Mesec

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@[aletta]

[aletta]

Aletta has never had cards. It's always been her stars; she has used them as a compass for as long as she can remember. Her mother - the descendant of the Dalean king, Coca-Cola - had crafted stories beneath starlight about the gray king of the Forbidden Dale. Each star was a story, her mother Ashlynn had said. Each one was a twinkling legend waiting to be remembered. As long as a horse remembered those before them, the lessons of their ancestors would be shining above them.

So she followed them to Beqanna where she learned of the Reckoning. She learned about Nerine and a stallion who had taught her to be wary named Stillwater. She learned about the loss of magic from a bone Magician called Violence and Aletta learned to be cautious when it came to her gifted cousins. Power - Magic - was a corrupter and it made her that much prouder that the blood in her veins was red. Almost pure. Surely that made her that much harder to corrupt.

The iron mare of Beyond had been forged on the mountaintops. Carved and chiseled as the years have gone by and she is proud of the granite in her stance. She is proud of the surety she carries between her slender shoulders. "After Beqanna came a string of islands," the gray mare adds after he speaks. "Then Beyond. And then Liridon. Then Beqanna again." Helovia. Rift. The unknown. The infinite realms that exist have always seemed so delightfully endless. Like galaxies that spin and turn in a never-ending universe that even travelers like she and @[Mesec] will never find the end too.

Her brow arches slightly as she glances back to the glowing pegasus, considering that thought. "Home doesn't have to have a name," Aletta says thoughtfully, (unknowingly) softening to her walking companion. "I've found that it's more of a feeling than anything else." Her home has taken many names - Craignair, Paraiso, Murmuring Rivers, the Pass. The connection that all those places had shared was who she had shared them with.

She wonders briefly what would have made him leave the quiet if it was where his family had settled. Had he not wanted to stay with them? The thought makes her frown slightly but it vanishes with another tilt of her head, listening to his remark about the Reckoning. She answers his statement with a grin of her own - smaller but every inch mischievous. "I've heard weanlings call for their milk-mothers with less complaint." Though she teases, she understands to some extent. She isn't entirely uncompassionate, despite her joke.

A few more steps and the grin fades as she considers the corner ahead. As Mesec asks her if she has found what she was looking for. "Not yet," she muses, looking forward. "But I will," she doesn't doubt. "A startalker sent me down this path, so I'll keep walking it until it ends." Turning her attention back to the pegasus and glancing up at him, she wonders: "have you thought about where your wandering might take you in Beqanna?"

[Mesec]

It’s comforting, if a little strange, how two (near) strangers could have a similar story - at least in regards to hopping from land to land. Mesec envies Aletta that she could return to the land of her birth, his own had been swallowed up and destroyed. But she has a point too, when she mentions that home is a feeling and he nods in agreement to this statement. Faces flash through his memory, enough of them to be both sad and sweet.  A crooked smile appears at her teasing and he unfolds one of his silver-lined wings just enough to nudge her gently with some of the feathers. They navigate the corner in the path before Mesec replies to her question and, unknowingly, answer her un-asked question about why he had left that peaceful place he and his family had made. “None, really. I think I was just going to wander until something or someone caused me to stop. I have an invitation to Loess, wherever that is, so I’ll check that out.”  What an odd trip to the designated recruitment land that had been. “My children grew older and restless in the peaceful place we settled in and left to create their own lives - and after the last left, I decided it was time for me to see what else was out there too. So maybe Beqanna only ends up being a stop, I’m not really sure.” Here he smiles, his wings moving a little in a shrug and he’s quiet for a few more steps before he asks in a voice absolutely brimming with youthful curiosity: “What’s a startalker?” Mesec

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@[aletta]