"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
08-13-2020, 08:49 PM (This post was last modified: 08-13-2020, 08:51 PM by Aela.)
Eventually, she no longer wants to deal with the shadows of the Forest. It’s not that she had minded the company (or lack of it) that she found there. There was just something about the way that the shadows cast themselves across her golden back. It nagged at the back of her mind and Aela didn’t like the obscurity it created there.
Like a half-remembered dream. There was too much haze and time to peer through to determine why and so the yearling had snorted, shaking her doubts away.
Here in the present, there was plenty for her to remember. Stepping out from beneath the treeline, she basked in the attention of the summer sunshine. The light caught at her knees and hocks when she stepped through the Meadowgrass, revealing gold that glinted off the sunbeams. When Aela lifted her head or turned to look in another direction, a blue sheen caught the attention of the light.
Even though she was told often enough, Aela knew she was lovely. That much was reflected in her high steps or the proud way she held herself. When she glanced behind her, something captured her attention. Something more substantial than a memory. Something more than a ghost.
And even though something told her to keep her distance, Aela turned around. Whatever was there vanished beneath the trees. Some part of her was loath to return there but as the golden yearling approached, she decided to try something. When she stopped, Aela lifted a striped forelimb and let it start to softly glow.
A little bold, perhaps. It’s another experiment, she decides. Now she just has to wait and see if anything will happen.
Almost as soon as Beyza arrives in the common areas, she’s not sure why she had come. She looks at the scattered horses, some mingling and some just moving on, and feels no desire to approach any of them. None of them are familiar, none of them are who she would like to speak to or the company she would like to keep. She doesn't even know who she was hoping for, all she knows is that they aren't here.
So she goes to disappear back into the trees, blurring her edges as she does - until she’s mostly mist and drifts through trees and branches. Her mind is wandering, it is everywhere and nowhere, and it feels like mere chance that she spots the figure from the corner of her eye. Curious, Beyza watches like a ghost from the shadows as the chestnut girl approaches the trees - lifting a forelimb and then a golden glow appears.
Like a lure for a fish.
Well, just call Beyza a minnow because it works. She moves forward, solidifying and carefully winding her way around the few trunks that separate them. There is a soft white glow around her, breaking apart the shadows she moves under. Her white eyes don’t blink as she considers the younger girl. “I like your glow.” She says, though she only half means it. She likes her own better - but she wonders what it would be like to be wreathed in gold instead of the cool moonlight she constantly surrounds herself with. Did the gold feel warm like sunlight?
08-31-2020, 06:18 PM (This post was last modified: 08-31-2020, 06:19 PM by Aela.)
Beyza moves like a ghost and perhaps that's why Aela notices her almost immediately.
Her ghosts always carry emotions. The golden yearling had learned from a young age to keep a distance from others. To come too close to another soul posed the risk of flashing images of heartbreak and loneliness, of anguish and rage; there have been a few occasions where she has been surprised (like Kensley and Meyer) by the control or lack of emotions that another can possess. It's those few occasions that keep her standing still with an inquisitive tilt to her chin. Her blue-eyed gaze doesn't move away from the wispy Magician nor does the filly lower her leg. Her attention on the young mare approaching her makes Aela lose focus on the glow and it momentarily becomes too bright, nothing like the soft glow that @[Beyza] herself emits.
Aela blinks as the brightness overtakes her sight and she stomps the alluring limb down harshly.
Where Aela has been forced to close her eyes, Beyza does not and that makes the filly all the more curious. She has to blink a few more times before her vision comes back to her but the all-white... doesn't. To add even more mystery to the mare in front of her, she radiates nothing to Aela besides the soft aura she carries. There is something more to the mare; there is just no sadness, no happiness, no depression that she can sense. (The memory-giver won't say that there is nothing because there is something, it's just something that her own abilities don't allow her to see.)
That should frustrate her.
It, oddly, doesn't.
I like your glow, says the other and a rarity emerges. A small, impish smile forms on the edges of the girl's mouth. She nods her head in acknowledgment of the compliment and unable to voice a return one borrows it from Beyza instead, projecting the memory towards her. A vision that shows the illuminating mare from another angle, one that if Aela could color emotionwith would show her fascination with the achromatic creature.
It is… beyond words when Beyza feels the memory pushed out from the chestnut girl and into her own mind. She allows it - welcomes it - because instantly her curiosity is sparked and she wants to see what this gift is. Beyza doesn’t expect to see herself and a very gentle gasp escapes her. She looks otherworldly and beautiful standing there, all white amidst the lush greenery of the forest.
But she also doesn’t look alive, either. A pretty little statue, a finely carved corpse. Something that does not quite belong here, among everyone else.
She is unsettled at this confirmation of something she has felt for a while now. That she is apart in some way, even if it is only of her own making. The discovery that she had been magically conceived had only serve as more evidence towards this line of thinking and little by little she moves away from that shiny happy filly brimming with life and light.
A rare blink breaks her focus on the memory and though she is a little disappointed that it begins to fade in her mind, it ignites a fascination in the stranger before her. How had she done that?
“Thank you.” She says, even though she could not explain exactly what she was thanking her for. It was intended as a compliment, she thinks, and had only indirectly sparked a personal crisis. She could not (should not) hold that against the girl with the golden glow. “I’m Beyza.” She offers, more to buy herself time to get her thoughts under control. In her distraction, she has not yet noticed that she's the only one to speak so far.
09-03-2020, 04:00 PM (This post was last modified: 09-03-2020, 04:06 PM by Aela.)
It's funny that Beyza feels as if she doesn't belong. It's not as if Aela doesn't feel accepted - she has been adored by her mother, Kota. She has been loved and nurtured and there is no shadow of doubt anywhere in her upbringing that makes her think to otherwise (if anything, it has made the golden girl a little too sure of herself). Aela knows that she will always belong beside Kota and there will always be a space for her alongside her pale mother.
It's just that they never leave Taiga. Nobody leaves Taiga. In some unspoken proclamation, the Northerner's keep to themselves, and Aela has never understood why. There is a hunk of burnt rock in the ocean, more rocks in Nerine, and enough fog to stay perpetually lost in Taiga. She's heard the rumors and knows that they stay under the veil of Magic from Nerine because of monsters. But Aela has never seen one in the North. She has never even seen one in all her errant wanderings to the Common Lands.
Glancing up at the all-white @[Beyza], she certainly doesn't look like one.
Aela tilts her head slightly to the right, sweeping up the woman in her blue-eyed gaze. Where had all her color gone? she wonders. There is a practiced edge to the young mare as well because there is nothing that she can sense coming from her. It allows the yearling to draw closer and perhaps that makes her memories that much stronger, that much easier for Beyza to see. There is no explanation as to why nothing colors her and the only thing that is offered is a compliment. (It's one of the few times that Aela wishes she could speak, that she could tell the lovely thing in front her of that she is captivating).
What Beyza asks is easy enough to project back. There is a memory of spotted Kota smiling at her and saying her name Aela. There is another of gray Kensley who tries it out, who says it with something like wonder on his tongue as he looks down on her.
Her ears prick and it makes the filly curious. How will Beyza say her name?
Beyza is a little more prepared for it this time, when the memories come. They are a little stronger, thanks to the smaller distance between them, and clearer. First there is a spotted mare and then someone she recognizes. It’s a curious thing, to see Jamie and Liv’s father in a memory from this girl - saying her name. It makes her start for a moment, but of course those that live in Pangea exist outside of when she sees them. She should not be so surprised that those she knows will have wandered and met others.
She knows nothing of Kensley except his relation to three of the horses she holds dear.
This means of communicating is slow, but fascinating, and Beyza finds herself smiling just a little when she tries out the name of the girl before her for the first time. “Aela.” The way Beyza says it is an echo of how Kensley had - the wonder in her voice is mimicked more than it is natural. It is just a name, after all, though she supposes it is one that is kind to the tongue.
But then, perhaps to just make things easier, she makes an offer - her white eyes unblinking but not unkind. “Would you like to talk?” Beyza asks rather bluntly, though there's a current of trepidation in her voice when she makes the offer. It causes her demeanor to change temporarily, caution lining her body. She always just wants to help but she's too wary of the times when she's been turned down for just wanting that simple thing for her to have much confidence in the offer any more. “I can help, at least while we're together, if you wish it.”
09-16-2020, 02:05 PM (This post was last modified: 09-16-2020, 02:08 PM by Aela.)
There is always a sense of achievement in Aela when the memories come through. Her mother had never asked anything of her - she just spoke aloud(for what the almost-palomino filly considers her benefit). Because of the amount of time she spent with her dam, Aela has always assumed that was why Kota always knew what she was asking or what she might be thinking.
(And there is only one horse that she shares a connection with that doesn’t require the use of her echoes. The blue roan often takes on so many shapes in Taiga, Aela never knows when to expect her).
But Beyza had heard her name rippling from the Magic between them and the lopsided smile she gives the white Magician is a proud one. She has no voice but she has her gift and she is proud of this ability that allows her to speak, that makes her memories so clear. (Was there something else there, images lurking beneath the memory of Kensley?)
Only, its what the curious mare says that makes her start. Shock widens her blue eyes and the smile vanishes briefly, turning into a thin line of confusion instead. Aela has never thought of her lack of a voice as a disadvantage but… but the chance for somebody to hear her is such a startling (and exciting!) offer.
She nods her head once to make the communication between them clear and looks up to the pale woman. How?
The nod sense a flush of joy through Beyza - it’s a pleasure when someone actually agrees to let her use her magic. Her mood lightens considerably and she can feel a spark of excitement light static in her veins. Aside from a new warmth in her expression, though, she’s careful not to look too excited - lest she scare this new friend away.
“I have this magic and it… well, it likes to help.” Although the visual isn’t exactly needed, Beyza calls on some small wisps of mist that float through the air and towards the gold-accented girl. If she doesn’t move, they’ll curl around her throat - feeling cool and soothing where they land.
She thinks of Jamie and her healing mists and how he had told her he didn’t want to become addicted to the feeling, addicted to her.
Part of her still wonders what would be so bad about that - could she foster some sort of dependency with Aela by helping her to speak? She keeps these thoughts quiet, hidden, because she can’t deny that there is some sense of delight at the concept - even though she knows aiding someone to speak is different than relieving them of a pain so bone-deep it affects them to their core.
Beyza’s already too-few blinks are spaced even farther apart as she concentrates, half-healing half-creating until she thinks she’s given working vocal cords to the other girl. Only when she’s done does she blink, breaking the spell and causing the mist to dissolve. “I’ve never given someone a voice so… I hope that worked.” Nerves start to settle in and Beyza shifts slightly on her white hooves - watching and listening and hoping that everything cooperated.
10-01-2020, 09:12 PM (This post was last modified: 10-01-2020, 09:13 PM by Aela.)
Aela waits. She tries her hardest to be patient (but that is a hard thing to do when one has only had a year to measure time by and the air between the pair is charged with electric excitement.) The palomino-looking filly stands with those blue eyes bright and vibrant, trying to find the source of the Magic that Beyza claims likes to 'help'.
(Aela likes to help as well, but her Magic always seems more interested in aiding her rather than others - not that she minds overmuch.)
Her gaze widens and she swallows, a moment of trepidation as the mists move forward and eventually wrap around her throat. The yearling's heart starts to race and she looks up, peering into the timeless face of Beyza for support. The presence of the other steadies her and the Magician is the reason why the girl doesn't do more than shuffle her weight uneasily between her hooves, why she doesn't more than anxiously flick her flaxen tail from haunch to the other.
It feels like Taiga's fog drifting down her windpipe. When the mist disappears beneath her golden coat and wraps around her vocal cords, it feels no different than if she had taken a deep breath near the western shore of the Redwoods. A spot where the forest meets the ocean. It is cool and refreshing and Aela finds that the sensation is not an unpleasant one.
She tries - reaching - for a sound. In her excitement, perhaps she strains too much or aims too high (though Aela will always be destined for perfection). Nothing comes and her expression changes to disappointment. Why hadn't it worked? Had she done something wrong? She had felt the Magic. She had felt it and-
"Ay," the partial word slips from her pale lips. Lifting her shocked face to Beyza, the sound of her own voice surprised her. "Ayza," she says slowly and blinks at the marvel. "@[Beyza]," Aela finally says putting the word together and flashes a bright grin of accomplishment up to her companion.
Beyza had, incorrectly, assumed that Aela had talked before but somehow lost the ability. Perhaps that a magical spell had been cast around the girl and rendered her mute.
So she was not prepared for the flood of emotions that came with the realization that her name was the first word Aela had ever spoken. A lightness that is too-rare in the serious girl shines in her face as soon as she realizes what Aela is trying to say - and then the bright smile Aela wears when she accomplishes the feat is mirrored by a dazzling one in Beyza’s eyes.
She's delighted that her magic worked and honoured more than she might have expected.
The smile softens the “That’s wonderful!” that slips out, making it (hopefully) impossible to misinterpret - because it really was absolutely genuine and not condescending at all. She thinks her mother or father might’ve said something like that to her and her twin when they first spoke, though the memories of that happy time are wrapped up in a haze she can not quite seem to get through.
She feels proud of Aela in a way similar to what she feels when Caledonia does something (anything).
Not knowing how to speak that feeling out loud, she tries to push it out across the distance between them, hoping it’s not strange because it feels so wonderful.
Not knowing what else to say, she asks a question with (theoretically) a simple answer - one that could either be spoken or shown to her, an offer to give the other girl a chance to practice or not as she chose. “Where are you from?”
