"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
08-21-2020, 09:41 PM (This post was last modified: 08-21-2020, 09:43 PM by clarissa.)
won’t you drag the lake and bring me home again
“I am Ghaul, and we belong together.”
Those were the first words he had ever spoken to her, before Castile had caught the Pangean prince in his kingdom and sent him away with harsh words and a promise of pain if he were to ever return. Naturally that had not stopped the draconic boy and he had snuck in to see her time and time again, until Clarissa was finally old enough to sneak away from Loess and relocate permanently to Pangea. It was there that he had risen to power and she had given him a beautiful clutch of eggs, the pieces of which still litter the bottom of their nest.
His first slip-up, Jenova, had gone completely unnoticed. She had annoyed him, mocked his eyelessness, and he had taught her a lesson by ripping off her wings and murdering her. His second transgression, not long after Clarissa had worked her talons to the bone to complete their nest, had filled her with a jealous rage until he had promised his twin flame that he would return with her head, and so he did. But he had brought with him a tiny filly as well, and there was no denying that she was his daughter. Quietly she had accepted the skull and the filly as her own, but the angel does not forget.
Virgil came next, her sweet little boy who was hatched alone, without the warmth of other eggs within the clutch. His golden egg has been stored away as well, with the others in the corner of the nest, and Clarissa has kept their resting spot pristine as she awaits the arrival of their next pregnancy. She is a dutiful wife, and despite Ghaul being away more than he has been around the past few months, as busy as he is with his preparations, she knows that her place is here, with their children.
Only Phyx has vanished as well, and Frenzy with her. Virgil is gone from the nest most days as well, being brought up under his sire’s metaphorical wing much like Ghaul had done with Yadigar before his disappearance. Her nest has been empty for at least a season now, and some nights Ghaul doesn’t even return at all. The Cove is beginning to feel less like a home and more like a prison - it is beginning to seem like she is only here to bed her husband and make him feel important, and it fills her with an emotion she cannot describe.
She is not used to negative emotions, but recently Ghaul has been returning home less and less, and when he does, he does not bother to hide the scents of other women and sex on his hide. It disgusts her, though she hides it well from him; she saves her tears for when she is totally alone, and she wonders if this is what it’s like for a heart to break.
The white dragon stands along the shoreline, her talons digging deep into the black sands as she focuses on a point very far away. The tears on her warm cheeks melt away into salty vapor as she cries, for she has never in her life felt so truly alone. Castile had tried to warn her that Ghaul was wrong for her, but she had rebelled against her father-figure and denied it to his face. He was her twin flame, she had argued, letting the anger turn her against the Loessian king who had raised her.
08-22-2020, 05:31 PM (This post was last modified: 08-22-2020, 05:31 PM by Tarte.)
"
I've seen devils, i've seen saints I've seen the line between them fade
I feel strange to be back here again. When I'd left with Gar, when Ciri came after, I didn't think I'd ever have reason to stand on this shore again. That was until the angeling had fixed me in her molten gold gaze and asked me to find her mother, and hopefully bring her back to Nerine with me.
I think of my own mother as I skulk towards the shoreline. Mercurial, bitter, and foreign to any ideas of affection. Why Ciri would want anyone like that with us, I don't know. She's asked though, and I'd rather it be me than her here in hostile grounds.
I hear her before I see her.
Between one step and the next, my mind is filled with anguished thoughts. Betrayal. Wrath. Heartbreak. Tears prick at my own eyes as I near the source. Cat-like, I'm clinging to the tumbled boulders that shelter the beach, hooves crunching quietly in the gravely sand. A figure, large and luminous against the horizon stands out in my sight, until she's all I see.
I've never seen a dragon before. Not a proper one. Gar is caught somewhere between equine and reptile, a hybrid that I love even if I don't understand it. But this lady is something else entirely. Something so pure that it makes my heart plunge. I find myself frozen to the shore before I entirely reach her, and I'm not sure if it's fear or awe that holds me here. A little of both, probably.
It seems wrong to interrupt her mourning, but I promised Ciri I would find her mother, and I believe that I have. Voice tiny, I call out. "Lady-" My skinny tail whips uncertainly. Clearing my throat, I try again. "Lady Clarissa?" My ears fall into the black mats of my mane as I wait to be acknowledged.
She comes here to cry not because it is quiet, but the exact opposite - it is loud, and she cannot be heard here. Her sobs can echo against the crashing waves along the shore and she can scream and cry as the seabreeze snatches the sound of her voice from the air, pulling it out to see and vanishing with it. It is here that she can let loose all of her emotions, the ones she is becoming all too intimate with and the ones she still doesn’t have a name for. Envy. Wrath. Fear. Discontent.
Whatever they are, she doesn’t understand them. She is meant to be an angel, a being of pure light. Instead she is crumbling into something she doesn’t recognize, a monster she hasn’t seen since that day Ghaul had come crawling to her, broken and bloodied beyond recognition. When she had realized that her soulmate was nearly stripped away from her that day, it had filled her with such a rage that she had nearly bathed Beqanna with golden fire. It had only been Ghaul’s rattling breath and heartbreaking gasps that had quieted her soul, but she’s afraid she doesn’t have anything tethering her to her purity anymore.
He’s made quick work of that, burning through her as though she were nothing but a pawn.
Maybe that’s all she ever was.
In her heightened state of emotion, she doesn’t notice the magenta girl sneaking up beside her until she hears the gentle call. ‘Lady Clarissa?’ the voice says, and she whips her head towards the filly, plastering a perfectly fake smile across her face as she blinks once, twice, to clear away the tears that still fill her golden eyes. She has never met Tarte, but Gar had babbled excitedly about the magenta girl, and eventually Ciri had claimed her friendship as well - before the two of them vanished into thin air.
“Tarte, I assume,” she responds with that fake smile, pushing the words across her teeth with a false tone of happiness that is sure not to fool the child. Cirilla’s scent clings to Tarte and Clarissa’s smile falters briefly. “I assume my daughter is well. Yadigar, as well?”
She doesn’t ask where they ended up, because in the end it doesn’t matter. All she wants is for her children to be happy, wherever they are. They deserve all of the love and happiness in the world, and if that happens to be away from their mother, she is willing to accept it.