"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
When they are sleeping, their thoughts become more sinister.
When the moon is high and the stars bathe the land with their muted glow, the minds of those basking in the light become warped, somehow...twisted. That lucid, dream like state more often than not calls to a more feral part of them, and without prying eyes or questioning mouths to stop them, they indulge their darker natures. Much like a tiger kept caged for too long, their thoughts are ferocious and predatory, a testament to their true selves they keep carefully hidden away. He listens to all of them. Curious about some, nauseated by others...still, he listens. The daylight is no place for such monsters, but the nighttime is the devils playground.
Night is not so far off. Winter brings with her an almost everlasting darkness, but for now, the sun is fighting bravely. Already the stars have made their way above the horizon, and he pauses to admire their brightness against the oranges and yellows cast by a dying sun. He can see the moon just above the trees, and with it the promise of another interesting night. Not that he has any plans, but he cannot speak for the other who call this place home. While his thoughts are certainly not pure, they are wholly his own, unless a magician should happen his way. No, his own thoughts are tinted by the darkness he hears in others, though to a slightly lesser degree. It is, he thinks, simply a consequence of the night. If the moon can control something as significant as the tide, what chance do they stand? And so the grulla stallion settles in, his facial eyes half closed but his mental eyes scanning, looking for the newest monster to hide behind a pretty face.
I have never had a close relationship with sleep. I have wandered instead, let the starlight fall on me as I cover ground, the insatiable need to move always in the back of my mind. It got worse, after Castile trapped me in that mountain cavern. Dead, or asleep, and then pacing. Always pacing, when the world was falling apart below.
It hasn't improved, since then. True, I can fly again. And my world is no longer a stone terrace and cavern, to be circled over and over again. They drive me on though. I'm still being punished, and I sleep only when my body gives me no choice. When the world starts spinning, that's when I can rest. That's when They shut up.
I might be getting close to that now. I've walked until my joints ache, begging me to stop. The trees stutter in my vision, green, then gold, then green again. No, that can't be right... I hesitate, digging deep to force myself to focus on trees, on the stars peeking between them. Vacantlu stare until I remember what I'm looking for. Realize I'm not finding it. "Damn," I murmur, jaw set tight. I'm no longer in Sylva, I think. Wandered too far from where I meant to go. With a groan, I shif my weight to turn, surprised by how much effort it takes.
Ah. I feel my belly shift, insistent kicking at my ribs. I'm pregnant. Again. Heavily, it would seem. My throat tightens as I follow this thread of thought, trying to recall the specifics of my condition. The who and the when. Nothing. I've got nothing but the swell of my sides to tell me anything has happened at all.
Groggy and bemused, I stumble forward again, only to stop with a suddenness that makes my knees threaten to give out. A gleeful snicker echoes in my ear, quiet but still there. And then I see him. My ears flatten against my skull as the figure resolves itself in the dark. "Well, well," I snip, wings stiff on my shoulders. "Another wandering soul in the dark. How drear." My tone is clipped, impatient, and I lift my head in ragged elegance as I take the stranger in. Strangers. I blink, suddenly unsure.
There are two of them now. Identical, one grim faced, one leering. The forest turns on its axis again, leaving me with an unsettled stomach and a bitter mood. I want to sleep, desperately. Yet here are a pair of Janus gatekeepers, sent to keep me awake. "What do you want?" I growl, lips peeled away from my yellowing teeth. My body sways where it stands, while I look from one stoic face to the other. I am reminded of someone... But I can't think who. Can't think straight of anything right now.
The land is full of odd things. Odd things, mad things, and everything in between. They hide amongst the normal with surprising ease, masking themselves in one way or another. For his part, he paid them little mind, though perhaps felt a certain degree of sympathy for them. He can, after all, hear the things they hide from the world, and even an experienced telepath such as himself has trouble making sense of their thoughts.
High above, the stars shine brightly. Normally, he pays them little mind. They are simply a part of the night, and he accepts them as such. But on this night, he finds himself regarding them carefully. It is hard for him to fathom how something so far away can burn so brightly. In the Valley, the stars were dimmer, somehow, and often times blocked by the mountain peaks that reached towards the sky. Here in the forest they seem to shine brighter, and they fill in the gaps in the tree canopy with their light.
He hears her thoughts long before he sees her. It takes no effort on his part, and he finds himself shocked by the things he hears. The underbrush rattles and a mare stumbles through, and he knows immediately this is the face in front of the mind. She is a pretty thing, but her thoughts are decidedly ugly. Regarding her carefully, he stands calmly as she regains her physical bearings. When she speaks, he raises a brow. ”So it would seem.” he replies, his voice pouring from his mouth like silk, smooth and cool.
Suddenly, though, her thoughts close in on them both, like a black cloud hanging between them. Though normally he listens to other from afar and does so unabashedly, he has enough manners to not pry unless invited. But her thoughts are practically spilling from her like poisonous water. He hears the way she thinks of him in the plural, and though he knows it is only the two of them, he squares his shoulders just in case. While others had more obvious, showy gifts, his were both something to be felt and not seen. His immediate concern, however, is her frantic mental state. Ignoring her question, he stares directly into her eyes. From there, he tries to open his own mind to hers. He could force it, of course, but he isn’t sure how she would react. He tries to send her his own thoughts, and the picture of just the two of them standing there, which is reality. With only the stars to witness, he tries to soothe her tumultous mind with a healing tonic of true, factual thoughts. ”Let me in and I’ll show you the truth.” is all he says, his dark blue eyes never leaving hers.
The wasteland of her mind was pitted with years of mistreatment. Her identity was lost in the grip of her torturers. Whatever once made Sabra Sabra had been long since buried deep in her psyche, forgotten in all but the rarest of moments. Abandoned in favor of survival.
The cruel Voices that filled her head took their infernal task seriously. It was why They had been created, after all. To tease and torment, lie or tell the truth. Whichever would hurt most. It was easy to destroy a mind when you were privy to its every flaw and insecurity. Easier still to control it once the defences had been smashed. Yes, it was quite a success, They thought. Above and beyond the line of duty.
They had been enjoying their game, superimposing the duplicate man in her mind. Sometimes it's the simplest diversions that are the most fun. Her dizzy, sleep deprived mind readily accepted the falsehood, and They jeered gleefully as her fragile bravado quaked. Oh, she was a fighter, even when the war was long since lost. Always giving Them something to do, and they fondly obliged.
Until. No. No, you don't! They hissed, loudly in her mind, barely audible to the outsider. A mind-speaker, a thought projector, touching and probing at that which They'd spend so long twisting to Their liking. This interloper would not interfere.
"He lies," They whispered, sweet and assuring. "Just as they all do. Everyone you've ever loved, they lie. Why should a stranger be any different?" They felt her flinch. Take a wavering step backward into the loamy earth. Good, yes... They could feel the thoughts he wanted to offer her, doing battle with Their own creation. Her vision flickered; one man, then two again, then one. Their will against the stranger's.
It was unfortunate for him that he would attempt this on Their home turf. On the mind of one who They were so inextricably enmeshed with. Like a cancer, They had spread. It had been years since They had first been introduced to her, little seeds of doubt sewn with the stake in her breast. And she had been such fertile ground to grow in. Already full of fear and sorrow, mistrust for the world around her. Easy, easy fodder for Their endless hunger.
Leave
They ordered, doubtless that they would be heard.
She is Ours
Frozen in what seemed like fear, she remained rooted in place, a third party uninvited from her own mind. Her will was not being counted at the moment. They knew she was halfway to bolting already, but something held her in place. That last little ember of defiance that made her such an interesting host now gleamed hopeful from the crevice she had buried it in.
