"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
He’s riding a new high since Rosebay showed him what it was like to rap his knuckles against death’s door. The fever had, in truth, felt worse, but it lacked the sense of dread that the foxglove had given him as he convulsed on the ground. But even that had finally left him unscathed once he rose from the cloud of confusion. His magic merely swiped the toxins from his blood and made his body whole once more. It would something much greater than that to end his short little life.
And something much greater seemed to rear its head in Pangea after the fires had gone out.
Crowns wanted to investigate and answer that siren call of chaos, but he remained in Tephra with his family. The ripple of that strangeness felt like something much larger than himself - larger than Eight or Isilya, even. But the world goes quiet once more.
He peeks out of the den and ensures that his parents are gone teaching the twins to swim or hunt. Then, he blinks himself to the Cove. It seems close enough to the strange goings-on for him to observe but far enough that he feels safe here. The boy gets a strange feeling that perhaps that unusual magic in Pangea couldn’t see him as well here. He wonders if Rosemary would know something about it?
The thought is enough to stir him onward in search of her. He lifts his head and calls her name as he trots along the pristine sands of the shoreline When he finally spots her with her hellcat in tow, he grins warmly and approaches.
“Rosemary! I’m glad you’re safe. I noticed all sorts of commotion in the neighboring area,” he explains, bumping her cheek gently with his nose.
Rosemary is sweet as she grows into herself. Sweet and supple but just as cutting as the sharp shadows she grew up with. There's a new danger in her eyes, a growing hunger. It rumbles and roils, desperate to overtake her like the crashing tides of a stormy ocean. She is her own sea, her own ecosystem, brimming with strange creatures and dazzling monuments to be discovered. She will not be washed away as she grows, no. Her world only widens, both brightens and darkens - she will define the ocean when it rages and when it cleanses.
When the fire burnt Pangea down, a little bit of her world burned, too.
Not because she loved the land, for she never lived there, but because she saw the way her father's face contorted - watched as her mother's eyes found deeper creases of worry. First Ghaul, now the land that defined Lie in ways he'll never admit. She felt compassion and - grief, maybe for the first time. Her first instinct was to comfort her family, to accompany her father, but he had told her must travel alone and - wouldn't it be dangerous for her, anyway?
Rose had frowned in disagreement, feeling protected in ways she thinks she's outgrown, but did not argue. Pangea was not her lover to mourn.
It was for the best, clearly, as the watery stranger Rosemary had met one fated day on the beach affectionately greeted her. Any mature introspection she was doing races from her mind: "My father went to go check it out, but he'll be all right." He will be because he has to be, because he always comes back. Rose doesn't know any better. "It didn't touch the Cove. I don't know if it's in Hyaline, too. It must mean something bad, if Carnage's land is burning . . ." she trails off, eyes tracing to the landscape beyond Crowns.
He has often wondered how his family felt when they watched Tephra burn to ash. They won’t speak of it, but the lava flows tell the story and he has seen the ghosts that haunt them. Good lives were lost and the world was darker for it. But their fire in Pangea felt different, and it was especially strange, what came after. Even Crowns doesn’t want to delve beneath the surface and find the greedy hands that ripped the raven queen away from them.
Rosemary seems worried, as she should be, and so he curls himself against her side with his wing draped over her. He cradles her close to him and rests his chin on top of her head. “Whatever it was, it’s far away now. Maybe not forever, but for a while,” he assures her in a gentle murmur. “You should stay here. That place feels all wrong and not in the exciting way.” He thinks of the dread the foxgloves had given him, and how the darkness in Pangea felt much deeper than that.
Perhaps he could distract her for a while to keep her thoughts from drifting to her concerns. He releases her from his embrace and he turns himself to face her. It isn’t very often that he gets to play with children his age, or at least not children who enjoy games. This is what he likes about Rosemary the most. She is eager for adventure in whatever shape it takes.
“Should we go somewhere fun? Name anywhere, and I’ll go with you!” he offers with a grin. Whether they walk or fly or swim, he doesn’t mind. Anything to get her far from that strange place.
Rosemary leans into Crowns' comforting embrace, closing her eyes and feeling worry and anger slowly slip from the tight grip in her chest. She's sorry she even worried herself with the land and her father that so easily brushed her aside. The anger simmers to embers of bitterness, turning her once warm chest cold.
"You're right," Rose answers with a nod, leaning away just enough to look up at Crowns through innocent lashes. Her mouth curls into a sweet, small smile and her eyes flash with something dramatic. There's no physical hint to the negative emotions stirring in the pit of her belly, but to herself she swears off Pangea. She can find monsters and darkness of her own. There's no need to follow the footsteps of her ill-fated father and brother.
Crowns steps away and Rose hums in response, eyes slitting and face creasing in some strange display of pleasure. Rose prances in place, bucking her back legs out in delight and surprise. A splash of her mane falls into her eyes as she searches for her friend's eyes, mouth falling agape as she searches for an answer to his question:
"Icicle Isle!" she blurts, spilling out the first strange place she can think of. How far away is the Isle, anyway? She thinks it'd be quite the walk, but wouldn't it be daring and adventurous and scary with just Crowns and Calypso? Isn't that what she's always longed for? "I've never been somewhere so cold. And I want annoy the prickly ice dragon everyone talks about."
