And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love
All this time away and still he hasn’t learned. It seems none of the brood does - except maybe for Gale. “Sweet Gale”, Eyas thought of him. Gale who died and rose again, only to live his life as ‘Blue’, which she thinks has everything to do with how he sees their world and lives in it, among the others who Eyas feels so distant from. Islandres had given them a mild day after the storm that washed her eldest triplet ashore, and the tropical breezes stirred a warm sea behind the two horses conversing along the shore. Tiercel had only grown, in spite as well as build, and were his observation given only by mouth and not with feeling behind the phrase, Eyas might’ve let him revel in it.
But not when his emotions are so clearly testing hers. Her ears, dipped in ink and tilted forward toward him, suddenly jerk backwards to lay flat against her neck. Eyas lifted her nose and a dark sneer twisted her face. “He should’ve stayed away.” She thought bitterly.
No matter; the only womb-brother she acknowledged anymore had come and Eyas felt the annoyance drifting away like flotsam over the waves, gone where she cannot feel it hurt anymore, and her head lowered to match the way her mouth drooped into a flat line again. Behind her, Gale looked as healthy as she was sallow. The little pegasus only needed to tilt her head and look with her own eyes to see as much. His wings had changed, but she knew why. For him and him alone she smiled; from him she would never part again. “Sweet Gale.”
Gale. Tiercel named him accurately, drawing his sister’s attention back toward where he stood. He couldn’t do the name justice, but Eyas understood why - she’d been here before, shocked and in disbelief after so many years of creating a fictional version with her own powers. A phantom brother who never spoke or made a sound, but one who guided her nonetheless when she felt overwhelmed by life’s many problems. She’d never dreamed that he would return to them, and apparently Tiercel never dreamed it either.
Was it guilt that haunted him? Regret? The feeling of never belonging, of always having to look up at their family? Eyas admittedly hated him as a child, often wishing he’d go away, but when the day finally came she’d hated herself even more for ever wishing such a horrible thing. One day, she told herself, he’ll come home again. She believed that much of a triplet who was still alive, unlike the one who was most certainly dead. Here he was, then; rage poured out from him as brutal and sudden as the storm that’d beat against Islandres' shores last night, and it filled Eyas with such horrid thoughts of violence and disturbed, depraved notions of anger that she could hardly stop herself.
The whites of her eyes bled out, turning black and oil-slick, and without thinking she let the darkness chained within out for Tiercel to experience. Eyas gave her brother a most foul and rotten smile, then pulled her head back from the snap of his bared teeth before @[Gale] could intercept. She would handle Tiercel herself.
And he would feel it: her iron will and dark craft had absorbed the body of a dragon, for Beqanna’s sake. This was no plaything to her, no minor parlor trick, but the feeling of her very essence overcoming his own by infernal power. This was possession: a means to dominate one’s foe, to devour their free will and watch them squirm underneath it, if they dared. For his sake, Eyas was less savage than she ought to be - she possessed his limbs and made them deadweight underneath him, robbing him of the ability to move anywhere beyond the lunge he’d taken at her.
“Don’t presume to lecture me, Tiercel. Be quiet. Listen. If you’d done that in the first place you’d know he was truly here.” She mocked him behind a gaze as dark as a starless night. A horse’s vision had no sound; the fact that Tiercel had heard Gale speak was proof enough of his existence. “Foolish, idiotic. He shouldn’t have come.” She frowned, weakened by her own state of malnourishment and feeling a moment’s worth of control flicker from her grasp. If he fought her strings now, @[Tiercel] could break free - she nearly gave it to him anyways, exhausted as she was.
She was tired of fighting battles not worth being fought in the first place.
But not when his emotions are so clearly testing hers. Her ears, dipped in ink and tilted forward toward him, suddenly jerk backwards to lay flat against her neck. Eyas lifted her nose and a dark sneer twisted her face. “He should’ve stayed away.” She thought bitterly.
No matter; the only womb-brother she acknowledged anymore had come and Eyas felt the annoyance drifting away like flotsam over the waves, gone where she cannot feel it hurt anymore, and her head lowered to match the way her mouth drooped into a flat line again. Behind her, Gale looked as healthy as she was sallow. The little pegasus only needed to tilt her head and look with her own eyes to see as much. His wings had changed, but she knew why. For him and him alone she smiled; from him she would never part again. “Sweet Gale.”
Gale. Tiercel named him accurately, drawing his sister’s attention back toward where he stood. He couldn’t do the name justice, but Eyas understood why - she’d been here before, shocked and in disbelief after so many years of creating a fictional version with her own powers. A phantom brother who never spoke or made a sound, but one who guided her nonetheless when she felt overwhelmed by life’s many problems. She’d never dreamed that he would return to them, and apparently Tiercel never dreamed it either.
Was it guilt that haunted him? Regret? The feeling of never belonging, of always having to look up at their family? Eyas admittedly hated him as a child, often wishing he’d go away, but when the day finally came she’d hated herself even more for ever wishing such a horrible thing. One day, she told herself, he’ll come home again. She believed that much of a triplet who was still alive, unlike the one who was most certainly dead. Here he was, then; rage poured out from him as brutal and sudden as the storm that’d beat against Islandres' shores last night, and it filled Eyas with such horrid thoughts of violence and disturbed, depraved notions of anger that she could hardly stop herself.
The whites of her eyes bled out, turning black and oil-slick, and without thinking she let the darkness chained within out for Tiercel to experience. Eyas gave her brother a most foul and rotten smile, then pulled her head back from the snap of his bared teeth before @[Gale] could intercept. She would handle Tiercel herself.
And he would feel it: her iron will and dark craft had absorbed the body of a dragon, for Beqanna’s sake. This was no plaything to her, no minor parlor trick, but the feeling of her very essence overcoming his own by infernal power. This was possession: a means to dominate one’s foe, to devour their free will and watch them squirm underneath it, if they dared. For his sake, Eyas was less savage than she ought to be - she possessed his limbs and made them deadweight underneath him, robbing him of the ability to move anywhere beyond the lunge he’d taken at her.
“Don’t presume to lecture me, Tiercel. Be quiet. Listen. If you’d done that in the first place you’d know he was truly here.” She mocked him behind a gaze as dark as a starless night. A horse’s vision had no sound; the fact that Tiercel had heard Gale speak was proof enough of his existence. “Foolish, idiotic. He shouldn’t have come.” She frowned, weakened by her own state of malnourishment and feeling a moment’s worth of control flicker from her grasp. If he fought her strings now, @[Tiercel] could break free - she nearly gave it to him anyways, exhausted as she was.
She was tired of fighting battles not worth being fought in the first place.
Grey clouds roll over the hills, bringing darkness from above
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