"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
i feel hope deep in my bones; tomorrow will be beautiful
There is the weight of a thousand truths on his back as he wanders through the forest. There are things he understands and things he does not, and they all haunt the dark behind his eyes. He remembers seeing his parents fight, remembers the way his father disappeared into the night and never came back, and though he catches glimpses of him, the man is more ragged every time, nearly unrecognizable.
He doesn’t understand how all of this is his fault, but he knows that it is. Knows that he is the culmination of too much brokenness and so much ruin, that he is a wrongness his mother loves and his father cannot reconcile.
It makes him feel dirty in a way he’s never tried to explain to his mother. Like the wrongness is a thing that everyone can see, a crawling, creeping blackness smeared over him.
A sound pulls him from his thoughts, and it drops him from such dizzying heights that for a moment it startles him when he turns and there is only filmy dark there to greet him. He exhales, and the sound is a soft uneven snort as his ears prick forward to catch any companions that first sound might be traveling with.
But there is nothing, or at least nothing he can discern, and he is so disoriented that he forgets to ask permission when he slips into the nearest animal to borrow their eyes. For one single second his eyes - no, not his, the eyes of a large elk open on the figure of a delicate girl, and then they shift suddenly to a boy Lumos only vaguely recognizes.
Himself.
He sees a face split by scars, three claw marks furrowed over one empty eye socket. He shifts reflexively and his forelock falls across his face while the elk looks on. He is small, more like his mother than his father, though he has both of their color patterns. The black sabino of Illum and the eggshell blue of Rapture in the fractures between dark and white. He feels embarrassed when he sees the large white wings at his back (the blind have no place in the sky), and nothing when he traces the frost that stretches over every inch of his skin.
But then resistance meets him and he withdraws, and when he speaks his quiet voice holds a low note of apology. “Hello? Is anyone there?” He knows they are, of course, but perhaps they would rather be somewhere else.
12-09-2020, 10:35 PM (This post was last modified: 12-09-2020, 10:36 PM by Olena.)
Even in her wildest dreams - the ones brought to life by her mother - she could never have fathomed the still silence of a forest. It is so unlike the volcanic peninsula that has become her homestead; the trees themselves stand like stoic sentinels frozen in time. She feels safe beneath the fractured and twisting branches that crisscross in a thatched canopy above her, even when the rays of the sun aren’t able to pierce through the leaves and touch the deep gold and navy of her skin.
The winged girl walks cautiously over underbrush and bramble, her thin and dark legs carrying her slowly and precisely. She is tired, her bones ache and her lungs burn, but the soft flutter of heart keeps her moving forward - the forest enchants her, more so than any of her daydreams could ever.
A familiar, steady voice hums deeply in her mind.
We should rest, Olena.
She huffs, her obsidian wings ruffling at her tawny sides in objection. But she does come to a halt, much to her disappointment. Rilian is often right.
The large and regal bull elk shifts somewhere in the shadows beyond, always close by. Olena lifts her thin face to the sky that she cannot see beyond the trees, her dark-lined ears flickering to listen to the sound of his large body shifting through the place he knows so intimately. She can see the menacing shadow of his large form, his antlers proud and somewhat terrible as they protrude from his crown (a sight that still makes Olena’s insides run cool, knowing he has used them for many battles before they had bonded).
Rilian snorts unhappily with a grunt, surveying the darkening forest with an equally dense gaze, allowing Olena her peaceful visit to his home - one she had been looking forward to for quite some time. He had worried about her ability to travel, but part of him knew that she would make the trip with or without his guidance. Even now his dark gaze flickers over her subtly, unable to keep himself from watching for signs of her ailment physically revealing itself. When he looks to her, though, her dark navy eyes are lost in the tangles of the canopy (daydreaming, no doubt, as she always does) and he is sure that thoughts of her own health are not at the forefront of her mind.
The raven-winged girl does not notice her companion’s eyes when they glow ethereally, but she does notice that quiet feeling of uncertainty that suddenly curls up tightly within her. When her face lowers, those blue patterns across her delicate cheekbones only punctuate her soft expression of surprise, concern hardening the edges of her features as something like fear pricks the back of her neck.
There is a pause in the shadow where all movement ceases and Olena can feel her breath catching in her throat. She can feel the familiar sensation of her disappearing; it always begins in her legs, wavering and falling into nothingness to allow her to phase through the trees and away from any danger.
Then, breaking the quiet, comes a voice that is not Rilian’s and causes Olena’s dark mouth to open in a gentle gasp as her eyes quickly find the boy who had found her. She blips out of sight - but only for a second - before she reappears a moment later a few feet further away from where she had been, phasing through the tree that had been directly behind her.
As Olena smooths her raven-like wings against her abdomen and peeks her slender head out from behind the tree, the stag appears beside her at once in near silence. His head lowers threateningly, taking a sweeping step before Olena to hide her frail body behind the bulk of his own. The winged-girl shifts to the left of him by taking a few dainty steps, peering around his shoulder cautiously with curious, navy eyes. She steps around Rilian, dismissing his menacing stance with a touch of her dark muzzle to the sharp musculature of his shoulder. He snorts sharply, lifting his great antlered head with a ripple of his lips into something like a snarl, subdued by Olena herself but not keen on investigating the one who borrowed his sight.
“It’s just me,” she replies quietly, so soft and uncertain, ducking her head slightly when she realizes this stranger would have no idea who ‘me’ is. Her eyes trace him carefully, her heart fluttering excitedly as the white of his wings seem to glow angelically in the shadow of the forest. She has yet to see the rough scaring that runs jagged across one side of his face and even if she had, she doesn’t think it would have been something that stops her from taking a few more precise steps towards him. “Just Olena.” She smiles when she says her name, though it is somewhat sadly.
Behind her, she hears Rilian shifting his weight, grunting and then moving further into the wood - to observe this stranger from another angle, no doubt.
“Are you looking for someone?” It’s a question that always rests on her lips for she, as always, was looking for adventure despite the odds always being stacked against her.
12-11-2020, 10:36 AM (This post was last modified: 12-11-2020, 12:40 PM by lumos.)
i feel hope deep in my bones; tomorrow will be beautiful
It is unnerving to be blind in this precarious moment, sightless in the face of those he has already managed to intrude upon. He does not know whose eyes he had borrowed, though he can tell by the way those eyes had looked down at his companion that the creature must be large. He can also tell, though it is more of a guess drawn from logical conclusions and less from any kind of sturdy certainty, that there is a bond between them. It is in the way the girl had looked at Lumos (not Lumos, of course not Lumos) with such gentle worry, such easy affection.
That, more than anything, makes him feel out of place among the pair of strangers in this forest.
He is quiet for so long, holding his breath and the beats of his heart, holding his thoughts as close to his chest as he knows how. He doesn’t know what happens next, isn’t sure if he should stay or go or if these strangers have already gone. They are so quiet, until they aren’t. Until a few footsteps, not equine, break the silence, and a girl’s voice follows them like an echo.
It’s just me.
Her voice is like a melody, soft and sweet and in a song he’s certain he’s never heard before. It is delicate and fragile, but not weak, and the burning curiosity to see her face again hits him with a ferocity that is almost disabling. He’s already lost the details of her in his sudden fear, can’t recall the color of her eyes or the shape of her face beneath her forelock, isn’t even sure if he remembers the shade of her hair - though it might have been dark like his.
Just Olena.
He decides in an instant that her name is as beautiful as the sound of her voice, and the way he imagines he can hear the hint of a smile in the shape of her lips makes him smile too. His is subtle, almost wary, but it curves across his mouth like shy midnight. “I’m Lumos.” He tells her, and he does not mention that he thinks she sounds like more than a ‘just’.
There is a sound nearby, the sound of movement and vegetation crushed beneath hooves, and for a moment his face jerks blindly in that direction. But the sound disappears and after one long, distrustful moment he shrugs it away. She asks if he is looking for someone and he shakes his dark head, turning back towards the sound of her voice. “I don’t know anyone.” He says, and his words are as gentle as the quiet of his body language. “I think I may have upset your friend.” He admits after a moment, and the words taste full of bitter sorry on his tongue. And then, “Are you looking for someone?”
She doesn’t know that it’s her that causes the tiny semblance of a smile to creep along the darkness of his mouth and she is sure that even if she wasn’t, she is glad to see it all the same. Olena can feel the vibration of Rilian’s displeasure, tugging gently at her core. It is not uncommon for him to be aloof and stand-offish, as he would much rather move through the forest in silence, lest they be discovered by someone less than companionable. But she ignores him, as she often does (for she hasn’t a reason yet to be as cautious and distrusting as Rilian is; life is sweet and gentle, despite her ailments, and she cannot fathom anyone trying to hurt her purposely). And when she sees this boy’s smile it only solidifies her beliefs, because how can the shyest smile that he gives her mean any more than just that? Malintent could never cross his soft features, she decides, and with a courage that is unneeded, she takes a few steps closer to the boy in the shadows.
“Lumos,” she repeats with a soft voice, almost as if it was more for herself than anything else.
Olena’s slender face follows as his head turns suddenly, though her movement is slow and unhurried. She knows that it is Rilian, hidden within the depths of shadows, protecting her. He knows there is no need - yet - to have concern for the winged (and sight-borrowing) equine that converses with his bonded, but he is relentless and lets his guard down rarely.
It is when he finally turns his head back to look at her again (but not quite - his gaze doesn’t quite meet hers) that she realizes that something is amiss. She isn’t able to think on it any longer, however. “No one?” The curious look on her face is only made more expressive by the clouded leopard markings that adorn her cheeks and brows, an unsure frown forming on her mouth. It made her sad to think that he didn’t know anyone and her heart wrenches for him. “Well, you know me. That’s one more than yesterday.” The frown that once graced her dark lips fades, a hopeful smile replacing it.
Lumos mentions Rilian and immediately the girl turns her face towards the shadows where she knows he lurks, brooding and pensive. There is a huff in her mind and Olena can imagine the scowl on his face perfectly as he quietly says to her: He certainly did, using my eyes to see you like that. Olena frowns, wrinkling her nose slightly as she realizes her earlier thought about his sight may be correct, before turning back to Lumos to roll her eyes upwards. “Don’t worry about it, everything upsets him.” In the distance, there is an audible groan of frustration from the elk and a rustle of his cloven hooves as his large body moves further. Olena laughs gently, nickering warmly to him even though she couldn’t quite pinpoint his position in the forest. “I only speak the truth, Rilian.” The elk snorts loudly as if he might agree with her, and then there is silence.
There is a hum in her throat as her voice fades away, tilting her head somewhat. “He said you used his eyes to see me.” She states it simply, without accusation or judgment. It’s almost curious, the way it leaves her velvet lips, and the notion causes her to timidly step closer. She doesn't linger on it, for she quickly begins to answer Lumos’ question. “No, I’m not. I just wanted to explore the forest. It’s my first time here.” She lifts her head at this, proud of her accomplishment, giving it a tiny shake. “Would you like to explore with me? I can come closer, if you’d like. We could walk together.” She pauses thoughtfully when Rilian’s thoughts prod her mind, reminding her she had only stopped because she needed to rest.
“We’d have to walk slow, though. I’m not as strong as I make myself seem.”
This seems to appease Rilian, and she hears his large body begin to move further, silently allowing Lumos to join them on their exploration.
i feel hope deep in my bones; tomorrow will be beautiful
It has been a long time since he found himself wishing for his sight again, a long time since he felt that pang of poisonous regret coiling inside his gut, a feeling like life had been unkind to take that which it gives freely to so many others. But he feels it now and the emotion touches briefly in the dark and frost of his quiet face, pinching in his brow and tightening at the corners of his mouth. Had he any need to, he would’ve looked away from her, but the gesture had never grown roots in him without eyes to see the judgement of others.
She says his name, and on her tongue the word sounds fragile, delicate in some way that he is not. Like it is something she protects, something dear despite that they are little more than strangers. He cannot help but wonder if he is imagining it, if it comes from an ache inside him to feel any kind of connection in this empty dark behind his eyes. But when he tries to remember her face again, something small and kind with gentle eyes and an absent smile for everything her gaze touched, he is sure it is not imagined.
“No one.” He says, and he isn’t sure if he is agreeing with her or if he wants to hear the contrast of his voice to the gentleness of hers. He is not surprised that they sound nothing alike. And then,with a surprising new warmth blossoming warily in his chest, though the dark of him threatens to extinguish it, “Yes. Today I know Olena.” He says her name deliberately, though he is disappointed by the way it sounds different in his voice. He is too heavy, where she is like the lightness of something winged.
His head swings in the direction of the groan, and for a long time he is fighting a quiet that seems to weigh down so heavily over his dark shoulders. He is good at upsetting others, perhaps as good at it as this Rillian is at being upset, but he keeps this truth to himself, shamed by it.
And then she asks about his eyes and that shame ripples through him again, quiet and wary and growing as he lets the silence fill between them. “I did. I am usually more gentle, I apologize. I am sure it was unpleasant for him, he is justified in his dislike for me.” He smiles, but it is sad and self deprecating and it looks harsh in the lines of his face. But then she moves closer and his face goes slack, listening for the sound of her, wondering how close she intends to get. But she stops and he exhales the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“Then I will show you all the best places to visit.” He says, and he does take a step closer, pausing only at the heat radiating from her body. He reaches out to brush his mouth across her skin, and he wonders if she can feel the frost clinging thinly to his lips. “But,” and he pauses again, and this time his face turns in the direction of the elk moving through the woods, his expression curiously different now, decidedly changed. “The best tours happen after dark. Unless you have a curfew?” A small smile dances in the corners of his lips, nearly invisible except for the way his voice has changed too.
Even in the quiet shroud of the dense forest, the deep slate blue of her eyes waver curiously on every hard edge of his face (but those lines weren’t sharp to her, not really) as the little light that peeks through the forest catches each fractile of what seems like the deepest and glinting obsidian she has ever seen. Olena is not sure what she expects to see when she inspects him as carefully as she does - perhaps she is merely looking for that shadowy smile again, just to catch a glimpse of what lies beneath the surface of this mysterious somewhat-stranger. The darkened rims of her ears press towards him eagerly, her curious gaze broken by his voice and the smile that unfolds on her slender mouth. “And maybe tomorrow you will know her as well.” Olena replies to him without hesitation and even with the gentle tilt of her head, it is clear that though it sounded like a suggestion, it wasn’t one.
The blue-spotted girl heaves a gentle sigh (her attempt at appearing disgruntled, though it is something she doesn’t wear well) as their attention shifts to her tall and mysterious companion that still remains veiled by the darkness of the forest. However, when a smile finds the stallion’s lips, Olena’s face softens. For all her ailments, the look on his face is not something she has ever experienced herself and upon seeing it, cannot help but step closer. It almost seems at the last moment she remembers herself and what little she knows about him, and how much uncertainty and wariness that must surround him. She halts, those deep eyes searching his face as if she could somehow peer beyond the thickness of his forelock. Her gaze flickers across the crystalline of his skin, growing ever curious of who stands beside her.
“It’s alright, Lumos,” she replies softly, though she is not quite sure what she means to be alright. Using Rilian’s sight is what she meant, of course, but the words felt heavier - as if more clung to them than she had intended. There is a swift pause, a thoughtful one, and the rustle of her raven-wings breaks it. “Rilian has a flair for the dramatic,” Olena adds in a cheeky whisper as if Rilian wasn’t privy to her thoughts regardless of the volume of her voice.
Lumos reaches towards her carefully, searching for her, and she is sure not to make any movement as if a shift in her weight or the toss of her head might stop him. Her nostrils twitch at the refreshing cold that surprises her skin, tingling and light; a new but welcoming sensation. She curves her neck at the mention of a curfew, nearly bashful as a gentle laugh trickles from her lips. Rilian is deeper into the forest now, far enough that perhaps he could not hear their conversation, but still within range to be at Olena’s side if need be. “I don’t mind breaking a few rules now and again,” comes her reply, hushed and nearly breathless as a grin slides across her lips. Olena lips the dark tendrils of his mane lightly, careful that the gesture would not startle him. The movement is swift and she pulls her chin to her chest almost immediately with a snort. “All I know is that it better be worth it.” Her tail flicks at her ankles, pawing the damp earth beneath her with a darkened foreleg.
