"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
( this world will have the wolves outside your door
make you leave all that you love to fight a war
and never tell you what you're dying for )
He is shot through with things that glow.
Vibrant tattoos splashed across his face, a halo tipped low across his brow.
He is his own light source.
And he believes, perhaps foolishly, that this is enough to keep him safe.
He has been protected from the darkness by his parents, shielded from the things that move through the shadows. Monsters, he thinks they’re called, though he is too young to know the true meaning of the word.
He loiters at the sea’s edge now, though if not for the waves that break constantly against the shore it would look more like a black chasm than water. He dips his nose into the surf and exhales sharply, studying the glint of his halo on the water’s surface.
He does not know how far he has wandered from his parents. Or from his sister, who has been his constant companion since before they had emerged into this world of darkness.
(He’s heard rumors of the world that existed before this one. A world of night and day where some strange orb glowed in the sky. A world of seasons and stars.)
Something stirs behind him, further up the beach and he turns sharply. A nearby boulder explodes as fear grips his heart and his pulse accelerate. He has no way of knowing that he is responsible for the explosion, he knows nothing about the magic involved, and he reads it as a threat.
“I’m not afraid of you!” he calls into the darkness, his voice shaking.
02-09-2021, 06:51 PM (This post was last modified: 02-09-2021, 06:52 PM by Cheri.)
The light that meets the dark
She remembers it. The glowing seasons, when the sun still rose and set as it ought to.
Cheri was sunlight-born and bred; a child of better days when their world seemed full of hope and promise. Now? Now she’s just making it one sleep cycle at a time, like the rest. Her days consist of comfort, security, and friendship. Not much different than the days preceding the Eclipse, only that she hardly remembers the light or its purpose in shining. One fine day (evening, morning, afternoon… time escapes her) she wakes and unfurls her wings of light, grown stronger only by her use of personal magic, and she decides that she’ll try flying.
Why not? They exist, don’t they? They must have some purpose beyond that. If not, they’d be terrible at getting her off the ground, which they weren’t. Cheri could hover and glide a few paces, and she reasoned that if she had the space she could probably get lift.
And that’s exactly how she ended up flapping her way haphazardly over the sea, navigating the little inlet of water that separated her home forest from the shoreline of Silver Cove. By accident, she’d caught a stray gust of wind and it blew her higher than she intended, taking the yearling filly out towards uncharted waters, and then she’d fought to stay afloat instead of crashing into the water. Now she was swinging into a wild landing, careening one way and then back the other as she flew progressively lower and lower.
When she landed, Cheri stumbled toward the nearest cover she could find. A large boulder supplied enough camouflage, and she ducked into its shadows with a newfound appreciation for her black coat. Nervously, she caught her breath. This was not home; the place she’d touched down on was nothing like Taiga, so she’d better rest and wait here before trying to fly back. It would’ve been a perfect plan too, if the boulder hadn’t blown apart minutes later and left her exposed, looking out at the beach with terror gripping her thoughts.
What the hell, she thought, jerking sideways and clenching her light wings close to her sides. Cheri had a lapse of time where she was disconnected - the boulder exploded and she could only stand there and stare, realizing it wasn’t her that had ripped apart - before the other horse yelled, “I’m not afraid of you!” At a loss for words, she yelled back “I come in peace!” Hoping that the next thing he dissolved wouldn’t be herself.
( this world will have the wolves outside your door
make you leave all that you love to fight a war
and never tell you what you're dying for )
His heart thumps out something panicked.
He swallows hard and takes a half-step toward the voice.
There is nothing inherently sinister about the voice but the boulder had shattered and he struggles to reconcile those two facts in his mind. If the stranger comes in peace as they claim, what explanation was there for the explosion?
He drags in a shuddering breath and tries to carve the last dregs of his courage out of the depths of his gut. For as fiercely as he’d claimed to not be afraid, his knees tremble something terrible as he searches for whatever bravery will carry him across the rest of the space that separates them.
He can barely make her out through that terrible darkness, guided by the pale green glow of her wings. She is not familiar and he wonders where she’s come from. From what he can make out, she does not appear to be much older than he is and he is immediately filled with a new worry. She shouldn’t be out here by herself. No more than he should be out here by himself, he thinks. (But there is the nagging thought that she had been responsible for the exploding boulder and he should be wary of her even if she does not appear to be one of the monsters who belongs to the darkness.)
“Who are you?” he asks, trying still to sound much braver than he feels. He has no responsibility to protect his home against interlopers, that’s what the viper’s for, but he has his suspicions about those who prey on weakness.
“Why did you explode that boulder if you come in peace?” he demands, his voice still shaking.
Out across the shoreline, with the crash and lull of waves in her ears, Cheri could faintly see the other horse standing their ground. Everything, everything was cast in hazy grays and black. The sky was that same telltale color it’d been since the Eclipse, lending darkness to Cheri’s already ink-black fur. If she didn’t glow, (and if she could see herself from the stranger’s eyes) she could see how, if not for her glowing markings and barely-lit wings, she might be mistaken for a deadly creature of the night.
They were multiplying, after all. Changing and getting sneakier at their nefarious craft. When her father returned from border patrol once, Cheri had overheard him whispering to her mother that a bypasser had seen a monster parading around as someone they knew. They’d barely escaped death, but hoped to warn whomever they could on their way home to the Islands. Cheri hadn’t slept for days after that, too afraid of the possibility that the spawn of hell itself could masquerade as her father, or her mother… even Rey.
The other horse - whoever they were - was right to be on their guard.
“I got caught in a draft while practicing with my wings.” Cheri explained as the other horse approached. Her eyes, perhaps unseen in the dark, caught what little light there was to see by when they rose from underneath her feathery lashes to try and make out her captor. “I struggled just to reach this beach, and then I landed. I swear - if the boulder exploded because of that, I didn’t mean for it to.” She told him softly, trembling.
What was he going to do to her? Time and time again her father had warned her: do not go east, if she had to wander at all. Hyaline was to be avoided and Pangea was strictly off-limits for her, and of course she knew by proxy that the little territories therein also counted when Yan had been telling her all of this, but Cheri had thought she was being clever when she purposefully flew out over the cover earlier today. He hadn’t explicitly said not to do that, had he? Now look at her.
Every fear she’d ever had pounded into her by her parents suddenly caught like a lump in her throat. Invisible in the darkness, hot tears of anxiety rose in her eyes and blurred Cheri’s vision. He was going to hurt her, wasn’t he? She’d trespassed and broken something of theirs, and now she was going to suffer because of it. Poor pappa Yan, and mother Ama. They would miss her so much. And Reynard and Memorie - Cheri would miss them.
“Please.” Cheri found her voice, and a little sliver of hope with it. “I’m very tired. I won’t run away, so please - don’t attack me.”
( this world will have the wolves outside your door
make you leave all that you love to fight a war
and never tell you what you're dying for )
It becomes abundantly apparent that the filly is just as afraid as he is and even if it had been her who’d shattered the boulder it had clearly been an accident. It had not occurred to him that she might also be afraid, especially with how thoroughly his judgment had been clouded by his own fear, and he visibly deflates when he hears the tremor in his voice.
When he’s close enough, he studies the scattered remains of the boulder. There’s no logical explanation for how her landing could have caused the boulder to explode but he doesn’t feel any overwhelming urge to dwell on this. He’s far more eager to believe that she’s friend rather than foe now, he’s willing to overlook things that don’t seem to make sense in order to reach the most convenient conclusion.
They’re almost close enough now to be cast in each other’s glow and he can see that they are roughly the same age. He huffs out something sideways, almost says something about how she shouldn’t be out flying by herself but remembers that he’s out by himself and stops himself before he opens his mouth.
His expression crumples when she speaks next and he frowns hard. (Though there is some small part of him that is proud of himself for being able to sound much tougher than he’d felt). Did she really think he would have attacked her? He shrinks, ducking his head, peering at her with a kind of sadness in his dark blue eyes.
“You really think I’d attack you?” he asks, clearly wounded. “I’m just a kid,” he adds, as if children are incapable of bad things. He shrugs after a moment, as if all is forgiven. “We should probably stick together until you’re feeling better if boulders are just exploding around here. What’s your name? Mine’s Starlore.”
02-26-2021, 12:09 PM (This post was last modified: 02-26-2021, 12:09 PM by Cheri.)
The light that meets the dark
Every second ticked by like a minute, and Cheri felt outside of herself. Like she wasn’t there in the moment, only she was and it seemed very confusing to her mind. She cast her eyes on the pebbles strewn around her, studying their various shapes and sizes until the black curvature of another horse’s hoof slid into sight. Interrupted, Cheri looked up; the colt blew sideways and she flinched, regretfully. To her surprise he didn’t seem much older than she was, and if she had to guess Cheri might venture they were born during the same season. He’d looked so sinister from far away… or had that been her fear talking, all this time?
Those dark lashes of hers came down once or twice.
“I… I’m not sure what I thought.” She answered his defeated expression, hesitant to relax. Was he really sad? Or just trying to ease up on her, get her to feel calm before the kill? He shrugged, silently answering Cheri’s absurd fears as if he’d guessed her thoughts, and for the first time since landing here Cheri’s legs stopped trembling. Maybe he wasn’t going to hurt her after all.
But stick with her?
“Oh, no, I…” Cheri’s tongue stumbled over itself. “Um, Starlore was it? I’m Cheri.” She shifted around tensely, feeling how numb her joints had become from standing in one place for so long. “Thank you - first of all. For your kindness. But I can’t, you know, stay here. Exploding boulders or not.” The black filly explained, wings fluttering.
The thought of it! Staying here, in the East, sticking with another yearling! A colt, she reminded herself. Cheri glanced aside and then back at the curiously sad horse, who stared out at her from the umbrella’s glow of his golden-white halo, so sure of himself and his decisions. Would it be such a bad thing? Defying her father for just a little while, getting the chance to see a place she’d never seen before… Could be amazing.
( this world will have the wolves outside your door
make you leave all that you love to fight a war
and never tell you what you're dying for )
The child knows so little about politics, about the viper who looks after the Cove. He has never felt any need to wander any further than the border and his parents have never felt any need to warn him about Gospel, so he merely shrugs, his golden mouth turned down at its corners in a thoughtful frown. He is too young to know much about consequences either. (Except, of course, he knows that there are monsters that lurk in the dark and he’ll feel real guilty if any harm finds her because he let her wander off on her own.)
He squints into the shadows that seem to stretch on for eternity, as she insists that she can’t stay. He hadn’t really been suggesting that she stay forever, just until she built up enough energy to fly home. He wrinkles his nose and turns his focus back to her.
“Well, you don’t have to stay but you probably shouldn’t wander off on your own either,” he says. He tilts his head, his halo following the movement, tipping low on his brow. “Listen, Cheri, I’m not going to forgive myself if something bad happens to you while you’re here and you said you were tired, so at least let me walk with you until you’re feeling up to flying home.”
Had he been aware that he was capable of being so bossy? He’d bossed his sister around plenty but they had a tendency to steer clear of most of the other children in the Cove, mostly because the other children were vipers and dragons and were pretty scary.
He stands there, holding the filly’s gaze as steadily as he can, trying to convey his seriousness with his eyes.
Cheri watched Starlore’s halo dip and bob above his head as if it were a floaty thing, attached by some invisible string behind his ears. Whenever he shifted or spoke it bounced in response, following along like some strange companion animal made of light, but Cheri doubted it was alive. She wondered idly whether it served any purpose aside from looking aesthetically interesting, (as if she wasn’t covered in useless objects herself) and found through her strange curiosity that she no longer feared what might happen to her out in ‘questionable territory’, as Yanhua might’ve said. Starlore truly seemed the harmless type, even if he was kind of blunt about it, which made Cheri slightly more eager to give into his demands than she would've been if he'd acted any differently.
“If you insist.” She shrugged her wings absently, trying not to smile. The generous offer he was saddling her with was nice, she thought, and it also doubled as the perfect excuse for staying put in the red zone for a little while. A little walk, a little talk, and he sticks around as an escort. What could be more reasonable than that? She could already picture telling her father as much.
“I am tired.” Cheri reiterated, letting her wings droop at the thought. She looked around them at the darkness unfamiliar to her and had to admit that maybe Starlore was right to press her into his companionship, even if he did seem like the politely aggressive sort. Cheri could hardly tell left from right in the woods back home; she relied on the familiar paths and places she’d learned as a child born in sunlight. Out here, she’d be a walking target. “Do you know where to find fresh water?” The black-cloaked mare asked him, turning back to catch Starlore’s eye.
She guessed he could take that as a yes, to his proposal. Cheri would stay and put his mind at ease, if the life of a stranger from the North meant so much to him, and secretly she would be able to catch a glimpse inside the life of an Eastern horse. It was perfect—almost too perfect—but Cheri found the temptation irresistible either way. She promised herself to be on silent guard around Starlore, regardless of any angelic glow or charmingly dominant personality, and pulled her hooves delicately together through the night-washed sands of Silver Cove, waiting to follow.
( this world will have the wolves outside your door
make you leave all that you love to fight a war
and never tell you what you're dying for )
He half-expects her to flee, though she’d promised not to run. And what would he do? He’d promised not to attack her, so he’d have no choice but to watch her go and live with the guilt of knowing that he’d let her disappear into the darkness and hadn’t even tried to call her back. It would be an awful lot of weight to carry with him the rest of his life, never knowing whether or not she made it home unscathed by the wicked things that lurked in the shadows.
But she does not flee. Finally, she relents and he has to fight to keep his chest from swelling with pride. He will not boast, no matter how badly he wants to. He will not gloat or strut, though he does allow himself a little grin when she shrugs her wings in surrender. This is no small victory, he knows. He has a sister, he is acutely aware of how stubborn fillies can be.
He doesn’t know how much energy it takes to fly, neither he nor Stargaze had inherited their father’s wings, but he can imagine that it takes a lot when you’re young. So it’s fortunate that she landed on this side of the Cove and not the other side, otherwise they would have had to have trekked through the mountains to reach fresh water.
“There’s a lake not far from here,” he says brightly and there’s an edge of pride in his voice that suggests that he is solely responsible for the location of the lake. He turns in that direction, grateful for all of the ways that he throws light and her glowing wings, too. It will be plenty of light to discourage any monsters that might have any ideas about sinking their teeth into the yearlings, he thinks. Hopes.
“Where are you from, Cheri?” he asks, picking his way up the beach and onto the long stretch of wilted plains that lead to the lake.
Well, Starlore’s attitude took an upturn quickly. Cheri wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she followed her new guide anyways without even looking back to check the beach one more time. Maybe her father had been wrong in assuming the East was full of reckless, dangerous horses. Starlore seemed just the opposite, he was so animated and alive with colorful light. He talked as if he was happy to be given the task of watching over Cheri, as if he’d been reared properly with manners and knew how best to ease the tension in awkward conversation. He’d taken her refusal and politely (albeit sternly) flipped it on its head, which still kind of surprised the blanket-spotted filly as they quickly left the shoreline behind them.
He was the last thing Cheri had expected, and now the growing mare had reason enough to doubt childhood notions handed down to her by her father. Perhaps, she thought to herself, the best things in life were unexpected.
“I live in the redwood forest on the opposite side of the bay.” She threw her nose haphazardly in the direction behind them, almost as if to point out the now-invisible speck of distant land. From her side of the water, Silver Cove had always looked like a miniature strip of jagged rocks; Cheri used to love scrounging her side of the bay for stones that somewhat resembled the fuzzy outline of their mountain range, arranging them in the sand and then playing pretend as if she were there, fighting off make-believe evil. Now that she knew the truth, she could only smile to herself. “We call the forest Taiga.”
“Have you always lived here?” Cheri was curious to know, matching Starlore’s pace as best she could. For some reason, she’d never pictured foals or yearlings roaming around these lands. In her childish mind it was only a place of legend and despair, but as her black legs slid through the plain’s grasses and she inhaled the scent of fresh seaside winds, Cheri found nothing of the like here. She could only imagine how wonderful it must’ve been in the light, and the thought made her frown.
She’d been here for less than a few hours and Cheri was already wonderstruck; if this was what answering the call to adventure was like, then she was probably in danger of becoming a hardcore addict.
