"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
Grief is not an emotion that Mazikeen handles very well - which is a nice way to say she actively avoids it. Normally anger is there, ready to fill in the gaps and give her relief, but she can’t find anything to be angry with. The world and the unfairness of it is too broad of a target. There is nothing for her to fight when she gets mad at the world, mad at everything that has been happening, mad at the situations she’s been finding herself in.
She’d fight herself if she could, as payment for all her mistakes.
In the absence of anger and in the spirit of avoiding everything else that keeps trying to filter into her mind, Mazikeen continues her trek through Hyaline to find the residents and distract herself by tiring out her body as much as possible. Not much of the news she carries is good, but some of it is - and there’s one family in particular that comes to her mind. One that she is looking forward to finding.
She finds the boy, the angel that looks like he’s been crafted from winter itself, and she calls on her fire aura to light the air around them as she approaches - slowly, cautiously, aware that the last time they spoke they were both covered in her blood and not wanting to startle him. It is instinct to look him over now, see if he’s doing okay, and in the absence of any life-threatening wounds a smile lights up her orange eyes. “Hey! I don’t think we were properly introduced... you know, last time. I’m Mazikeen - or Maze, if you want.”
She thinks they've earned a bit of familiarity with each other after how they had met.
THESE DAYS I DON’T PRAY WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES
I JUST BITE MY TONGUE A BIT HARDER
He has tried so desperately to make himself scarce. He has lingered near the edge of the forest because he has not found anyplace else to go. Because he has not yet worked up the courage to fully separate himself from his mother, from Este. He has watched them from afar, crawling with the urge to go to them, humming with nervous energy.
Waiting, always waiting.
Wanting, always wanting.
Sometimes he holds his breath hard and fast and he steals into their midst and he kisses his sister’s head fiercely. He whispers to her how much he loves her and misses her and that he will be here waiting for her always. And then he has to flee before the air goes rank with the stench of death again. He has to flee before they find him and remember that he is not welcome here.
And he always steals one last glance over his shoulder as they disappear from view. For days, he paces the border between Hyaline and the forest. Days and days while he waits for someone to find him. Waits for someone to remember the angel cast from ice that is not welcome here.
He remains in one spot today, though, wings folded against his side. Shivering. Trembling? Teeth gritted against the cold, though there is so much ice that lives in him. Then there is some figure that comes swimming out of the distance, bathed in fire and his heart sinks. His breath hitches and he stiffens, considers running. He has been caught.
He never got the chance to say goodbye.
Will they try to find him? Will he ever see them again?
But the closer she gets, the more familiar she is. Even without the overwhelming stench of death. He relaxes but only slightly and only by degrees. He lets out only half a breath, loosening only half of his muscles when she smiles. (He can still smell death on her, but only because he saw her die.)
“Mazikeen,” he repeats and there is something like relief in his voice, soft. He remembers that he’d regretted not learning her name. “My name is Sela,” he tells her and then corrects himself, “Selaphiel. Ryatah is my mother.” Does he say this because he thinks this might make him worthy of staying?
The edge of her smile twitches a little in amusement when the colt uses the longer form of her name instead of the short nickname. It doesn’t truly matter either way, she supposed. “Maze” just felt a little more friendly, and that suited her purpose for finding him. He seems tense, but she doesn’t think much about that - their first meeting hadn’t exactly been smooth.
She worries that day will haunt him, like her own memories of when she was his age, but that’s not something she knows how to ask. She barely knows how to deal with it herself - and maybe he is built of stronger stuff.
He offers two versions of his name as well - both far softer and gentler on the tongue than her own. When he mentions that Ryatah is his mother, Mazikeen nods - that part, at least, she knew. “I was looking for your mom, actually. I have some news to share with her but maybe you can tell her for me?” She asks with a small smile, attempting to make it sound like it’s a very important task that she’d only be able to trust with him. Once the words are out, she wonders if that's dumb. Are you supposed to talk to foals differently than you'd talk to adults? She's not sure she can handle another crisis, even if it is a mild one about interacting with children, so she pushes that down and forces herself not to think about it.
Although Mazikeen doesn’t really feel like smiling, she makes an effort - because this part of the news, the part she’s going to share with him, is good. Or, she hopes it will be because she wants so much to be able to share some good news. It’s such a small thing that she can do to repay Ryatah for saving her - but the chance that it could make this boy made of ice smile soothes away some of the guilt she has over changing this rule. It feels right.
In the orange glow of the fire, her expression is warm when she asks “Do you like living here in Hyaline, Sela?” She hopes he doesn’t mind her using the shortened form of his name, even if he didn't use hers.
THESE DAYS I DON’T PRAY WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES
I JUST BITE MY TONGUE A BIT HARDER
He tries not to feel patronized, infantilized by the way she speaks to him. He knows that he is a child in her eyes, but he feels as if he has lived a thousand years. He feels as if the stench of death has aged him prematurely. It has had such devastating effects on him, but he does not tell her this. Instead, he draws in an unsteady breath and swallows thickly and nods. He tries not to let his heart flutter with hope. If Mazikeen wants him to deliver news to his mother perhaps it means that she is not here to send him away. It means, at the very least, that he will get to see his mother again.
“I will tell her,” he says, so gravely serious, so desperate to convey that he can be trusted with whatever task she yokes him with. He is capable. He is young and he is small and he is sometimes crippled by self-doubt, but he will do whatever she asks of him. “Whatever you need me to do, I will do it.” This is a promise he will keep, no matter what.
He sets his jaw and his nostrils flare and that ice-dipped halo hangs low on his brow as he levels her with that solemn stare. His breath is thin as he tries not to draw in too much of her death. (How rude, he thinks, she had died for him, the least he can do is take long, deep breaths of it. She has sacrificed herself for him. She had taken that strange half-step toward him. She had asked him if he was all right. She had done it for him and he cannot even bear to smell it on her. Such a weak, pathetic thing he is. It makes his knees tremble.)
Her question kicks the air out of his chest, arrests his heart and he sucks in a sharp breath, eyelids fluttering. “I,” he begins and then abruptly closes his mouth. He stares at her, breathless, a long moment. And then, finally, he shakes his head. He is not a liar, Selaphiel. “No,” he tells her, honest. “I know that Breach has made Hyaline a haven for shifters. I know that I am not welcome here and it is only a matter of time until I will be told to leave.” He swallows hard, painfully, and finally looks away.
“I try my best to stay out of the way,” he says this quietly. Ashamed. “Like maybe everyone will just forget that I’m here, but it’s starting to take its toll. It’s hard to live here knowing I’m not welcome.”
Mazikeen really should stop trying to predict how conversations were going to go because she has never once gotten it right. She feels the light-hearted exchange she had been imagining crumble away into reality as the sombre colt explains what living in Hyaline has been like for him.
She thinks about how she should have known.
And maybe she should have also thought to tell him it had been her intention to fight for that rule to be changed. Would that have saved him some anxiety? If he had known there was one shifter out there intent on deterring anyone else from chasing him out?
‘Should have’s pile up in her mind as the warmth and faint smile falls from Mazikeen’s eyes. She regards him more seriously, finding her heart aching for him not feeling welcome in the land he had (presumably) been born in. “I’m sorry, Selaphiel.” She was often sorry but rarely took the chance to actually say it and she does so now without hesitation. “It took me too long to see that that rule was an unjust one.”
“Breach…” Mazikeen’s voice falters. She softens the news, not for the colt but for herself. Far better (and easier) to think of her friend as being away and not dead. “... I’m looking after Hyaline while she’s gone and that’s the one thing I’m changing. You can stay here, you and any other children that are born here or come to live here, for as long as you want regardless of whether you can shift or not. Forever, even, if you’d like.” She watches him carefully for his reaction, trying to not focus too much on the stupid feeling of hope that stirs in her. She'd like for Selaphiel to find this as his home, like to try to give him some peace and make up for the miserable time he's been having. If it isn't too late.
THESE DAYS I DON’T PRAY WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES
I JUST BITE MY TONGUE A BIT HARDER
Guilt pulses in the boy’s chest as the warmth drains from the white mare’s eyes. He has upset her with his honesty and he has no choice but to look away while his shame thickens in his throat. Surely she will send him away now. He shifts his weight, preparing to take his leave. He knows that he has already overstayed his welcome. He has suspected all along that his mother is the only reason he has been allowed to stay as long as he has and he will have to remember to thank her. And perhaps he has learned a lesson about honesty. Perhaps he has learned to play his cards a little closer to the vest.
But she apologizes to him and he chances a glance at her, wary. Just as she could not have predicted the trajectory of their conversation, he could not have predicted this. His breath hitches as she speaks and he swallows hard against the sudden influx of hope that blooms and bursts where guilt had flourished only moments earlier. He holds his breath, uncertain, as she continues.
And then, for the first time in his young life, his eyes water with stark, unfettered relief. He smiles (though even this is tinged with a certain kind of sadness, a sort of sorrow the boy will carry with him all his life) and looks at her plainly now. His heart hammers out something sideways, reckless and wild. He sucks in a sharp breath, smelling the death on her still and shakes his haloed head.
The smile disappears just as suddenly as it had lit up his solemn face and a frown darkens his face as he studies her face, her features thrown into sharp relief by the flames surrounding her. “How can I repay you for saving my life twice?” he asks, frowning fiercely. Such a just and moral child.
Selaphiel
@[Mazikeen]
@[The Monsters] let's mess with his reflective teleportation
Warmth touches Mazikeen’s heart when Selaphiel smiles in the aftermath of her news. She’d been hoping for a positive reaction, hoping for the chance to bring a little bit of joy to contrast the death of their first meeting, and the heaviness that had persisted for the beginning of this one.
The smile doesn’t last long, which is concerning for a moment until he speaks. She doesn’t laugh, though part of her wants to and she bites her cheek to keep it in check. The laughter she forces down is half out of relief that he wasn’t going to announce he had decided to live somewhere else anyway, and half out of nervousness. The idea of someone seriously owing her anything is an uncomfortable feeling - so she tries to focus on the reverse side.
The idea that she could have saved this colt’s life twice? That was a better feeling. Even if it had barely required any thought on her part. She would have leapt to the defence of anyone - had actually looked forward to testing herself against the monsters without her shiting (even if that particular experiment would have been a spectacular failure if not for Ryatah). And changing this rule? It had been instinct too. The only thought required was whether or not Breach would hate her for doing it.
She knew she would make both of those choices over and over again, though. Knew they were the right things to do, the only possible choices she could have made in each situation.
So Mazikeen shakes her head, the fire aura illuminating them moving slightly with the action. “Repay me? Nothing - not for doing the right thing.” A small smile is working its way back into her orange eyes and her tone, but she regards his serious expression and wonders whether he’ll even accept that she wants absolutely nothing in repayment. Maybe his friendship? But that's an embarrassing thing to vocalize. So she quickly tries to think of something to offer. “But... you can help me keep an eye out and let me know if you notice anyone else living in Hyaline thinking that they’re not welcome? So we can try to fix it?”
THESE DAYS I DON’T PRAY WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES
I JUST BITE MY TONGUE A BIT HARDER
He is only a child and he cannot fault her for addressing him as such, but it makes him feel small. Insignificant and stupid. It makes the solemn heart twinge and spasm and his cheeks flush with the heat of embarrassment.
Are there others? Others like him, tucking themselves away in the darkest places, hoping to remain undetected so that they will not be told to leave.
He studies her a long moment and he wants to tell her that she can ask anything of him. He wants to tell her that he’ll gladly lay down his life for her, too, the same way she had for him. She does not need to ask such a simple thing of him. But he is only a child, he can see it in her face that she would never let him do such a thing, so he doesn’t say so. He only nods. Swallows thickly and agrees.
“Okay,” he says. He does not protest. He does not insist that, though he is only a child, he is capable of much bigger things. Not yet. “I will keep an ear out.”
Is this what she’d wanted him to tell his mother?
He almost asks but stops himself short.
Perhaps he can make himself useful. If she’s looking after Hyaline while Breach is away. He looks away briefly, staring off into the darkness, as if he can sense the monster lurking in the shadows. The thing that reaches into his chest and manipulates the heart there, the thing that will compound his suffering.
He does not feel it now, but he will.
He draws in a long breath before he returns his focus to her face, ringed in fire.
“I think I could be more useful to you,” he tells her finally, pausing for the space of a breath before continuing. “I knew it was coming. I knew you were going to die that day, I could smell it. Just like I can smell it on my sister, Este.” His throat constricts and his pulse accelerates but he does not allow himself any reprieve. “Maybe I could warn you when I know someone will die.”
If she could, Mazikeen would tell Selaphiel that she does not ask more of him not because he is a child - but because she is incapable of asking for more from anyone. She’d make the same request even if he were older, surely. For someone who is so willing to put herself in harms way to protect anyone around her, she’d never expect or ask for the same in return.
Mazikeen offers her help freely and at the same time is so sure she’s destined to fight whatever battles she must on her own.
So she isn’t thrilled about the idea that Selaphiel feels like he needs to be useful to her to stick around - that hadn’t been the point of this rule change. She just wanted the residents of Hyaline to live their lives, maybe chip in with patrols so she could nap every now and then whenever she pushed herself to her absolute limits just to avoid her dreams - both the good and the bad, because they are both torture.
But what he offers is interesting, she isn’t going to lie. Cryptic as hell, sure, but interesting.
And all she can think is how desperately she wants to avoid feeling the pain that is still echoing around in her heart in the aftermath of Breach’s death.
She’s nodding before she even starts replying. “That’s… that’d be very helpful, Selaphiel. Really. I’d like that a lot.” Mazikeen doesn’t bother to try to pretend away how earnest she sounds. “I’ve had enough of death, I think. With a heads up, maybe we could do something like how I was saved... right?” She easily defers to him in this idea so he can correct her if she was misunderstanding.
She says she's had enough of death, as if she hasn’t promised someone to kill them in the future. As if death isn’t going to haunt her through a long, long life.
