"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
Yanhua had been as good as his word as they had stepped through the portal together. The goaticorn remained pleasant company as they journeyed together to the tall redwoods. The trek is somewhat arduous as she struggles to acclimate to the rising elevation. She hadn’t thought herself out of shape but Taiga tells her otherwise, muscles sore and tired by the time they make it into the fog covered woodland. Taking in the sporadic silvergreens amongst the towering trunks and the large mushrooms that umbrella over them, she has to admit that it was well worth the trip.
There would never be another Amazonian rainforest but maybe she can make this work.
It had been a little time since she had arrived, enough that she had explored much of what Taiga had to offer from its granite beaches to its small meadows. She liked the lay of the land but before she could truly call Taiga a perfect fit, she needed to meet its people. So she seeks them out today, wandering amongst fallen trunks and wide spread ferns that brush against the soft curve of her barrel. She is careful to lower her head where the foliage is thickest, avoiding the possibility by being snared with her new horn. It had been strange, she had fallen asleep one night and simply woke with the smoky quartz horn spiraling out of her forehead. Vines and jungle flowers she had once seen in her old jungle had somehow permanently entangled in the silky strands of her dark hair, refusing to dislodge. There wasn’t much she could do about it so she accepted it was the same ease as she had when she had woken up to a world broken and reformed.
Eventually she breaks from the misty cluster of trees into one of the small open meadows and here she looks around to see who might be around, grazing as she goes.
They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
She was still uncertain about the daylight. Every night as the sun sank beneath the horizon line, her heart trembled, her eyes darted to the shadows and searched for hungry yellow eyes looking back. Every dawn was a gift and a blessing. She was more fearful than she had been, but there were compensations.
Her strange and wonderful new daughter, a girl built for long evenings because she brought the light with her wherever she went. The queer, too-clever-to-be-natural fox that never seemed far from her side these days. And her family, growing and safe and enduring. Even with losses. Even with hardship. There was still love that kept them going.
It was sappy. She knew that, but it was something worth clinging to. The world had ended, more or less. There was no getting away from the newness of things now. A world similar to, but not quite, what it had been. The towering fungi and rumbling bellows occasionally sounding from the forest depths were easy evidence of that.
The black little mare had wandered for days on returning, taking in the changes. Relearning the paths that she had been so familiar with before. The fox darted ahead, nosing through piles of pine needles and hollow tree knots. She smiled at the creature's antics, until the harlequin body froze, and she paused to see where it was looking.
Half-expecting something horrific, a Monster or one of the slavering spider wolves that had been spotted in the darker corners of Taiga recently. The reality was much less anxiety-inducing, though it took her pulse a moment longer to get the message.
Clearing her throat, she broke from her path into the clearing, sunlight illuminating the faceted surfaces that winked from her skin. "Hello," she called out, pulling no powerful emotions from the flower bedecked mare she'd come upon. "Are you new here?" It was either that, or a stranger passing through. There wasn't much between that.
Love had kept them going.While sentimental, Yanhua had decided long ago that it’d been magic. It wasn’t because he was callous; Yan considered love - true love - to be one of the most powerful magics of all. It was just that the end of the Eclipse and losing his dam in the process had given him a clearer understanding of life’s more practical matters. Water and food being the most thought of when he’d watched the world die slowly around them and huddled his clan together every night. The memories alone suffocated him with dread. They came flooding in from every direction, from all around him, intensified by the strength of his bond among his herdmates. Yanhua had lived and re-lived all of their fears, and now that the sun was back … it was hard to just forget them.
But like a new-blossoming flower in the dawning spring of a sun-drenched Beqanna, his family did their best to parcel up the unforgettable and spread out into the light corners of their world once more. Perhaps it had been love that produced such beauty and rarity as his daughter Saturnelle, or another strikingly fierce hybrid like his kid Wit. Or maybe it had been the powers bestowed on all of them that ensured success. Where so many other violent, savage magics had gone dull, their combined efforts had provided healing, forage, and wellness. “After all,” Yan reminded himself, “Our King helped to bring the sun back.”
His mind had been in a fog since the winter festivities. Even though his light shined bright as ever on the outside, a bit of it had been snuffed out in the dark.
Yan had returned with Bardot to Taiga and resumed his life as-normal, giving her the space she desired in order to fully soak up the magnificent beauty of the mystical redwood forest. In his lifespan he’d yet to have his fill, but Yanhua knew from experience that not every horse felt the same. During Bardot’s initial time away he’d kept close to Amarine and Borderline, watching the children at play and occasionally relieving one of the younger, more permanent stallions from their duty.
They worked hard to wear down the trails, keep up the gardening, and enjoyed the fruits of such hard-earned labor.
On that day, Yanhua trailed his wife's stroll through their eden and grazed beneath the shade of a bulbous, purple-capped mushroom. With a flick of his ears he could hear the pitter-patter of her companion on the hunt, but paused from ripping up a clump of edible moss to lift his horns in curiosity at the silence that suddenly followed. He waited, dipping into the center of his power and expanding his awareness with it in search of some emotional warning from the jewel-encrusted mare, but nothing came.
A moment later he heard the faint softness of her Hello, and started down the steep hillside toward the evergreens that encircled a nearby meadow.
“That she is, darling.” Yan’s attitude brightened as he brushed through the felt needles and saw who was standing there. “Amarine,” Yan strode by her, careful not to rub himself too strongly against his mate’s delicate wings, “This is Bardot, an Amazonian native from before the Reckoning.” He trotted swiftly toward the unicorn in their midst. When each stride was as long as Yan’s wingspan, it took no time at all to reach the buckskin and swing around again so that the two of them - Bardot and Yanhua - were facing Amarine together. However, only one of them was wearing an elated, lop-sided grin. “Bardot this is Amarine.” He introduced the two.
“My wife, and one of the most captivating mares I’ve ever had the pleasure of calling both my friend and the mother of my children.” Yan laid the compliment on thickly, beaming. It had always been one of his greatest joys to over-exaggerate in the company of a loved one who could feel the truth so quickly. Amarine knew exactly how Yanhua felt about her, and the sentiments went deeper than spoken praise ever could. Which made joking so much more fun. “Bardot and I met after the closing ceremony on the Isle, and she agreed to come try Taiga on for size. What she doesn’t know yet is just how boring Tephra is going to be in comparison.” He smiled.
The silence doesn’t stay for long. A soft “Hello” greets her and she turns her golden gaze on a small black mare. The ground before her is covered in a scattering of rainbows from the light that filters through the many crystals that adorn her body. A fox gazes at her inquisitively by her side and before she can open her mouth to greet her back, Yanhua is there to answer for her. She can’t help but laugh lightly as Yan introduces them and her tarnished iris’s look at him with warmth. “I’m quite capable of introducing myself Yan.” She smiles as she glances at the mare. “He never stops being a gentleman does he?” She teases and admonishes lightly, still remembering his chivalrous attitude in the Isle and thinking there wasn’t a mean bone or destructive tendency in the man that she could see.
“Amarine, a pleasure.” She says gently, crossing the distance between them to softly bump her muzzle against hers in greeting. Familiarizing herself with her scent before stepping back beside Taiga’s fearless knight. “My word, he does speak highly of you doesn’t he?” She says with a grin, looking between husband and wife with curiosity. She had never been in love herself but it seemed a thing worth having. However she can’t imagine tying herself indefinitely to one person, the thought is rather terrifying. Perhaps that is why she had avoided such things so far, less messy that way.
Yan speaks of the Isle and she can’t help but laugh a little at that. “You should have seen the flower crown he had to wear. He rocked it.” She snorts with a giggle, remembering how quickly he had wanted to get it off and the way he had lowered his head so she could remove it from where it snagged along his horns. Speaking of horns… She throws her flowered mane with a slight exaggerated toss, the smoky quartz spiral catching in the light. “As you can see Taiga has been kind to me so far, I appreciate the glow up.” He mentions Tephra and there is still a faint glimmer that sparks in the molten depths of her eye as she pauses. “I’d still love to see the jungle there and what might call it home. But I quite like the woods here.” It’s honest, she does find the giant mushrooms and towering redwoods enchanting in their own way. Not anything at all like the closely knotted vines of her old home but sometimes change was a good thing.
They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
Yanhua's appearance was an unexpected one, though she supposed it shouldn't be. He was a one to always be in the background, smoothing ways and orchestrating his world into something beautiful for those who occupied it.
The evidence was in the flourishing forest and the unique fauna that surrounded them now, ideas that had formed from the mind of the luminous stallion, and had come to life as a testimony of his determination. They had all done their parts to see it through, of course. But he was the progenitor of the wonders.
She was, as ever, the supporter. The hearth-keeper. The one who did her best to keep the peace and harmony in their tight knit group. When a stab of verdant jealousy pricked her chest, she wondered if that was why. This new face, Bardot, was not entirely a stranger. Not to Yan, who beamed and bantered with his usual freedom.
"He does not," she acknowledged, returning the gesture of greeting with the floral mare. Then watched as the buckskin pivoted to stand beside her golden mate as though she belonged there.
Ama looked away, mouth set in an uneasy line. "I'm sorry I missed it," she answered, wondering if she should have made the long trip north that day. She had plead exhaustion, still healing from the after effects of death and childbirth. She should have put that aside, though, to stand by him on such a significant day.
This was ridiculous, of course. She couldn't expect their land to grow if no newcomers ever arrived, and she could not mandate that they only accept males from here on out. It was jealousy, plain and simple, but the day she had first met Borderline was an indelible memory. Putting aside her own feelings to maintain peace. She hadn't realized how much that had hurt, even as she had tried to explain it away.
That was done and over with, but the butterfly mare was uncertain if she could do it again.
Yanhua had always considered himself receptive. He had an ability to see into a person’s past, but knew the parameters of a gift like The Echoes were often blurry and almost never exact. Time faded the majority of them, leaving whispers of experiences other horses had gone through long before he and his family had set hoof in these woods, (he called them ‘ghosts’ for lack of a better term) but he had been keen to school his young ones and those alike with the insistence that memories - unlike true sight - were fallible things.
Driven by emotional states of being or cemented throughout time by the energy of some past event, memories were distinct to the user and not the beholder. One circumstance had the ability to be interpreted differently by every horse who saw the same thing, and no two creatures might end up giving the exact same account of what had happened. If Yanhua had his own teachings in mind at the present, he might’ve been more attuned to the fact that this gathering was being played out much the same way; only he doesn’t notice until Amarine shifts to look away from himself and Bardot.
Happily, he’d watched the two interact as courteous mares might. From his place afar it seemed almost like a warm feeling spreading throughout his bones, hoping that Amarine and Bardot might become fast friends. In his limited span of thought Yanhua only considered that his bejeweled wife had probably been lonely here, left to her own devices and raising their foals while he spent his time building, planning, or protecting. Theirs was a partnership, one divided equally with another mare, but he had always just assumed this came easily to her.
He is a stallion after all: as thick-headed as the horns that grew out from his skull.
“Flower crowns aside, you didn’t miss much.” Yan chipped in on Bardot’s comment, softening the enthusiasm he’d initiated this conversation with. He strode back to where the two mares had decided to congregate and cast his eyes aside at the buckskin one, half-grinning before he passed her in favor of adjusting Amarine’s vibrant teal forelock with the careful movement of his mouth.
“Taiga’s had quite the glow-up herself. All of us here seem to have put a little of ourselves into the place, and now she’s giving back what we put in.” He related his opinions with good humor, softly kissing the dark ridges of his mate’s forehead before lifting his head away from hers. The gallant twist of his neck displaced the glowing locks streaming gold down his neck, and they shivered with the movement from an unseen breeze. His tail, short and bobbed since birth, lifted playfully to tickle his lean, coppery backside. Yanhua flicked it nonchalantly, bobbing his head as he took a few strides toward the edge of the meadow again.
“This place is too wonderful to keep hidden away, I think.” The stallion sighed almost to himself, but the tone of his voice could easily be heard if either of the two mares were listening. He turned a steady blue gaze back on them both, then nodded off to one direction where the woods seemed dark and thickly clustered. “If Ama has no objections, perhaps we could all take a short trip to the main pathway. We could show you the way to Tephra from there, Bardot.” He proposed.
“There’s no rush though.” Yan smiled quickly, lest the purple-horned amazonian considered his offer a bit tasteless. “You could always save the journey itself for another time.”
Amarine’s glance away speaks volumes to the buckskin unicorn when she steps back next to Yan. Having been raised in a sisterhood she was incredibly attuned to the workings of mares and perceptive enough to read into even the most subtle of gestures. Her smile softens as Yan’s enthusiasm does and she is not put out when he moves closer to his mates side. She had come here on Yan’s offer not out of any kind of crush or love, only a friendly affection that she had unexpectedly found that day on the Isle. Her taste in men was rather questionable (she was about to find) and Yan was far from her type in that regard.
The same breeze that plays along his pale golden mane stirs her own dark strands and carries the sweet scent of her flowers along the currents of the wind. Her golden gaze follows him as he presses a kiss to Amarine’s forehead and wistfully wonders if she will ever feel an affectionate touch like that. At the same time it makes her insides churn with unease to think of herself unguarded and open to such feelings. She does not want to ever have someone control the reins of her feelings, to make her glance away in jealousy or sadness like the mare before her. It was better to keep a lover at arms length, she thinks. If she was to find one at all that is.
Bardot laughs lightly as he speaks of flower crowns and she throws her head in a nod of agreement. “You really didn’t, too cold and rather dull.” She adds, hoping to soothe any ruffled feathers with that statement. Yan moves away from them, speaking of Taiga and then adds a curious little phrase about being too wonderful to hide. It’s followed by an offer that makes her pause, makes her hesitate.
She was nervous of finally facing this quest, nervous of entering the little stretch of jungle left and either coming up empty handed or finding exactly what she was looking for. There was no point in putting it off any longer. Better to rip off that bandaid and see whatever was revealed beneath. She finds she wouldn’t mind the company either, just in case. “Is Tephra open to outsiders?” She asks frankly, looking between the two of them. Another pause as she considers how much she wants to reveal and then realizes it doesn’t matter at all. Not really. “It’s just that… I’m looking for someone. If they are to be found anywhere it’s in the jungle.” Another pause as she rolls her shoulder in a small shrug and gives a small grin. “I wouldn’t mind the company if you both wanted to come along.”
They may call me a sinner, but I am at peace with myself;
Feelings were far removed from any exactness. They were an art more than a science, open to interpretation and misinterpretation. This was compounded by history.
Amarine did not doubt that Yanhua loved her. It was impossible to do, when she could feel first hand how he felt with her. On that same token, however, was the knowledge that he was something of an easy lover. His heart was an open thing, seeking out the good and beauty in every creature he met. And finding it, often as not. It was difficult not to take things to heart when she could fell exactly how his love was divided.
Ama's smile was soft and distant, her leaning into Yanhua's touch a habit as much as a reassurance. He chattered on, and the naturally soft spoken mare found herself fading into the part of the quiet, dutiful wife.
"Of course," she assented when asked to come along. Tephra's border was not so very far away, the jungle tangled land a lush thickening of their own forest as the landscape transitioned. Her delicate wings fluttered in the sunlight, velvet black and green that melded with the surroundings most days.
She was eager to go, to see off this beautiful stranger before she became another beautiful wife, but the mention of the jungle kingdom had changed something in the buckskin's demeanor. Her gentle Confidence faltered, something like Apprehension taking its place. For all that she was carrying her own baggage, Ama was helpless to ignore another's distress.
"Who are you looking for?" She asked with subtle concern. "Maybe we know them," or Yan might, anyway. She herself had always been a homebody, unlikely to cross paths with anything that didn't come to her first.
Bardot
![[Image: BQjeje-Bardot2.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/T37nJTF6/BQjeje-Bardot2.png)