"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
It is not until they have passed over the western border of Beqanna, over the ocean that Beyza feels she’s gone far enough. There is enough land between them and Pangea, enough space between her and Jamie.
Her pale white eyes greedily take in the tropical island before looking back to her company, making sure they all make it across without incident. She had woven a raft of light and cloud so they could stand on it and float across the water in the early morning light. She smiles as she watches the girls eye the water as they pass - Maurtia telling the others with confidence that she sees some sea monsters and she wonders aloud whether there are any ghosts that haunt the ocean and if they’re slimier than land ghosts.
This is a good move, she thinks, though there’s some trepidation in her heart as well. She’s never lived anywhere other than Pangea before - that had been her home. She’d fought with those of that kingdom and shared so much of herself there.
But she wants her daughters to know more than the rough canyons, wants them to live in peace - where they aren’t just tools to be used. And as they all step onto warm white sand, Beyza thinks the fact that Ischia shares nothing in common with that distant land is a very attractive quality. The sound of tropical birds greets them and she encourages the triplets to stay nearby as her pale eyes scan for someone. She intends to live here, but it would be nice to speak with the leader and make it official - in case there are any obscure rules like whatever is going on in Hyaline these days.
@[neuna] @[Decima] and any!! These ladies are here to move in
I'll be almost to the ocean when you open your eyes
Life was returning slowly to the island. The Dame wandered it daily, slower than she once had. As ragged as she'd felt in the days since returning, the island still managed to make her smile. In its little ways, it was healing her. Every unfurling vine, every new shoal of silver fish allowed her to feel hope that had been so absent in recent memory.
There were other bright lights in her days as well. Acionna and Moira, her twin daughters. They were as vibrant as drops of the sea made solid. Glittering, thriving girls that represented everything she'd lost. And everything she hoped to regain.
The walk she took every morning was more of a formality these days. A reason to get out of bed when it felt difficult. Travelers had gone from uncommon to nonexistent, and the locals had dwindled to the youngest of her own offspring. It was what brought her to a halt as the beach line opened in front of her, memory scalding her with shocking force.
Pure, luminescent white, examining her home with a reserved air. The air refused to leave her chest until it registered that there were some key differences. Enough to allow her to walk up to the stranger with a pleasant -if bewildered- look on her face.
"Welcome to Ischia," she greeted as the space closed between them. She noted now that the mare was utterly white. Every inch of her, even her eyes. Blind? But there were others with her, girls not any older than her own daughters, and almost as pristine as the woman who led them. "How can I help you today?"
It was an honest question. It was strange to be a mare so ingrained in serving others, with no one to serve. For as long as they were here, she would do her best to see them happy in her shores.
Decima had been…quietly experimenting with her abilities. The past wasn’t as difficult to figure out, it always had a somewhat hazy quality to it but she could easily tell that it was the past. It was hard to explain…but everything just felt concrete. The future, though. That was harder. Seeing the future was difficult. Everything was so shiny and constantly moving. The future was like a river that was always, always changing directions. But that hadn’t stopped her from looking. So she’d starting looking into her own future. Everything came in flickers. Some were quick, just colors. Sometimes she’d even think she could smell something. But every now and then she’d get a clear image, all of which she kept to herself. But the only recurring pattern she’d seen lately had been flashes of blues and greens and she knew now where she had seen them before.
It had been here.
This place. This moment.
So the girl registered no surprise at the sight of the sea and the lush tropical landscape, but stayed close to her sisters nonetheless. It was a welcome change from Pangea. Unlike her mother, Decima felt no loyalty to the sands. She was loyal only to her blood – to her sisters. Pangea was not her home. Her sisters are her home. Decima is not the sentimental type, not now as a child and she doubted she would grow to be as she aged. She could look, of course, but it would be an utter waste of energy.
She smiles as Maurtia immediately seeks out monsters and ghouls, clearly as unphased as she was by the move. Her white eyes seek Neuna, wondering idly what she thinks of this new development in the fabric of their lives. But for the most part, Decima stays quiet as they float across the sea.
They weren’t alone for long upon their arrival. Decima observed the woman who greeted them with curious eyes. And the girl, still very much a child yet not at all childlike, was the first to speak. “We live here now,” she said, simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Or we will. I’ve seen it.” She finished, confidently, sufficient that her explanation would be more than enough to convey some degree of understanding. She didn’t stop to think that this was, perhaps, a strange explanation coming from a child.
The third daughter is perhaps the hardest to convince, the most difficult to herd onto this ferry of light and cloud, because she does not understand. Because their father has not come to see them off and the wolf pup watches from a distance, just as thoroughly confused. (And this girl, built of love and for love, though not necessarily from love, has such a terrible capacity for heartache and she succumbs to her sadness as the four of them crowd so carefully onto their raft.) How fiercely she tries not to pout as Maurtia points out her sea monsters, though Neuna does not dare look over the side herself. She is aware, too, of Decima’s discerning gaze but cannot bring herself to smile for her sister either.
But the third daughter is the last one to step onto the sand, not a petulant child but a child who still does not quite know why she has been removed from her home. She feels as if she has been set adrift in some vast ocean, Neuna, and the feeling only compounds when a stranger approaches.
She shrinks behind her mother and sisters, the third daughter, as she studies the stranger (ringed in that halo of light as they all are because there is something wrong with the third daughter’s eyes). Decima speaks without hesitation, never once doubting herself, so self-assured that it makes Neuna’s head swim. How fierce her sisters are, she thinks! While she calls upon a thin veil of fog, willing it to twist itself around her ankles, a small comfort because it reminds her of home and their father and the shadow pup she’d had to leave behind.
She does not think the stranger will turn them away, not with how confidently Decima had said she’d seen them living here. She’s learned that if Decima says it will happen that it almost certainly will, but her stomach is fraught with nerves anyway.
Maurtia is grinning at Decima’s words, and turns to say something to Neuna to notice how the palest daughter is calling fog to twist around her ankles. Without saying anything, this daughter that can summon bones and speak to ghosts moves over to Neuna and drapes her head over her sister’s back. A slightly awkward but comfortable position that reminds her of when they sleep in a huddle together and it’s only their variation in colour that enables them to tell which body is which.
She hums softly, a song she’s made up about those slimy ghosts she’s still thinking about - but she keeps the words to this song in her head and uses the melody to help soothe her sweetest sister.
Beyza can only hope that a little more time will have the youngest feel more comfortable. She hadn’t enjoyed leaving the shadow wolf pups behind but that is a problem she can try to sort out later. For now, her attention is on the mare that approaches - appreciation spreading through her for the fact that they are not left waiting on the beach for long.
She’d already been crafting a pleasant smile when her middle daughter speaks up to answer before she can, and the grin turns genuine and warm - dancing a little in her pale eyes as she shifts her attention back to the finned mare - who seemed to suit this place so perfectly. “My daughters and I are looking for somewhere new to live, and we're hoping there might be room for us here. I’m Beyza, and this is Maurtia, Decima, and Neuna.” She gestures to each of the girls in turn, black and grey and white, and turns back to the finned mare with that same warm smile. It is easy to come by, in the presence of the girls - even when the back of her mind houses worries about the youngest.
There is another island they can try if this one is unwelcoming, but she is already hopeful that they can remain here. That starting now there will be a little more stability for the triplets. That here in the tropical sun they can grow up without worries of shadows and death.
05-19-2021, 11:52 AM (This post was last modified: 05-19-2021, 11:53 AM by Aquaria.)
I'll be almost to the ocean when you open your eyes
The trio of fillies, so clearly sisters, clustered together like a nest of chicks in their mother's wake. Aquaria noted the tendrils of mist that clung to them, odd for this time of day. More odd still was the way the seemingly boldest of the brood met her gaze and declared with utter confidence their residency.
Her amethystine eyes batted, but that was the only overt sign of her surprise. A luminous smile brightened her features considerably quickly after. "Lovely to meet you all," she replied, addressing them as a whole. "I'm Aquaria, caregiver of Ischia. We're only a herdland here, not involved in mainland politics unless it can't be helped. If you're alright with that, and don't mind the quiet, you can stay as long as you like." The quiet was relative, of course. The jungle echoing with parrots, the not-too-distant rumble of the waterfall, contradicted her. There were no equine voices joining them, which was her point.
Shifting her weight from the back leg newly wrapped in silver-pink scar tissue, she turned to speak directly to the trio. "I have two daughters near your age, and an older son who lives here still. They may be on one of the smaller islets or the reef today, but I will bring them by to meet you tomorrow morning, if that's alright? They'll be excited for playmates."
She knew her girls had been itching for adventure, any kind, and hopefully this tight knit family would be open to it. She didn't resent the past families that had used her isles as means of reclusiveness, but interaction between residents had it's value too. Especially for children.
Beyza’s smile brightens with her relief when Aquaria informs them that they can stay as long as they’d like. A few of her worries go to rest right then and there. “No politics and some quiet sounds perfect.” The sound of the jungle and the waterfall were pleasant, and relative quiet was preferable over dead silence. She thinks she’s had enough of that when things were too quiet during the eclipse.
Perhaps she should tell Aquaria where they are from. How she had been a part of Pangea, she had believed in destruction and wrought some herself when it was asked of her.
But none of that really matters now, does it? She’s just a mother looking for somewhere safe for her daughters to grow up, somewhere that they can know peace enough to discover who they want to be.
Her white eyes look to her daughters when Aquaria addresses them, letting them know that she has a few children. Be nice the thought is directed at the grey and the black filly - Maurtia blinking innocently up at her mother at this warning before glancing over to Decima and then finally to Aquaria, who she offers what is supposed to be a shy nod. She’d not interacted with many foals aside from her sisters - she hadn’t much seen the point - but maybe these daughters of Aquaria could tell her where the good ghosts where on this island.
Beyza’s attention moves back to Aquaria and she just has one other question for now - “Does it matter where we settle, here or one of the islets that you mentioned?”
I'll be almost to the ocean when you open your eyes
She had learned with time, that it didn't matter where they came from. Souls who found their way to Ischia, who bothered with the trouble of crossing from the mainland, were often in need of that distance. Prying didn't help, though she didn't mind being a listening ear when requested.
Rather, she found it useful to the healing process, helping others unwind the threads of their lives into something that made sense again. Time and sunshine cured many things.
She beamed gently at the other woman's assent, knowing she enjoyed the quiet too. "Wonderful," she nodded, feeling pleased with this first interaction so far. Truthfully, she'd been concerned with being out of practice, or worse; that the time in the dark would have driven her from this kind of work entirely. The satisfaction she felt was the same as it always had been, though, and she looked forward to seeing these new faces in the coming days.
The uncertainty in the filly's wasn't lost on her, and with their odd introduction, the seamare suspected that maybe other children might have been a rarity where they had come from. Goodness knew that Moira and Acionna had stuck together tightly for the first year of their lives, bound by experience and the security that a constant companion brings.
She felt guilt over that still. Foals ought to have friends, and know more than their own blood while still growing. She'd failed them in that way. Her own fearfulness had been a large contributor to that. These three were simply more serious than She was used to children being. She smiled kindly at the trio, hoped that they'd find they could relax while here.
"It doesn't," she replied, looking back to the brilliantly white mare. "My family's cove is to the West of here, should you need to find me, but you're welcome to settle anyplace that takes your interest. There's more privacy on the islets, but more resources here on the mother island. Travel between is easiest at low tide." Small facts and figures that played into island life reeled through her mind as she mentioned this.
Tides were a fact of life that had to be considered when living so close to the water. The hurricanes that rolled through in summer would be another adjustment she would need to help them through. Where to find freshwater, what plants could be eaten and which would make your belly ache for days.
Island life was wonderful. It was something she wouldn't trade for anything, but it was a learning curve if you weren't born to it. Even then, the island still managed to surprise her regularly.
Beyza appreciates that Aquaria doesn’t pry into where they had come before, that there’s no test in order to settle here. The finned mare seems kind and unobtrusive, two ideal qualities. She listens carefully to the answer to her question, nodding her understanding. “Wonderful.” Beyza accidentally repeats the other mare’s word from a moment ago, though it is appropriate all the same. She is glad to hear that there is little restriction on where they settle. Perhaps she’ll let the girls decide, see wherever their hearts call to, or if they want to settle in a new spot every night trying them all out.
Maybe if she lets Neuna decide, if she tells the other - louder - daughters to let the youngest decide, it’ll help her adjust a little.
But these are things they can discuss together, once they’ve settled into the idea of living here. So Beyza just grins to their greeter, her smile soft but genuine.
“Thank you Aquaria, I think my girls and I are going to be very happy here.” That is the hope, at least. The goal. That this can be home - they can grow into whatever they want to be before striking out on their own. Beyza knows she cannot protect them forever, but she will try to do so for as long as she can.
@[Aquaria] we can probably end it here? Thank you for replying though!!
