"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
Just as Cressida obliges him with staying awake during the day sometimes, Helion returns the favour occasionally by napping in the daylight and waking when the sun goes down - when it is her turn to shine. Literally. He can’t remember if they had spoken about this trade of hours or if it is just something that they do instinctually.
There is (little to) no grumbling from the pale gold colt as he wakes today while the sun is setting - opening his eyes to find that, once again, the plants in his immediate vicinity have tilted towards him - drawn in by the sunlight he emits. With a bright laugh, he bites the leaves off of one that tickled his nose when he began to stir and then scrambles up - already searching for Cressida. He hopes she isn’t far, hopes she hasn’t already moved off to find her own adventures without him - or he'd have slept away the day for nothing!
His horns have grown into C-shapes, curving from behind his ears, and like his eyes - they match his twin, who does not end up being difficult to find, in a nearby clearing where the colourful sky can still be seen as the sun continues to fade. His glow is gentle and golden, and though it fades a little with the waning day his smile brightens upon seeing his sister.
As he approaches, Helion performs an exaggerated yawn - which turns genuine about halfway through - before nudging her in greeting. “What do you wanna do tonight?” And then, he suddenly remembers something a fish had asked him and he cannot believe he’s forgotten to ask her or their parents yet. “OH and do you know if we hatched?"
Cressida is pleased that tonight is hers—that Helion will be joining her. In some ways, it is not natural for them to fall into the rhythm that they do. The sun has no business joining the moon during the evening and the moon does not belong in the afternoon sky—but they have never been fully natural. So the pair abides their own rhythms, answering their own calls. They deny their desires and stay up for too long or sleep during the times that are not natural for them and Cressida would not have it any other way.
She stands in the dying light of day when he finds her as herself, silvery wings tucked over her young back and her horned head tipped back to look at her brother’s kin making its descent. She only looks away when she catches the sound of his exaggerated yawn—and while she wants to roll her eyes, she just casts him a gentle smile, her pale gold eyes shining. “I thought that we could go flying,” she says, knowing that the moon would be at its fullest tonight. She liked being amongst the stars when that happened. She always felt the most like herself, the most purely Cressida, during those moments.
But his next question catches her off guard, startles her, and her eyes widen.
“I’m sorry,” she starts, her silvery voice laced with laughter, “did you say hatched?”
She blinks at him, wondering if perhaps she had managed to mishear him.
Helion is always delighted when he manages to make someone laugh, it makes him feel as though he is doing something right. Makes him feel like the sun is warm on his golden skin even as it is setting and slipping beneath the horizon. And this feeling is no less true for anyone else than it is for his twin. His own smile is bright and unreserved when she clarifies what he had just asked her. “Yeah hatched! I met a girl who hatched but I think she meant more like a fish.”
Moira had been rather aquatic, after all. Though when he thinks of fish hatching, he is still thinking of bird-eggs - just floating in the water like little boats.
Which sounds incredibly fun now that he thinks about it and he wishes he could find an egg big enough to carry him down the river. If they found two eggs big enough, he and Cressida could even race them.
But before he can let that rather fantastic idea run away with his attention he focuses on the matter at hand - wanting to know if his sister had paid any more attention to these matters than he had. “So mom and dad don’t have shiny silver and gold egg pieces hidden away somewhere? We probably would’ve been like birds instead of fish.” He unfurls his golden wings just enough to nudge her, highlighting his rather obvious point as his grin grows a little further.
Cressida is not inclined to laugh often—although that is not to say that she does not find enjoyment in life. Instead, her joy is a softer variety. It’s found in the lilting smile that touches the corner of a silvery mouth. In the flash of amusement in pale gold eyes. It’s in the way her heart leaps at the sight of something beautiful. But she does not laugh quick and easy—not like her brother.
So she enjoys these moments when he draws it out of her. When his sunlight washes over her and she can feel, even fleetingly, like a creature of the golden warmth too. It invades her soul and she can almost taste what it is like to be him. To live within the day. To bask in the summer heat.
It’s an enjoyable, momentary pleasure—but she always finds herself missing her cool dusk.
Still, she smiles at him, at ease in his presence, any guards she may keep up completely folding beneath the trust that exists between siblings. “I didn’t know fish hatched,” she admits, mulling over the thought of it as they walk together. She finds it strange to think of eggs bringing forth both creature of sea and air, but the world was a wondrous thing—and she is certain that she only knows the barest hint of its truth.
“I don’t think so,” she thinks, seriously contemplating the question. “But you never know! Mom does like to be a bird.” She thinks of Alaska in the air, her body morphing and twisting into the avian forms.
“I think I like being a bird too.”
Although not as much as she likes being a deer, she thinks, with a secret smile.
Helion doesn’t feel out of place in the night when he is with his twin. His golden glow is a little more subdued though this is contrasted by how much it stands out in the cool shadows of the night. He’s not a night creature but he pretends to be one for Cressida, and he enjoys getting to see her in her light. It’s a softer world, the one that wakes up in the darkness, and it suits her so perfectly.
The silver-eyed boy is also picturing Alaska shifting when Cressida mentions it, feeling a minor flutter of jealousy over how the girls in the family got to change forms. It never lasted long, because overall he was quite happy with who he was and it never took very long for his thoughts to cycle back to being content.
This time, it only takes so long as the space between when Cressida mentions their mom and when she says she thinks she’d like being a bird. “I’m only a bird between the ears, I think.” He’s grinning as he says this, and laughing again when he continues. “That’s what mom told me once.”
He’d gotten stuck somewhere when she told him that, he remembered that much. When he was first figuring out how two wings and four legs and a head and rear-end all worked together to make someone fly.
“We’ll have to ask them about the eggs later. After we do some flying.”
