"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
Since meeting Aela, Mazikeen’s mind has drifted more often to Reave and Nerine than it had before. There had been a time during the long stretch of night where she had considered finding him again - after she had completed her quest - and then she had forgotten to pay attention to and finally had stopped caring about anything outside of Hyaline.
Now, though, she finds that she wakes up with the autumn sun and finds herself a little excited about having something to do, even if it is only a visit. So she makes the short trip to Nerine on wings of iridescent blue feathers - a recent favourite. She doesn’t enter through Taiga but rather lands on the cliffs closest to her home, folding the wings at her side as she takes her first look at the land that has been her close neighbour for most of her life.
There is too much sky here, everything is too out in the open, though this does assist her plan for the day. She is not here to sneak around, the whole point is to be found. Preferably by Reave, and if not then by someone who can point her in the right direction.
It will only take a quick look at her to see that she had changed - the curving, glowing horns on her head, the scars that mark her face and heart, the wings at her side hiding the rest. Even the shade of her eyes is a deeper red-orange than it had been when she had met him (though they had stood there in the forest obscured by shadows). And these are only the surface-level changes.
This is not the same Mazikeen he had met that day and she finds that she is curious to discover how the years have changed that boy who had told her the monsters would wipe them all out. Did he still have that practical-yet-depressing view on things?
Never one for standing still, Mazikeen moves but keeps close to the cliffs - thinking she stands out enough that she'll be noticed before too long without needing to call out as her eyes continuously scan the moors for movement.
Just as she had changed, so too had he. It is the way of the world, the inevitable and unyielding hand of time pushing them always forward. Forcing them into things they might never have anticipated or dreamed of. Once he had speculated what the monsters might wish to do with them. Had imagined they wished to consume them and leave nothing but death and decay behind.
It turns out, he had been right. That is what had fueled him when he had answered the call for help. The call that, in the end, had banished them from this place before they could see their purpose through. The call that had resulted in his death and rebirth into something new. Something different. Though that which had been stolen from him had been returned, it is now encapsulated in the harpy eagle destined to haunt his footsteps forever. The bird that houses what little shred of conscience he has left.
Rune spies her first, as he usually does. Reave follows, pale legs sweeping through the heather and boggy grasses of the lower moors until he nears the cliffs. As it rises, it gives way to hardier, windswept vegetation, betraying anyone that lingers here. She would easily be able to see him coming, just as he could see her.
He is a strange sight now, though somehow fitting in the harshness of the landscape. Bone had ruptured mercilessly through his skin as he had grown, and now the colt she had once known had been consumed by a stallion carved of blood and ivory. The image he makes is tempered only by the soft glow of his armor, gentling the torn edges of his skin. But behind the fierce mask of bone, the vibrant blue of his gaze remains the same.
He grins as he approaches, though there is something wild in the pleased expression. Rune drops from the sky with the loud cry of a raptor. He lands heavily on the jutting armor of Reave’s hip, his immense weight causing his step to dip heavily as he steadies the new imbalance. He does not otherwise acknowledge the bird now staring fiercely at Mazikeen. As he draws to a halt, he greets the pale mare familiarly, “I’m glad to see you survived the monsters intact.” He tilts his head, grin widening. “Relatively.”
Mazikeen’s head tilts upwards at the sight of the raptor, momentarily thinking it is Erne before realizing it’s something else entirely. She is trying to remember whether or not Reave had a companion when they had met in the forest when she sees the now-stallion coming towards her across the hardy vegetation of his home. Her pacing stops and she waits near the cliff for him to finish his approach, the ocean air tangling her mane around her curved horns and ruffling the feathers of her iridescent blue wings.
Though she had only seen a little of him in the forest when he had granted her the ability to see in the shadows, she recognizes now that the odd bulges in his skin back then had been these bones waiting to emerge - she’s never seen anything like it.
When he speaks - is not difficult at all to match his grin, a quiet laugh escaping her. It is a harsher sound than it would have been the first time they met but it is genuine. “Relatively. Though most of these came from a different sort of monster.” Mazikeen has no memories of what it felt like when Gale had taken her eyes and heart, she had already been unconscious, but she can imagine it well enough and such thoughts do nothing to diminish her smile.
Questions like how’ve you been no longer form easily on Mazikeen’s tongue, though she is curious. Instead, she just finishes her admiration for the young stallion Reave’s become - certainly fierce with that bone armour and the eagle on his back. When her orange gaze meets that of the eagle, her eyes temporarily change from her natural equine to a set that matches the harpy eagle perfectly. It’s with those eyes that she meets Reave’s gaze again, a faint hint of amusement in her grin as she remarks “You grew into your bones.”
There is none of the fear and hope he recalls from the last time they had met. Though he had been younger, less versed in his abilities, he had talent for it even then. Now there is only acceptance tangled in the memories of pain. It does not take him long to see how she had given herself over to it rather than allow it to tear her apart from the inside.
He finds himself immensely curious about this new development. The woman who stands before him is familiar, but almost everything about her feels different. She has been remade in more ways than one.
Perhaps he had been remade too, but he is still Reave at the center of it all. He is no longer the colt of his youth, but the tempestuous heart that has fueled him since birth remains. Harder perhaps, more callous, but still the same one that has always beat within him. She is different, the very essence of her, the things that fuel her, all changed from what he had once seen in a dark forest surrounded by monsters.
“I can see that,” he replies easily, head tilting at the harsh laughter. He does not elaborate however.
He doesn’t feel compelled to fill the gaps in conversation with inane chatter as he might once have done. When her gaze falls back to him, her eyes as sharp and golden as the raptor on his hip, the grin at the edges of his lips widens. He could sharpen his own eyes to match, but he does not. He has little interest in stirring that sort of competition.
Her words bring a brief laugh to his lips, shoulders rolling as he shifts his stance, legs tingling with the restlessness he always feels. “I did,” he agrees, eyes sparking as he peers at her, amused. “Or rather, they grew into me.”
He laughs again, Rune swaying as he shifts again. When the silence falls once more, his eyes fix on the horned mare with an intensity he hadn’t possessed the last time they met. “But I don’t think you’re here just to admire my bones.”
Mazikeen's grin grows a little when Reave laughs, remarking that his bones had grown into him. Had it been painful when they emerged? Were they still? Neither of these questions break the silence before he gets to the reason of her visit.
“No, not just to admire them.” She confirms, her eyes returning to the red-orange they have been defaulting to lately - since she had been changed. But why had she come here? Simple curiosity combined with her growing restlessness. The need to leave Hyaline and do something, even if it was only a conversation.
And Reave is so far easier to speak to than some of the others that knew her before. He’d seen her at her weakest, she’d told him her fears and her hopes, but even then she does not feel the same discomfort or the weight of before dragging on her. She is glad she hadn’t gotten around to visiting when she had first heard he had taken over Nerine - maybe it would’ve been worse now if she had.
She tells him the truth since there’s little reason to do otherwise. “I met Aela recently, and she suggested I come to visit.” Perhaps not the most interesting of reasons, especially since she does not know exactly what to talk about now that she is here. But Aela had shared a memory with her of Reave laughing and so she assumes the two might be close, so that might be enough. If the flaxen mare had any other reason for encouraging Mazikeen to go, she does not know what it might be.
Because it had been a topic with Aela as well, she remarks with a small smile - curious about whether Reave felt the same disdain for his brothers as his sister did. “You’ve quite the family, I’ve learned.”
He might have waited for her questions before pushing the conversation forward if he had any interest in discussing the bones he will wear for the rest of his life. Unfortunately what is new and intriguing to most is little more than a fact of life for him. Like a giant finding little amusement in discussing his own height, Reave finds in himself little joy in discussing the painful rupture of his own armor.
As a youth, Reave had appreciated her candidness. He finds himself still appreciating it, especially when she does not push.
Now, though he eyes the swirl of her memories weighted in their emotions, he does not push either. Not for her benefit so much as it simply does not behoove him to bring it up. It would almost certainly put her on the defensive, and he is enjoying the speculation of where she is leading this conversation too much to destroy it just yet.
He grins when she mentions his golden sister. Her name is on many lips these days - a fact he has been enjoying immensely. Others so often focus on the obvious machinations she deploys, ignoring the far more insidious ones she leaves behind. Mazikeen however, seems to hold no judgement. A fact the northern Guardian finds dangerously intriguing.
“Did she now?” he returns, blue eyes glinting. Eyes eerily similar to so many of his relations.
Mazikeen does not offer any reason beyond Aela’s suggestion, instead turning the conversation to Reave’s extensive family. To many, this would be little more than idle chatter. Reave however finds himself immensely amused. “Yes,” he agrees readily. There is little point in denying it. After a moment, he continues, “I’m surprised you were unaware.” His head tips slightly as the devilish smile on his lips grows. “Considering you gave birth to several of them.”
If Reave knows why Aela might have encouraged Mazikeen to visit Nerine, he isn’t free with the knowledge. Maybe neither of them know what Aela had been up to, if anything at all (though from Mazikeen’s short acquaintance with the other mare, she suspects Aela is more often up to something than nothing). Still, she isn’t yet sorry she’s come.
A short laugh escapes her at Reave’s devilish smile and the words that accompany it and she gives him a dark grin of her own, almost finding it easy. “Well. Two is not quite several but fair enough.” Whether there will be several in the future though, she doesn’t know. The Curse had once wanted more, but then he had changed his mind - wanting her in fighting condition even though the only fight they made was plucking one boy from his home. She doesn’t hope for more or for none, she doesn’t hope for anything anymore. If anything, there is simply no strong desire in her to be pregnant again - there is no fondness for the uncomfortable winter that had made for.
She doesn’t ask Reave immediately how he knows of her children though he’s certainly commanded every last bit of her attention with the mention of them. When was the last time anyone had spoken to her of them, apart from Gale? Had Aela known as well? Mazikeen had not thought anyone outside of Hyaline, with the exception of a few Tephran mares, knew she was a mother - and certainly not that there had been a twin to the son she now raises.
There are many questions to ask and instead of voicing them all at once, she tilts her head a little to the side as she regards Reave and blatantly fishes for information another way. “I suppose my ruse of having them raised in Tephra by someone else hasn’t worked if you know the truth.”
@Reave just casually flooding you with Maze posts today
Reave can guess why Aela had suggested Mazikeen come pay him a visit, and his guess is almost certainly correct. Though he has never tried to hide his abilities, his sly sister is one of the few who has ever realized just how fully he utilizes them. Aela has many tricks of her own, but she could not do what Reave can. And she has never been foolish enough to waste an opportunity to take advantage of them.
But there are things he does not share with anyone, not even his favored sibling.
He laughs when Mazikeen corrects his language, a faint shrug rolling over his shoulder as he returns his gaze to her. There is a distinct gleam in the blue hue, one that doesn’t quite match the humor on his lips.
He can nearly taste the suspcion that rises from at the revelation, though she does not otherwise react. But then, she must know he had revealed the knowledge for a reason. And he has little doubt she wants to find out that reason.
Perhaps he would even tell her.
The grin on his lips creeps back as she voices her suspicions. He shifts abruptly, causing Rune to squawk indignantly as he gives a short flap of his wings to keep his balance. A brief silence stretches between them before he chuckles. “Or I am just extremely good at ferreting out secrets.”
Mazikeen gets the uncomfortable idea that she needs to pick her questions carefully with Reave in order to get any satisfying answers (or maybe she just needs to be a little more blunt). Though she thinks she’ll be better at such games now without so many emotions to cloud her mind, she has more faith in the strength of her body than the strength of her mind.
These insecurities settle strangely inside of her and finally disappear when she reminds herself that she’s outsmarted the Curse more than once - back when he had given her things to outsmart him about. And she’s not trying to outsmart Reave - just to understand.
Regardless, she hadn’t known what to expect when she came here but she certainly doesn’t feel disappointed yet. He had been sharp when she had met him in the forest but there are even sharper edges to him now and she appreciates the change.
Reave keeps her attention well - her gaze not even shifting when the eagle squawks, a small smile remaining at his words though her eyes keep their intensity. It is not difficult to believe he might be a keeper of secrets - she'd been willing to answer whatever question he'd asked before and maybe that skill had been honed over the last few years.
The iridescent wings at her sides disappear and she is standing there simply as herself when she asks “Are my children, or my secrets, of any particular interest? Or do you just enjoy ferreting out the secrets of everyone?” Her tone contains nothing but curiosity - she does not believe it would matter either way. The first would be more interesting, to be sure, but she would not be disappointed if it was just that Reave enjoyed knowing all that he could.
Once she might have been even been curious about the secrets of others but today her intrigue is completely selfish.
Though Reave has never practiced the same level of sly intrigue that so many of his relations seem to enjoy, he could play the game well enough. Most of the time, he has little interest in genuine deception, but omission is another matter altogether. He would be incredibly foolish if he gave away everything he knows.
He has never claimed to be the cleverest of the lot, but he is not a fool either.
The Guardian is delighted to find that her attention has been captured however. He has already determined that the children do not hold the kind of value he is looking for. Others might seek to use them as pawns, but he is not others. He has no doubt Mazikeen would quickly realize that if she had not already. He would not have shared his knowledge of them with her otherwise.
His gaze is drawn briefly to the wings as they vanish, a gleam of humor in his vibrant eyes. Her question brings that humor to his lips. On a chuckle, he replies without hesitation, “Most horse’s secrets are boring.”
She is digging for information of course, but he doesn’t have any qualms about her knowing there are only certain secrets he is interested in. She must know she has been making waves. And much like he had been with the monsters, he is always keen to find out more about things that happen to be particularly… noisy.
“How are you enjoying my nephew’s company?” he continues casually, a devilish smirk growing on his lips as he eyes her with open amusement. “I had a fascinating conversation with his mother.” There is an impish light in his shrouded features, one that highlights the wicked turn of his lips. “Though I suppose by now you’ve had one of your own.”
