"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
That frigid northern wind, tinged with scents of sea and charred earth, beckoned him onward. And so onward he flew, dark wings carrying him to the heart of this frozen kingdom, his midnight pelt drab in comparison to the beauty of its evening sky; for there the aurora borealis danced with those shimmering shades of azure and emerald playing against one another in a never-ending flirtation. For all his years, for all his scars, for all that he was, still Cassiell could admire the beauty of that sky.
And admire it he did.
Strong wings surging in self-assured strokes, the brute continued on in his foray, forging ever-deeper into a territory he had no business being in. And while he flew, his molten gaze skimmed the granite island unfurling far below, its scarred surface telling a story just as surely as his own marred form told such a tale all its own. But as for the story in question? Being a stranger to these lands, he couldn't even begin to guess at what had happened here. The black glass shimmered upon the beach like so many broken dreams. The charred trees of the forest in the distance gaped at him in a grotesque pantomime of a smile. And then there was the fire -- those blue flames which burned with all the insatiable fury of the devil himself there beside that heart-shaped lake.
The irony of it all.
It was to that latter point that the midnight pegasus was inevitably drawn, his curiosity luring him in closer and closer until hooves of tarnished bronze were finally digging into the earth there at the lakeside to carry him onward on foot. Wings tucking alongside his ribcage, he lifted his skull heavenward and tested at the air, nostrils flaring as he drank in deeply of the various scents ghosting along the frigid breeze. Upon his subsequent exhale, his breath unfurled before him in wisps of fog like dragon smoke as he drew to a pause before the burning tree. Azure flames reflected within the depths of his golden gaze, he simply stood there and looked upon the peculiar sight of it all -- an ebon phantom in truth on this night as he was being bathed in the flickering tongues of that never-failing, eerie glow.
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
She had been away from the Isle longer than last time and had done so on purpose. After her latest encounter with Gale, after all the new creative ways he had come up with to break her this time, she was slow to come back home. There had been the slow trek to Tephra after to deal with her injuries (slow steps taken as she had painfully dragged her broken wings behind her) but even after she had finally healed she had stayed away. She hadn’t wanted to see the renewed worry in Leokadia’s pale eyes, hadn’t wanted to face Nashua with yet another failed encounter with the Curse. She was sure he would blame her for her own foolishness despite the fact that Gale had found her instead of vice versa.
Still the Isle was home and she knew she could not stay away forever.
She had finally arrived late that evening, hoping to avoid the others and have a moment of quiet to herself. Her hooves crunch through the fresh layers of snow, starlit wings folded over her sides and adding additional coverage from the cold. Her stars remain the same bloody hue that they had turned into ever since that argument with Nash on the burnt remains of the beach. Silvery scars seem to cover most of her smoky black pelt but she is no longer self-conscious of them like she had once been. Every scar told a story and the most recent one slashed across her chest speaks of the chapter where she died and came back to life. The marker of the endless black rage that storms her mind and flares around her fiery heart that just refuses to quit.
The Northern Thane strides towards the lake, catching a dark figure in the distance. Her wings flare around her, the red stars blazing as the crimson aura covers her and she looks once more like the dark angel of death she felt like. The swirls of her eyes had not slowed, her pupils still hidden beneath the blinding silver that shines from her sockets, as they narrow in on the tall stallion that she’s quickly approaching. He is gazing at the blue flames of the tree and she finally settles herself before him, the savage scar across her eye twisting as she flares her nostrils and glares at him. In normal circumstances she would have greeted him more kindly but life lately had been anything but normal.
He is much taller and bigger than her but what she lacks in height she makes up for in presence as she stares up at him, taking note of his own scars and stories. “What brings you to the Isle in the middle of the night stranger?” She asks him quietly but there is an unspoken threat in her tone, that rolling anger flaring behind her starlight eyes as she wonders if this is yet another trick in disguise, sent by the Curse of Hyaline.
He heard her, sensed her, and smelled her all at once, though he made no move to turn and gaze upon the one approaching him in the darkness. There was the crunch of delicate hooves upon the snow which sent his right ear to flicking momentarily as he took note of the sound. There was the telltale hint of her scent toying upon the frigid breeze -- a scent he drank in of deeply and carefully filed away for later perusal. And then there was something else entirely, an aura, a feeling that grazed against him as he stood, stoic and still, beneath the caress of the never-wavering azure fire. It was rage, a clear and palpable sensation, as though the mare's anger had taken on a life all its own.
And then there she was before him, scarred and dark and wreathed in crimson starlight. He looked down upon her, clearly unrepentant despite his intruder status. Hot and intense as it ever was, his molten gaze was unwavering as it skimmed the femme's countenance, her form, her wings, before finding her swirling eyes again.
Still silent, still unmoving aside from the rise and fall of his chest as he drew in breath and the puffs of fog which unfurled past his nostrils with each exhalation, the winged stallion continued to merely watch, to take her all in, for a few moments more before he finally breathed out a single word in way of answer to her question: "Curiosity." That collection of syllables was soft between them, as though he was confiding a great secret to her. Or perhaps it was something else entirely which brought his rumbling baritone down to an almost intimate volume on this particular occasion. Something about the clear scars this land bore -- so like the scars which littered the petite yet fiery creature before him -- which lent a hushed quality to his tone.
The Isle she had called this place. A fitting enough name he supposed, all things considered. Yet another piece to the puzzle that was Beqanna which he was slowly, so slowly, beginning to solve. But there were still so many questions he had yet to ask, still so many secrets which had yet to be uncovered. All in due time, he knew. But still. He hungered to know.
Looming over the other as was his general way, still the great brute broadcast a clear, relaxed sort of stance. No muscle was tensed. His body wasn't poised to strike. For all that he could have posed a threat -- a hulking stranger lurking in the darkness -- he did his best to showcase that he wasn't one. Not right now, at any rate. Not tonight.
"But," he spoke again, his dark, thundering voice a mere murmur. "Perhaps you can sate said curiosity in a small way." With his head canting ever-so-slightly to the side, he drank in again of the scarred femme's scent before asking quite plainly, "Are you the lady of these lands?"
all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was
Curiosity.
If one could still see the pupils in her brilliant eyes perhaps they might sense them narrowing. However they remain hidden within the blurred silver threads that spin with the rising tide of her anger as she looks up at him square in the face. And scowls. “Oh? And what could have made you so curious to cross the sea for some ice and a burned beach?” She is quick to retort, her stars glowing in a red threat of their own. Nashua might have scolded her for such behavior, Leilan might have reminded her of her title and what she had promised to bring to such a position. Yet neither of them were here and she was no longer that girl filled with bright hope when she had first stepped foot on the tundra seeking a new promising opportunity.
The only future she sees now is death.
All she hungers for is revenge.
Still, she notices the small signs in him of loosening muscles and the relaxed pose he takes and forces herself to swallow back some of that anger that threatens to explode from her and burn him to cinders. She was still the Thane of the North and the warrior in her recognized this beast of a stallion making an effort to appear unthreatening. Although she does not trust him, she decides to give him a sliver of a chance to assess his character. And if he failed to impress she could also send a kick to his temple with an easy flutter of her wings in a move that even the Curse would be proud of. He had taught it to her after all.
His voice is still soft enough to bring her curved ears all the way to him and this time there is a small glimmer of amusement when she snorts at him, scoffing. The lady of the lands indeed. She can’t recall when anyone had ever referred to her as a lady before and she almost grins at the thought until the swell of her rage washes over her again. “Lady? No.” She finally says tersely, still firmly planted before him as the arctic winds ran icy fingers through her exposed separated feathers. “I’m Ciri, the Thane of the Isle. You’re looking for Nashua who rules the whole of the North.” She pauses, tilting her head up to him as she brazenly stares him down. “Though I’m the curious one now and perhaps you could sate it by telling me what exactly your looking for.”
