"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
Ramiel takes a final look back at his kingdom, its peaks and valleys covered in the season’s white blanket, before he moves away from it.
It is time to get the ball rolling on their relationships with the other kingdoms. He’s sent out envoys already, but these were mostly for pleasantries’ sake. None of the diplomats had returned with intentions of an alliance from the other lands. Not even the Tundra, their old ally from the days of the Blood Alliance, had seemed willing to retain their ties. It’s troubling when so many of the kingdoms are as quiet – if not more so – than the Dale. Alliances are necessary in this day and age, especially now that everything has been thrown into chaos. Gone are the days of light and dark, mythical and non-mythical. Their well-defined, labeled lands are now open to all.
He thinks some of the places will cling to their old habits, though.
The grey king moves northwest, through the hills that grow less and less steep as he goes. The great forests between the neutral kingdoms appear shortly after. He spends a little time exploring, but never wandering far from the path. He thinks Weir would have enjoyed these woods, dark and thick as they are, so different from the sparse, piney woods of the Dale. The creatures are more abundant, too. He recognizes white-tailed deer and foxes, but some of the insects and turtles he’s never seen before.
Well, that’s not quite true. He’s been doing a bit of snooping, to be honest.
It’s all too easy to travel as a ghost, invisible and undetectable by other horses. Ramiel had made this exact trip only weeks ago. So this time, when he reaches the Falls, he knows exactly where to go to find the kingdom center. He doesn’t, of course. This is an official trip and it wouldn’t do to simply waltz into the watery kingdom like he’d been there before, even if he had. In truth, he had wanted to check in on his brother. The burnt man had long ago disappeared from the Dale. Ramiel didn’t even know him (had only met him once, as a small boy) but he certainly wanted to. His mother had waxed poetic about the sabino for as long as he could remember. And being young and naïve at the time, he had mistaken her words for praise rather than affection – even now, he doesn’t understand.
He’d seen the way Tiberios’ leaving had affected Talulah. He had been upset in the way any boy would at losing his big brother, even if they hardly knew each other. Over time, he’d let the matter drop entirely: if Tiphon’s other son wanted to piss on his homeland, it was his business. But Ramiel’s curiosity had gotten the better of him. As a ghost, he’d watched as the stallion was made king of the falls. As he stands now, visible to all, he wonders if some loyalty still lingers in the man. If any trace of the former Dalean lives on, maybe he’ll be agreeable to a relationship.
If nothing else, Ramiel will know what kind of man he is either way, once and for all.
If Tiberios had known that he was literally being watched by a ghost, he probably would’ve lost a bit of sleep at night. Of course, he knows the figurative saying about being watched by one’s loved ones who are gone (his mother watches over him, he likes to think) but this is a bit more close to home than he realizes. He hasn’t seen Ramiel since the boy was, well, a boy, but that’s obviously changed. In fact, Ramiel is the only sibling of his that he’s ever met. Despite Tiphon’s offspring being plentiful, Tiberios had never run across one of his blood relatives. He doubted he ever wanted to. But Ramiel is different, special, and he knows this. The boy’s mother is important to both Tiberios and Tiphon, and Tiberios had opted to leave the Dale rather than to stay and wallow in pain.
It would be a bit hard to explain that all to the grown boy now.
Tiberios certainly can’t call him a boy, he hardly recognizes him as he comes to greet him at the border. There’s a definition to his features that screams Tiphon, but a softness and determination to his eye that reminds him of Talulah. It made it easier to like him, even though they were practically strangers. The charred sabino smiles, ears rising with familial happiness as he stops in his tracks. “Ramiel, it’s been too long.” He begins, unsure of how to proceed. “Please, make yourself at home.” The new king steps aside, amber gaze glancing over his younger half-sibling with sharp curiosity.
“How’s the Dale? I haven’t heard much since I left.” He comments, openly putting the matter of his past on the table for both of them to acknowledge. He had no shame about his choice to leave, and if Ramiel had other ideas about why he’d gone, then it was because Talulah had chosen not to explain the extent of their history to her son. Despite this all, Tiberios is glad to have Ramiel here. There’s something about family that never fades - and he was willing to help no matter what request the other stallion had.
As he waits, he takes the opportunity to further study the kingdom. He can’t see much from his stationary position on the border, but what he can’t see now, he’s likely seen on his first trip here. It is still beautiful, despite the snow covering most of the grounds and foliage, but he imagines it is even more so come spring. He imagines the dense forest comes alive with birds and animals then. Some of the trees, now slumbering away in their nakedness, probably bloom and supply the fauna with their fruits. The land itself is gentler here than back home. There are no jagged peaks framing the distant borders; no steep valleys pull the earth down. And while its soft, temperature nature might be a draw for some, he can’t imagine living without the wild, ruggedness of the Dale. There is a river cutting through the land, at least (eventually giving way to the famous Falls). He appreciates this feature most of all.
But Ramiel isn’t kept in his own opinion of the kingdom for long before he’s joined by its king.
“Tiberios,” he says, his voice carefully neutral. He wants to be ecstatic at the reunion, at this chance to finally get to know his brother. But that old, tricky prejudice rises up like bars over his heart. He thinks of his mother’s face every time she mentions the sabino, how it seems to fall like so many leaves when they talk about the man. Although he remembers, too, the last time they had spoken several days prior. She had been happier than she’d been in months – years, even. Ramiel had smelled something on her that he couldn’t place, some ashy, crisp scent. He wonders now if they’d met. He hopes they’ve put it all behind them, whatever trouble had come between them. Perhaps he can, too.
The charcoal-colored stallion shakes his head as if emerging from a fog and takes in the other with a warmer, genuine smile. To new beginnings, he tells himself. And really, it is a beginning. He’s only seen the burnt man once before in his life. Any progress they make is truly new territory for the both of them. He’s glad Tiberios seems receptive to him, anyway. “Thank you.” Ramiel takes him up on his invitation and moves past the invisible border, and unlike the first time, his feet leave prints in the snow. He tries to appear like he’s taking in the kingdom, looking appreciatively at his surroundings before returning his gaze to the king.
“The Dale is well. It seems to be weakening in its resolve to remain uninhabited.” His lips quirk at the corners at his own jest. Some might consider it foolhardy to openly admit to activity struggles, but with Tiberios, he has little concern. The man had lived there before Ramiel was even born. If anyone knows of the historical difficulties of the quiet kingdom, he is among them. Besides, he is family. Surely that will hold some weight between the brothers, won’t it?
“A passing ghost told me that congratulations are in order, though.” He dips his large grey head in acknowledgement, the gold strands in his hair glinting in the bright, winter sunlight. When he looks back up, his eyes are drawn to Tiberios’ own gold, running in a blaze down his face. Seeing their familiar mark finally pushes away any hesitation on his part. If anything, their blood connection can lead to a greater connection between both of their kingdoms. Ramiel is not looking to reinstate the Blood Alliance by any means, but by the same token, his reason for wanting some sort of a relationship with the Falls is not entirely unselfish, either. They have a chance to build something here. They need to act sooner rather than later, also. Already, rumors of the Chamber flexing its muscles have reached the common areas. He wonders who else is willing to play with the once-dark (and still-dark, apparently) kingdom.
“I know you’re likely still settling in,” he says, referencing the new ascension. Ramiel had certainly needed a period of time to get used to it. “But you are right, it’s been far too long. I regret not seeking you out sooner, brother.” The word is strange on his tongue, but he’s glad to finally use it in a positive context. He flicks his tail, half of it disappearing as it strikes across his back before reappearing as it falls. It’s a nervous habit of his, one that perhaps reveals who he’d been referencing earlier. “Are you amenable to some sort of relationship between our kingdoms? We’d be seeing a lot more of each other, if you are.” He smiles then, trying to move past the somber air of his previous comments.
There’s a moment when Tiberios is unsure whether or not his younger sibling has come due to anger in his heart, or with hope for amending the past. His initial greeting is closed off, cold. The spotted man watches him enter, amber gaze carefully assessing his body language and his mannerism. He understands if Ramiel dislikes him, he’d even understand if he hated him, but he still longs for the chance to prove to the other stallion that good could come of their situation. With his gaze backwards, followed by a much more elated smile, Tiberios can sense that Ramiel is giving him his second chance.
The Falls king moves forward, joining Ramiel’s pace with easy countenance and just like that they fall into a rhythm that had never before been set. Even though Tiberios knows nothing of the greying horse's nature, he knows that Tiphon’s blood flows freely through them both, so trust is not an issue. He wants Ramiel to feel like the Falls is a home away from home, and that he himself can be trusted too. “I know the feeling all too well.” He chortles in reply, gazing out to the barren land around him. It wasn't uncommon for the neutral kingdoms to fall into a lull in times of peace, but these days it seemed like those times were beginning to fade.
His mention of the ghost has Tiberios offering a puzzled look. He misses the swish of the others tail, and dismisses the phrase as some sort of Dalean lingo. However, when Ramiel dips his head and the golden strands of his mane glitter against his skin, Tiberios feels something else begin to take root. He feels guilt for leaving Ramiel behind, knowing that if he had stayed he could have cemented some sort of unbreakable bond with the boy. But pain had ripped him of this chance, and he’s unspeakably glad that fate has brought them together again. He catches Ramiel’s eye, wandering briefly over the golden blaze that runs rampant down his nose, and Tiberios senses the unspoken understanding.
“Both princes, now Kings.” He mumbles, smiling briefly. The change of pace has his mind switching gears though, and Ramiel moves on to the matter of Kingdom relations. Tiberios isn’t wounded by this urgency for business, he understands that a Kingdom and her people come before family strife. Besides, now that they had broken the proverbial ice, there would be plenty of time to talk about other things later, when war didn’t loom like an omnipresent cloud over them all. “An alliance would be practical and expected between us, but I can’t accept without warning you first.”
Here, he pauses, stopping so that he can face Ramiel brother to brother. What he says will be confidential, a secret to hold them together. “I have intentions of making the Chamber a close ally. I understand what Straia has done, what she continues to do, but I won’t risk the lives of my people - few as they are - just so that I can say I stood up against her. It may be morally wrong, but I won’t have the blood of this Kingdom resting on my conscious.” He sighs, eyes turning away to the snow-ridden kingdom around him. Choices had to be made, and it was his duty to make them and be labeled by them. “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” He whispers before turning back to his companion. “If the Dale accepts a seat on our newly established council, you will be loosely tied to the Chamber.” He says, watching Ramiel with a conflicted eye. “They have my son.”
As they walk, Ramiel grows more and more confident of his decision to come here. He’s glad he’s moved passed the once-firm line he’d drawn for himself - to not approach his brother until his mother had healed from whatever rift formed between the two. He’s wanted to, of course. So many times as a boy he had thought about finding Tiphon’s lost son. Joscelin would be up for the challenge, he had told himself, surely their parents wouldn’t protest too loudly if they went off together to find him. But his resolve had weakened over the years, crumbled like Talulah’s once brave face.
Now, everything is different.
The further they progress into the kingdom, the more comfortable Ramiel grows in the shadow of his kin. The sunlight catches on both of their golden badges, giving the air a warm, gilded quality around them. It’s as if the world itself is grateful for this one, small reconciliation, this step towards setting things right again. In that moment, the Dalean king realizes he doesn’t regret not seeking Tiberios out sooner. Understanding why he doesn’t comes with the other’s comment. Both princes, now kings. He smiles back at the burnt man. Pride swells in his chest like the return of a friend, but this time, it’s not only for him or his home. They’ve done okay for themselves.
Ramiel’s thoughts turn to their father, briefly, and his smile falters. He’s surprised when Tiberios doesn’t ask after the angel. It must be several years since he’s seen Tiphon; perhaps he’s not ready to resolve everything just yet. Their porcelain sire has only recently returned, anyway. And though it had been jarring to simultaneously gain the throne and lose his father all at once, Ram thinks he’s more or less managed. Certainly he’d rather have his father at his back, but maybe he’d needed time to recuperate after his own time as leader of the mountain-land. Whatever the case may be, he’s overwhelmingly happy to have him again. And now, he thinks maybe Tiberios will have him, too. “You are welcome back to the Dale anytime, of course. I’m sure your company would be in great demand.” He grins easily, knowing how flippantly he’s regarded a somewhat delicate situation. Ah well. Time to move forward, right?
But their talk becomes less sentimental and more business-like at his behest. The grey is confident there will be talks at later dates reserved for their unshared past, but for now, the Dale is his primary concern. Tiberios seems to understand at least, and he delves into his own intentions for his kingdom. Ramiel doesn’t hide his surprise at the confession that spills from his brother’s mouth. The Chamber has stolen the Falls prince? My nephew, he realizes, his pride mixing with a new horror that floods his stomach. He knows what the Chamber has recently accomplished. Their burning of the Gates and stealing of its queen is all the talk of the common lands these days. What will they do to a little boy?
Nothing is ever as easy as it should be, and this alliance seems to fit that unfortunate truth. He’d thought this would be a simple transaction, an expected relationship, as Tiberios had said. But he sees now that he’d been wrong to assume. It takes him a while to respond, his mind weighing his options, before he turns back to the sabino. “I think we need somewhere more private to talk.” Ramiel steps alongside the stallion so that their shoulders touch. He’s never tried this from somewhere other than the beach and those rising, granite cliffs. But he closes his eyes and concentrates, and he feels the land of the living relinquish them.
The now-familiar smell of the salt air hits him first as they emerge onto the shores of the afterlife. No longer overwhelmed by the sights and smells of the alien place, he turns instantly to his brother. Already, Tiberios looks older than he had just seconds before, back in the Falls. Ramiel looks different, too. He’s opaque; his edges are blurred, as if he is in motion even when he is still. “Did I mention I was a ghost?” He grins his see-through mouth at Tiberios, rather enjoying himself despite the serious reason he’d brought the man here. “Sorry for the surprise, but you can’t be too careful these days,” he says, sobering up when he remembers the missing prince. With as many magicians and new abilities that they encounter seemingly daily these days, he wanted to take no chances. The future of their kingdoms counts on it, after all. “As long as our representative need only visit rather than live in the Falls, we accept a seat on your council and an alliance between our kingdoms.” His golden eyes narrow when he thinks of the next part, if there should be an issue. “And should the Chamber try anything, you will have our backs and the Amazons, most likely. Our sister is there assuring our alliance with the Sisterhood.” The weight of his words is heavy on his tongue and consciousness. He realizes that in making these decisions, he’s potentially influencing history itself. More importantly, though, he’s possibly changing the lives of his people.
When he’s transported, Tiberios feels a sensation akin to being ripped in half. Not entirely painful, but incredibly uncomfortable. In the afterlife, he takes a weak step to the side and shakes his head, turning to look at Ramiel with disbelief. A ghost? It’s hard not to believe, with the tangy smell of ancient ruin in his nostrils and Ramiel a see-through entity. The sabino feels something like a headache beginning to form in his temple. Ramiel mentions being careful and Tiberios remembers then what they were discussing - the Chamber, his son. It makes sense now, to be in a place where words can finally be kept between only those who speak to each other.
He laughs, despite the awkwardness, and feels his heart warm to his half-brother. Ramiel talks and Tiberios listens, interjecting only when the time is right. “Of course they don’t need to stay.” He says, “Malka’s own seat is just a representation, there’s nothing binding keeping her here anymore.” That doesn’t keep the mare from staying, though, and Tiberios is glad of that. She’d been an invaluable help around his silent home. Texas too, though he was proving to be something of a pain in his side. “Our sister?” He asks, confused at the notion. Ramiel had been the only sibling he solidly knew of - they had a sister, in the Amazons?
Ramiel's consent to aid the Falls in times of need is nothing short of reassuring, allowing the burnt man to exhale with relief. “Straia’s gone mad with power, she’s got magicians to back her too. It’ll take a miracle to stop her from doing anything that she thinks of.” It could be done, of course, but at a great cost. His own throne is still shaky, he knows. Already he’s had to sacrifice himself to show face against her, and it’d done nothing but given her a reason to openly mock him. “Thank you Ramiel.” Tiberios says, eyeing him with earnest affection. “I guess the only question is - who will represent the seat for the Dale?”
A smile rouses on his lips, and the Falls king looks around him, thinking about where they were. His mother was here - somewhere, wandering through the afterlife. He wonders (with little hope) if Ramiel could find her. Miraposa. But he won’t waste the other King’s time. She was gone, and it wasn’t wise to linger in a world where Tiberios wasn’t supposed to be.
Tiberios
