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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    we're all a little stronger than we think we are, any
    #1
    She shakes her head as if to clear away her murky thoughts, but nothing becomes any clearer as she does. Father has vanished—it has been years since she has seen him—and Mother… oh, it is too painful to think about. She has not seen her since the earthquakes that wracked their homeland. She searched and search for a body, and even though one never turned up, she fears the worst for her mother. Kindling had never come across as the type who needed protection—and surely Father had been more than enough protection for her—but she should’ve stuck by her side. If she’d been injured… Cress could’ve healed her.

    She could’ve prevented her mother from dying.
    If she’s even dead.
    But if she isn’t dead, then why did she abandon her infant daughter?

    And so, like so many others in Beqanna, Cress has grown up without her parents’ help. She has raised herself on the outskirts of the Valley that has been forever changed by the magic that seemingly swept all of the kingdoms (not that she would know, she has never left the Valley in her short life). A new king rules now, and while Cress has no reason to dislike him—other than the fact that he dethroned her father—she has never felt so alone. The kingdom is no longer quiet but her mind is too distracted.

    She just feels so lost. So young and so, so lost.

    She wonders if there is anyone out there who would recognize her name if she spoke it to them. Would they perk up, interested to know the offspring of two Valley monarchs, or would they see her father in her stocky build and her mother in her delicate face? More likely than not she is just another face in the crowd that will just be overlooked or ignored. She is average, too young and awkward to yet be pretty. Her coat gleams like copper and her mane and tail contrast brilliantly with her darker body, but there is nothing distinguishable about her. She isn’t dark and handsome like her father; she isn’t sleek and pale like her mother. She is just another lonely filly; one with an incredible ability.

    The girl is nervous as she leaves her home, but not nearly as nervous as she thought she would be. It is time to leave; there is nothing tethering her to the place, so why stay? Her parents are gone. She has no siblings that she knows of and even if she did, she doesn’t know their names. So she moves on, even though she doesn’t know where she’ll end up. Her tired feet drag her to the edge of a meadow that seems to glow with activity; this must be the Meadow. The Meadow, where so many friends and enemies and lovers are made. Oh, the stories she has heard!

    Suddenly she is nervous. She has no one in this life; neither friends nor family to guide her through this, to teach her how to live her life. She is more than nervous, she is terrified. What is she going to do with all this freedom?



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    #2
    We do what we must,
    Because we can.


    So, about Cress' mother.

    Out of all the things that Camrynn has done, she regrets exactly none of them. Least of all the things she did to Kindling. I mean, the mare had QUITE LITERALLY asked for it. Maybe not the part where Camrynn had resurrected her dead ex-lover (reanimated Osric had been quite the treat, for her at least) but definitely the part where she'd begged for a new identity, begged to forget everything and start fresh.

    And Camrynn, merciful creature that she is, had been happy to grant the request. All she'd asked in return was a favor, and she'd even let Kindling off easy with that.

    The mare had been meant as a gift for Eight. Camrynn had sent her to the Valley, knowing that she had history there but not really caring. She'd just cared that she wanted to do something nice for Eight, while he was off on his interstellar wanderings. She knew he'd come back, and she did the equivalent of having dinner on the stove for when he got there.

    But naturally, Kindling hadn't held up her end of the bargain, and really, Cam feels like she just hasn't quite wiped out her debt.

    Cam is never biased about such things.

    She isn’t surprised when she hears the girl's thoughts echoing around the meadow. Camrynn is rarely surprised by things, at least not mortal things. She doesn't even feel bad about it; Kindling had quite literally begged her, she'd just taken pity and agreed. And taken a favor in return.

    Before she even leaves the Deserts, she knows things about the child. She can feel the gift of healing that sits within her heart like a warm stone, a sweet, almost tender type of magic that immediately draws Camrynn in. The girl's history unfolds in the magician's mind like a storybook, pages flipping past impossibly quickly and yet she comprehends it all. Poor thing, to think her parents are dead, she thinks without true sadness. It is better this way, better for her to think them dead and gone than to know the truth.

    Or, at least, it's better for now. Camrynn has a way of staying mum on sensitive topics until bringing it up is of most advantage to her.

    With a sigh she appears on the fringes of the meadow, in the trees and well out of sight of the girl. True to her promise to Yael, she appears in her true form. She is black, the kind of true sheen-black that is almost never seen on real horses. Her mane and tail are impossibly detangled, floating gently on the breeze, her tail full and easily long enough to brush the ground. Her eyes are a delicate shade of green-gold today, a homage to the gentle beauty of the waning summer. A proud crook and flail shine metallic gold across her chest, and a delicate line of gemstones traces like a necklace across her cheek.

    She approaches the girl with an easy grace, her footfalls naturally quiet, but not so silent as to be unheard. She says nothing, moving to stand beside Kindling's daughter, to join her in looking out across the meadow. "Impressive, isn't it?" she says with a sleek smile as she glances to Cress. Her voice is like velvet, warm, welcoming, and infinitely pleasant.

    As usual, she holds all the cards in this conversation – and she's got aces up her sleeves and a stacked deck.

    "First time here?" she glances to the girl again as she speaks, but it is the easy glance of a potential friend, not the predatory glance that you might expect from a magician like Camrynn. She looks directly at Cress now, and her smile is sweet. "You just look like someone who's a long way from home."


    C A M R Y N N
    Why? Because I can

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