"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
The silver-girl took her time turning herself in to the Valley. She had only just returned - only just seen Ramiel again before she was stolen away. It was good timing, for her at least; her feelings for Ramiel made her uncomfortable. He loved her, she knew that, but it was easier for him to be there for her. She wasn’t ready to show her weaknesses yet. She didn’t know if she ever would be.
While she isn’t completely outraged to be stolen, she is annoyed. The Valley would never be her first choice in home. The land is beautiful: the ground rocky, with patches of grass and trees growing thicker from the small meadow in the middle to the mountains that outlined its border. But it is also a bit cliché - the darkness, the wolves guarding the border. Perhaps some are intimidated by it, but Ea finds it silly.
She finds most of the Valley’s inhabitants silly, too. Though they are no longer the evil kingdom, their reputation has followed them, and it isn’t a positive one. They’re boorish, quick to fight and use their powers, which Ea finds weak. Once her mother had finished training Ea how to hone her powers, she rarely used them -- they were a crutch, or something to mess with when bored. Fighting is beneath her, too; only those who don’t know how to get what they want in other ways resort to violence.
Ea comes to a stop at the border, but doesn’t announce herself. She lowers her head instead and calmly picks at the grass below. Surely they’d want to greet their prisoner quickly.
I have seen the night torn into thin darkling strips
and woven into shapes too bleak for dreams.
He would disagree with all of her thoughts, if he could read minds. But of course, he can’t, so perhaps it works in her favor. Though really, he wouldn’t sit here and argue points anyway, because he honestly doesn’t care that much. He doesn’t care if anyone thinks he’s a brute. Fighting is simply fun, it’s a chance to stretch his muscle and move and a chance to play with the darkness that rules his veins. He’s grown used to the fact that darkness is misunderstood, that it is feared because it is simply unknown. He’s grown used to the fact that perhaps his wolves are cliché, but really, if you asked Rhonan to tell you what that even meant, he probably couldn’t. Not that he’s stupid, but rather that living in apathy works out pretty well for him.
Like now, when he nearly just ignores the mare standing on the border, grazing at the Valley grass and smelling horribly like the Dale. Not that he dislikes the Dale. Again, he just doesn’t care. He only ever picked the Valley as a home for all the shadows, but when you’ve seen the end of the world and voted someone away to be tortured, there are few other places for you to go live. Noah, however, creeps into the corner of his vision as Rhonan’s about to slip past, giving him that disappointed glare that Rhonan has grown so used to.
Damn. He rolls his eyes toward the ghost of his friend and turns course. He’s all black today, like he usually his, wearing the shadows like a second skin. He’s gotten particularly good at this one, and he’s be surprised if anyone actually noticed that he wasn’t simply a black horse. The shadows ripple and move like his coat should over his muscles, and even look like they are made of individual pieces of hair. He’s been practicing this one for a while, because he really hates being pretty pretty princess colored.
“Can I help you?” he asks, obviously not knowing why she’s here. But then again, he’s not the one that captured her, and even he would assume a captive would have been greeted by their captor by now.
She knew that their reputation preceded them, but she also didn’t care. The days of murder pits and dark Gods being summoned were far behind them, though she would never deny that some among them probably shared those ideals. They weren’t the ideals of the kingdom as a whole though, and they certainly weren’t hers. If anything she strived to distinguish the kingdom as more than their bloody history (a bloodline that ironically flowed through her own veins). While there was no bloodthirsty edge to her (at least, one form of her), she was not weak and she refused to be underestimated. The Valleys unlikely queen was a quiet strength. Like the mountains that surrounded their home, it would take more than a couple of winds to move her. Like the mountains, she would protect their home to the best of her ability. Powers and clichés aside, this was her home and as such, deserved nothing short of her best.
Perhaps because of her new predatory alter ego, or perhaps just because of the overall strangeness of the smell, the new mare does not go unnoticed. Raising her head from the grass the queen stared in the direction, mulling over exactly what the mare was doing here. It was likely a visit from another kingdom or something of the like. Whatever the reason, Topsail made her way to investigate, mentally reining in the beast in her breast. She often found it sniffing the air hopefully anytime there was a stranger in their midst. It didn’t take her long though to stamp it down, just as it didn’t take her long to reach their visitor. She wasn’t the first though, and she sent a small half smile in Rhonan’s direction. At their last kingdom meeting he had made his feelings known, likely hoping to put a damper on Topsail’s plan and enthusiasm. He was sorely mistaken though, and if anything it had fueled her on farther. Turning from the shadow wielder and back to the mare, she replaced the half smile with one more genuine. “Welcome to the Valley. Topsail.” she said, allowing her voice to slip into the silver bay’s mind. Of course, she knew exactly who she was. Ea, of the Dale…their newest captive. But knowing that also gave her insight into Ea’s feelings on one using their powers too freely, so she refrained. But knowing what she now knew was enough.
topsail
even an army of sheep should be feared, if they are being led by the lion
Ea
