"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
08-27-2019, 02:16 PM (This post was last modified: 08-27-2019, 02:16 PM by Heartfire.)
She's got the devil's eyes
The generosity of Heartfire’s gift is dubious, at best. Of course, the woman beside her is clever enough to have realized that and distrustful enough to no doubt wonder what the catch is. Ironically, it was those very qualities that had stirred Heartfire to bestow it in the first place. Neverwhere had certainly not been in the meadow seeking favors. Indeed, she hadn’t seemed to seek anything at all. Perhaps the dappled mare might not understand her motivations, but it is those like Neverwhere Heartfire had always found housed within them the greatest potential.
Neverwhere doesn’t see it yet, she’s quite certain, but nevertheless, it is there.
Surprisingly enough, Heartfire has no desire to try and make her into something she’s not either. Her companion might fear the use of magic lest it turn her into nothing more than a power-hungry beast, but the roan woman had long ago learned that that is simply not how magic works. Heartfire understands power all too well, and such things are only as strong as the one who wields them.
Even the most spectacular of magics would be useless in the hands of one who hasn’t the will or knowledge to use it. And if Neverwhere feared what she could become, then the desire and will was already there. She need only learn that it matters not whether it manifests itself in a supernatural ability or not. After all, by all counts, Heartfire herself is both powerful and power hungry. But it is not more magic she lusts after. She knows too well such things can only take one so far.
She does not make idle chatter as they travel, instead dividing her attention between watching Neverwhere as she stares about them in child-like wonder and the path they walk. True to her word, she charts her course so that they pause at some of the more spectacular vistas along their path. A point overlooking the clear, stunning waters of Hyaline’s lake. A cliff with an unmatched view of the obsidian beaches of Silver Cove. A quiet glen surrounded by trees, soft sunlight filtering through to glint off the small waterfall as it burbles over mossy rock.
Until, eventually, they reach the coastal northern kingdom, with its sweeping cliffs and endless views of the untamed crashing of the ocean. Nerine.
09-02-2019, 09:37 PM (This post was last modified: 09-02-2019, 09:38 PM by Neverwhere.)
Anyone else might have asked. They might have asked why Heartfire gave them this gift, they might have asked the cost of it, they might have thanked her for it. Neverwhere does none of these things, indeed, their conversation is very limited on the trip to Nerine, and she is aware of those blue eyes watching her drink in the sights before her like a horse finding water after days searching in the desert. Her skin twitches, as if she feels the pointed gaze, like fly bites on her shoulder, but it is a small irritation nagging the back of her mind, and is nothing to the clear and shining lake, or the dark sands.
Black sand. It’s the details she gets lost in, the bubbling and splashing of the waterfall and the small spectrum that forms in its mist. The fallen logs within the Hyalinian lake that look as if she could touch them, though they are many, many, feet deep at the very bottom. Before meeting Heartfire, she would have known the lake was there, she would have seen it, smelled it, but she could never have estimated it’s clarity. She would never have guessed that water could be so clear. The dappled mare does not gape and exclaim, but she throws an occasional glance back to Heartfire, wonder and suspicion warring one another. These things are amazing, yet she cannot help but question them. Even as the details absorb her, she side-steps them, wary, waiting, searching for the lie she isn’t sure exists.
By the time they reach Nerine with its vast sea-cliffs and wild, wind-beaten, grass, the dappled mare has seen as many, if not more, impressive sights than she has seen in the few years of her traveling. As she once said to Lilliana in the forest, she has heard and smelled and felt many a beautiful view in that time, but to see them was a different thing entirely. Standing on the edge of a cliff with the air buffeting against you and the sound of waves crashing on rocks below, with the salt-scent in your nostrils and on your lips, these are elements of the experience, but to also see the dizzying height, the ocean fading into the sky an immeasurable distance away, and finned creatures rising fluidly in and out of the rolling waves, it could not be adequately described to someone that had never seen such things.
When Neverwhere and Heartfire finally come to a central area of Nerine where a few other horses scatter across the wind-whipped, grassy, plain, she is exhausted and eager to see the end of the trip, eager to close her eyes and not see once again. Nerine, at least for a little while. The dappled mare does not know what she will do if she does not have her wandering.
When was the last time I stopped? She ponders the question, but the answer is, she never did. Once she left her home, her hooves carried her, sometimes north, sometime west, but ever away. The idea that she might stay here forever chafes and chokes, like a lasso around her neck, but what harm is there in a short stay? Besides, there are still so many things to see and she will take advantage of that as long as the Nerinian queen sees fit to let her use it.
She never does things with the intention of receiving gratitude. She had learned a very long time ago that there is far too little of that in the world, and her efforts would be wasted if that is what she sought. The equine species is an inherently selfish one, she had found. So many wish only to see black and white, but she knows there is far more than that. The truly decent are few and far between, just as are the truly abhorrent. She had long ago come to the conclusion that nearly everyone who has ever existed falls somewhere in the middle.
That terribly ambiguous middle ground that everyone so loves to hate. And yet, to Heartfire, it’s fascinating. Endless facets to explore.
And that, more than anything else, is her end goal with this little experiment. Neverwhere might wonder why her. She might question the intent behind such a seemingly generous gift. But what she didn’t realize is just how perfect a representation of the ever ambiguous grey she is. For Heartfire, it is much more a test of her intuitive ability than any erroneously assumed goodwill one might try to paint her with.
She suspects however, that Neverwhere knows at least a portion of this. She is not laboring under any misconception of selfless generosity or kindness on Heartfire’s part. And that is what makes her so ideal. What would she ultimately choose to do with that knowledge and the gift she’d been given?
When they have finally reached the central flats of Nerine, it’s clear Neverwhere had grown exhausted from the fascinated observation of sights she hadn’t seen in too long. Anyone else might have asked questions, tried to pry, to discover how she is finding this newfound ability. Heartfire does not. Instead she peers rather placidly at Neverwhere, her still features leant to thoughtfulness rather than any other more curious emotion. It is only after Neverwhere stops peering around and begins considering the ramifications more in depth that Heartfire finally speaks.
“I hope you enjoyed the sights. It’s yours to keep, for the time.” She tilts her head slightly, blue gaze inscrutable as she watches her companion. “You’re free to go, if you like. Or stay as your prefer. Nerine will welcome you.”
With that, she turns to leave. To allow Neverwhere some peace to rest. After only a few steps however, she pauses before turning to glance back at the dappled mare with a wry tilt to her lips, her words rather dry as she says, “And thank you. For humoring me.”