The winter had never been harsher. Yanhua could deal with the cold, could even make do without the limited resources that grew seasonally for his family to eat, and when the sun had lit his and Amarine’s way up the mountainside even that hadn’t been so much of a trial, but in the dark? In this hellscape of shadows? There had never been anything so dangerous or threatening to him. The source of life was gone and it would surely have an impact in the months to come. Without the sun’s rays how were the crops meant to grow and flourish? How would Yanhua provide for his children? He awoke from fitful slumber every day (or every night; Yan wasn’t sure which was what anymore) and did his best to do anything, find anything as a means of distraction lest he crumble from the weight of anxiety.
He and Amarine had one test to complete, yes… but what about the grand scheme? What good was building a home and legacy if there was no legacy in the end?
Too full of questions and longing for answers, Yanhua headed north toward Nerine. He’d not seen or heard from Leilan or his brother, Nashua, since the eclipse. That left him wondering even more about the state of things. Again, Yanhua felt as if he must wade through these treacherous waters himself in order to be the guide for every living creature that fell under his umbrella of fabricated protection; Lilliana was (as of late) undiscovered. The King of the North, silent. His regent and right hand, just as much a ghost as Yanhua’s echoes. If there was time to be bitter about the subject, maybe Yan would be, but in reality he just felt utterly alone.
Only Popinjay and her bright fire spark hope in this waking nightmare, so that’s directly where Yan finds himself traveling. His family in Taiga is together again and the gods help him, that's how it’ll stay. The time passes quickly; before long he’s ascended from the forests and crossed into Nerinian territory, made all the easier in the dark after finding the common road for those horses who travelled by way of walking. Out of Taiga it seems less-dark at least. Without the thick fog and interwoven treetops, Yanhua has a better sense of his surroundings. He can also see the flickering light of the grand fire from where he’s at, and he thinks it’s an impressive thing - what Popinjay has done. Odd, but impressive. That hazy glow of light is a guide he follows eagerly, until he comes across another dim sort of glow in the moorish night.
“Ho there!” Yan called out, half lantern himself as the gold-lit wisps of his mane and tail blew haphazardly in the unseen wind. He tread carefully over the mounds and stepped softly through the divots in the earth, a dark silhouette barely illuminated. Like a roving spirit, he never tripped; instead the long-legged stallion seemed as if he were floating along through the open country, unhurried. “Would you mind if I -” He paused, going still.
An echo came, unexpected and the first of its kind since he’d descended from the mountaintop. In it, he saw the waving memory of a familiar mare he’d met a long time ago; she was crying still, but it could not have been from that day in the redwoods when he’d barely just become a stallion himself. That would’ve been impossible. No - the echo was much more recent, it had to be - she was in a different place this time, though her beauty remained pristine as it’d been the first time they met. Lady, Yan remembered calling her. He remembered it well.
“You…” The horned elder muttered, not unkindly. Step by careful step he began to move toward the other horse again. “You know the dragoness?” Yan asked, barely above a whisper. They were close enough for it now. In the dim light of his forelock, confusion twisted the corners of his eyes and made him hesitant to hear the answer, but he waited all the same. Lady, he remembered calling her. Clarissa had been her name.
He and Amarine had one test to complete, yes… but what about the grand scheme? What good was building a home and legacy if there was no legacy in the end?
Too full of questions and longing for answers, Yanhua headed north toward Nerine. He’d not seen or heard from Leilan or his brother, Nashua, since the eclipse. That left him wondering even more about the state of things. Again, Yanhua felt as if he must wade through these treacherous waters himself in order to be the guide for every living creature that fell under his umbrella of fabricated protection; Lilliana was (as of late) undiscovered. The King of the North, silent. His regent and right hand, just as much a ghost as Yanhua’s echoes. If there was time to be bitter about the subject, maybe Yan would be, but in reality he just felt utterly alone.
Only Popinjay and her bright fire spark hope in this waking nightmare, so that’s directly where Yan finds himself traveling. His family in Taiga is together again and the gods help him, that's how it’ll stay. The time passes quickly; before long he’s ascended from the forests and crossed into Nerinian territory, made all the easier in the dark after finding the common road for those horses who travelled by way of walking. Out of Taiga it seems less-dark at least. Without the thick fog and interwoven treetops, Yanhua has a better sense of his surroundings. He can also see the flickering light of the grand fire from where he’s at, and he thinks it’s an impressive thing - what Popinjay has done. Odd, but impressive. That hazy glow of light is a guide he follows eagerly, until he comes across another dim sort of glow in the moorish night.
“Ho there!” Yan called out, half lantern himself as the gold-lit wisps of his mane and tail blew haphazardly in the unseen wind. He tread carefully over the mounds and stepped softly through the divots in the earth, a dark silhouette barely illuminated. Like a roving spirit, he never tripped; instead the long-legged stallion seemed as if he were floating along through the open country, unhurried. “Would you mind if I -” He paused, going still.
An echo came, unexpected and the first of its kind since he’d descended from the mountaintop. In it, he saw the waving memory of a familiar mare he’d met a long time ago; she was crying still, but it could not have been from that day in the redwoods when he’d barely just become a stallion himself. That would’ve been impossible. No - the echo was much more recent, it had to be - she was in a different place this time, though her beauty remained pristine as it’d been the first time they met. Lady, Yan remembered calling her. He remembered it well.
“You…” The horned elder muttered, not unkindly. Step by careful step he began to move toward the other horse again. “You know the dragoness?” Yan asked, barely above a whisper. They were close enough for it now. In the dim light of his forelock, confusion twisted the corners of his eyes and made him hesitant to hear the answer, but he waited all the same. Lady, he remembered calling her. Clarissa had been her name.
@[chalkydri] we're just gonna pretend this is shortly after Yan and co. have safely returned home lol. Time, what even is it?