"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
She climbs the mountain, and thinks of Ea. There’s an admiration for the older mare and it inspires Beyza. She was seeking a new chapter for herself, a new story, and while that did not require a crown - this certainly counted as something new. She could protect the Dale, and any who might want to settle there. For now Beqanna was still quiet, as though it were still trying to decide whether to surge into the world it had once been.
Would these kingdoms as they are now ever see war? Or had some sort of equilibrium been reached where the generations no longer craved that?
Beyza had once craved destruction for the sake of purifying, once believed that only the strong should survive. But no more.
So she climbs the mountain and she sees the crown waiting for her. Pebbles from the lake form the base for twisting twig-branches that form a jagged line with their tips reminiscent of the line of the mountains. A faint golden glow radiates from those tips, like the sun rising behind the peaks just before it is visible.
A new start, a new chapter, and Beyza barely feels the weight at all as it settles upon her head.
Dale crown: base formed by lake pebbles, twigs wrap their roots around them and their tips branch out to form the jagged shapes of the mountains. The tips of the twigs also glow a soft gold (like sunlight)
