love comes slow and it goes so fast; nayl

[magnus]

He, too, found it comforting to find companions in other immortal souls. Magnus already knew what it was like to wake up decades later and find that every familiar face was long gone—to find that everyone he’d loved and held dear had either passed away or blown away like dust on the wind. So it was soothing to know that there were those like him, those that would endure, watch the world spin and remain. It was soothing to know that in decades time, he could hunt out Nayl and share a moment just like this.

Laughter rung from his mouth at her jest and he rolled his shoulders. “It’s hard to deny that, Nayl,” his scarred mouth curved warmly. Beauty certainly had not eluded her, and he would not have been surprised to learn of the suitors who fought for her attention, who ached to break that ice shield she erected around herself. She cut an intimidating figure, but it would be impossible to not notice the allure that she held.

At her gentle prompting, his grin turned devilish. “A lady never reveals her age,” he made a small tsk noise, tongue clicking against his teeth. “I have seen enough to know that 20 is still young.” It was not only that it had been decades, more than a century, since his birth; it was too difficult to quantify his life. It was too difficult when it was so fragmented, years spent living beneath the ocean, and then in the cosmos, and then back at Beqanna to have immortality injected into his veins, a saving grace.

Her reassurance is kind, but ultimately, he lets it roll off of him. He had stories that would make her skin crawl, stories that would tarnish her understanding of him (there was a darkness beneath his flesh, a bubbling temper, a thirst for war, an intimate knowledge of bloodshed). But, regardless, he had no interest in diving into such stories now—not when the conversation was so light and so easy.

“I have exceptional taste, I will give you that.” Another roll of his shoulders. “And for all my mistakes, they have led me here and it is difficult to complain about such a pleasant day.” A twinkle in his eye as he considered her. 
“Now, Nayl, I do believe I have earned myself a story or two from you.”

out of the blue out into the loneliest place that you'll ever know
I carried the world just as far as I could but the damage had taken its toll

[Nayl]

She spun the stars on her fingernails She, too, finds reassurance in knowing that he will endure time as well, and that they could stand together and watch the world spin while they remain forever young, forever strong. Simultaneously, however, she realizes that even immortality won’t save them all the time. There are still ways that they can die and that their souls can fall into an abyss, screaming with futile effort to be saved. She knows that there are more horses than have seen decades, perhaps centuries, but are no longer among them. They left on their own, retracting within themselves and disappearing from the world. Nayl can’t help but wonder what will happen to them – to her and Magnus – or if they will truly be walking across Beqanna even centuries from now, like eternal guardians of the land. At the sound of his humorous tsk, Nayl smiles and tosses her head so that her forelock falls messily to the side of her eyes, framing her pretty face. A smile touches her lips and a light brightens her gaze. ”I’m terrible at being a lady,” there were so many others that encompassed the term, but she avoided it like a plague. She had never been a graceful child with the mannerisms of a princess. It was never her nature to be so eloquent. But she laughs – a short-lived but lively sound – and she playfully tampers with his humor, feeling the ice melt from her self-constructed shield. His company allows her to briefly forget the stressors surrounding her, to simply enjoy these moments as the sun hangs high overhead. Its reflection on the water’s surface is peaceful to watch as it glitters and rolls. She never thought she would see an ocean, or even appreciate it, but it has enraptured her with time much like the volcano has begun to steal Magnus’ heart. Nerine has been a place of new beginnings for her, a refreshing start after a long, boring hiatus. These sandy shores awakened something deep inside her that she never knew existed, but she is ever grateful. It will never be enough to erase the memories from the Jungle, but her life thrives now more than it ever had. And so she weakly smiles when he suggests that he has earned stories from her. Nayl considers it with a placid nod, her eyes drifting from the restless waves to Magnus. A curious hum rises through her and she accepts the offer. ”What would you like to know? I doubt I’m as exciting as you are.” Nayl covet and myrina's creation

[magnus]

magnus

howling ghosts, they reappear
in mountains that are stacked with fear

“Oh, I somehow doubt that you are boring, Nayl, but who knows? Perhaps you could surprise me.” His voice is rich and deep, striped with good humor as he considers her. She may not have lived the lifetimes that he has, she may not have experienced death, but he knew someone who had good stories when he saw them. So he purses his lips and thinks, turning his head out toward the ocean that washes up on the shore, thinking as the waves come crashing down, their repetitive motion somehow soothing.

Some of his worst memories had been on the beach, the saltwater a familiar bite in his mouth. It was difficult to look out into the belly of the ocean and not think of it as a graveyard, to not feel a morbid call back to it, but he was learning to appreciate it. He often wandered out into the waves of Tephra now, letting the tide rise up around him and lick salty tendrils up over his back. He would overcome this fear.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he glances back at Nayl and considers her, a studious ferocity in his gold-flecked eyes before he shrugs. “Tell me of your happiest memory. Something that always brings a smile to your face.” They have talked about enough of the serious and the depressed; they deserved to keep the lightheartedness of the conversation, they deserved to have a brief moment of joy in their lives.

So he waits patiently, ink-dipped ear flicking forward amongst the tangles and mess of his forelock. He can only imagine the stories that warm her heart and the things that bring laughter to her eyes. If he can extend this moment in the sun, keep her shield down, then he will gladly do whatever it takes.

but you're a king and I'm a lionheart