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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    ||Take These Broken Wings...|| {Volcan}
    #1
    The Nerine. An endless expanse of dark sand and water.  Standing upon the precipice, Nymf gazed down the cliff-face. The quiet, rhythmic crashing of the waves offered their comfort like a soothing whisper as a warm gust of wind blew back her mess of copper tipped hair. Dead blue eyes studied the distance from the top of the cliff and the stones below. Yes, she believed that it would be enough. If she kept her wings pinned she would meet her end quickly, if not painlessly.
     
    Pain did not deter her. Relief inspired her.
     
    A heavy sob rose up from the barrels of her chest and threatened to strangle her. She closed her eyes against it and, instead of a comforting blackness, she was greeted by the memory of his face. A lone tear escaped past her lashes and rolled down her cheek. She refused to accept that he was gone. For hours she’d expected to see him emerge from around every bend. Even a top the cliff she braced herself for the sound of his familiar hoof-steps. Disappointment filled every empty moment.
     
    Pain raced through her abdomen as a sticky trickle of fluid ran down the length of her back legs. Emptiness filled her womb as her body worked to relieve itself of the reminder that a life had once resided there. Her mind raced to erase all thoughts of his perfect little cream body. The hope that her ‘flutter’ had represented had been stolen away from her with one deliberate blow to her enlarged abdomen.
     
    He could have let me go!
     
    As her valiant protector fell, the aggressors had chased her across the land. They’d threatened her with gnashing teeth and taunting calls. They wished to destroy the life inside of her so that they could plant a new one. Monsters, they were. Pure evil that had stolen everything away from her.
     
    In the valley below the cliff where she stood she imagined the perfect colt she had struggled to deliver. Through her laboring she had hoped beyond reason that he’d survive, that he could be her light in the midst of so much darkness. Yet, as she rose to inspect his fragile pale body, she knew that his soul had already departed to be with his father. For a long while she had laid beside him, searching for any sign that his heart was beating. She counted every rib, every marking of the son that she’d lost.
     
    Now, there was nothing left but a darkness. She opened her eyes and studied the gathering of storm clouds just beyond the horizon. A low roll of thunder traveled across the choppy water and her ears pricked forward to meet it’s promise. A storm was coming. Only then did she notice the brisk wind that ripped through the tall sea-grass. Crabs skittered across the surface of the black sand towards the waters edge, readying themselves against the oncoming torrent. Theirs was a much simpler existence, it seemed. Devoid of heartbreak and trials their world was the ocean, the sand and all that it contained. Perhaps she would join them in her next life. How appropriate that she would be reborn in the place where her life had ended.
    #2
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die


    Restless.

    The air felt different this morning. It felt oppressively heavy, as if it had its own mind, and that mind desired to strangle, suffocate, murder.

    She could feel it in her bones. Something was brewing. The animals could feel it, too. It was silent, and nothing was stirring. Birds did not sing.

    She completed her usual patrols, anyway, completed the training exercises she committed herself to when she realised how woefully underprepared she was back at the Tephran training event... And, of course, as her gut told her, there was something. Beyond the woman standing at the edge of the cliff, standing at the edge and contemplating the bottom, the horizon darkened, and the wind started to whistle in her ears.

    It was coming.

    She fought the urge to immediately seek out shelter, that primal instinct that drove her to self-preservation. The one that drove her on, and on, always onwards. She meandered towards the woman on the cliff. Didn’t get too close to the edge, of course… After all, she’s just a touch unhinged, not wildly suicidal.

    ”Keep standing so close to the edge and you won’t even need to jump, the wind’ll take you.” the husky voice of the smokey woman drifted out across the gathering winds. She didn’t have to shout, yet, but she knew she would soon. She is no stranger to storms; of the desert, of the ocean, of the heart...all the same. All the fucking same. ”And I dunno about you, but if I were gunna throw myself over, well, I’d want it to be on my own terms.”

    ”What happened to you?” she asks, now, finally. She cocks a back-leg, sniffs - as if there’s no rush, no rush at all. As if the horizon wasn’t boiling with rain and electricity and wind, just waiting to smite them off the face of this miserable earth.

    And anyway, she’s far too stubborn to let something like a natural disaster get rid of her. Try harder, Nerine.

    #3
    The wind carried her scent towards her before the other mare made her presence known. She was close, almost too close to offer any real comfort. The bruises that marked Nymf’s body told the tale of the trauma she had faced. She was no worrier, if she had been maybe she could have prevented the tragedy that stole them away from her.

    Lazily she rolled her blue eyes to regard the relaxed woman. She was farther from the cliffs edge, probably a smart decision. Nymf was interested in what was ‘smart’. Another clap of thunder sounded from the distance – closer than before. The storm was moving. She knew that she should seek shelter, but the thought rose bile to sting her throat. Why? What was the point of preserving her life? There was nothing left for her in Beqanna.

    When the stranger spoke Nymf’s skin lit on fire. Her tone was low and the wind caught it making it almost impossible to decipher her words. Yet, Nymf understood all the same. She ruffled the feathers of her wings impatiently as she gazed back towards the rocky landing below. Yes, if she pinned her wings it would be over faster than the blinking of an eye. The wind would act as encouragement towards her purpose, a nod of approval. For a moment she imagined their faces, that of the man she loved and the child that she never had the chance to know. They were waiting for her, she could almost see them smiling from the sand below.

    Then came the question that reeled the winged mare back to reality. What had happened to her? It was hard to tell. There was fear, followed by running and pain. A great pain that shot through her like lightning.

    ”He’s gone,” she rasped then shuddered. The choking sob crept higher, almost free of her control. She wanted to cry – to scream, but she remained silent. Stilled against the weight of her grief.
    #4
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die


    The smokey woman noticed the bruises across her, the trauma so clearly marked in her flesh… The mare before her had not had an easy life (not that she needed to see bruises to know that a mare considering throwing herself off a cliff had not had an easy life). Nobody has an easy life these days. It’s all wars and insecurities and lands falling in on each other and what not.

    he’s gone the stranger says and Volcan scrunches her face up briefly, trying to figure it out. Fortunately she is not only blessed with good looks, but also a functional brain, so it doesn’t take long. ”Dead.” she says, tilting her head. Oh, Volcan knew the dead. She knew how that felt.

    She sniffs, considers her words for a moment. She’s no silver-tongued diplomat (more smoke and fire than smooth stream), but it is what it is. ”They say that you die two deaths. The first, when you physically pass. The second… well, when your name is spoken for the last time.” She snorts with derision. The mare is strangely composed for one considering such desperate matters but… Perhaps it’s freedom from choice. Perhaps she’s not conflicted. Hell, maybe she has already decided that she’s dead.

    But Volcan tries anyway, because nobody has ever taught her how to surrender.

    ”So go on then, go and fucking die. But he’ll die with you. His memory will die with you. Who will remember him as you do, hmm? Who will talk about him like you can?” she sighs and shakes her head.

    ”And die for nothing! What a waste!”

    She’s shouting now, above the screaming wind, flinching from the rain lashing her face. At any moment, Nymf could fall. Volcan needs to find cover. Every inch of her trembles with the desire to run and hide and seek shelter. The instinct to seek shelter is one of the most deeply ingrained instincts in any living thing, and it is screaming, louder than the wind can rattle in her eardrums. She wants to run.

    She takes a step forward instead.
    Because nobody has ever taught her how to give up.

    ”Or you could come with me. Come with me and make something of yourself, something that he’d be proud of. Hell, avenge him if it pleases you!”

    She braces herself against the oncoming storm, trying to get her mass as close to the ground as possible. She can’t wait much longer, neither of them can.

    #5
    Nymf could feel herself being studied by the smoke colored woman. Though her gaze was not unkind she could sense her contempt for her weakness.

    Dead. The strange mare muttered and Nymf’s body grew rigid. Her front hoof slipped forward, ever closer to edge. The end felt closer than ever, a hot breath down the length of her spine. Admitting the truth made her circumstance a reality. Finally, her sob broke free.

    The force of his wracked her entire body, sending shocks of pain through her broken body. The wind carried her cries down the cliffside, whipping her mane around her face. She could feel it’s prodding from behind as it swirled around her legs. A cruel reminder of how easy it could be if only she would surrender. Her son. Her Sebastian. They would welcome her into the afterlife and they could be together, forever.

    ”They say that you die two deaths. The first, when you physically pass. The second… well, when your name is spoken for the last time.” The strange mare’s voice caught Nymf’s interest. The tone of her voice had changed. Almost as though it carried a memory with it. ”So go on then, go and fucking die. But he’ll die with you. His memory will die with you. Who will remember him as you do, hmm? Who will talk about him like you can? And die for nothing! What a waste!”

    As she spoke her voice rose to a shout to reach above the howling. Nymf studied her, lost to her thoughts. She could remembered his eyes, the way he would gaze at her from a far. She could never forget the excitement on his face when she told him that he would be a father. For months they had planned for the arrival of their child, agonizing over names and the perfect place to welcome him into the world. It was just the two them, soon to be the three of them and everything was absolutely perfect. Their son, she’d never had a chance to get to know but the few precious moments she had spent beside him made it easy to imagine what could have been.

    ”Or you could come with me. Come with me and make something of yourself, something that he’d be proud of. Hell, avenge him if it pleases you!” The woman’s offer was tempting. Nymf gazed down once again towards the rock covered sand below. Another gust pushed her closer, only this time she fought against it’s pull and stepped back.

    ”Sebastian,” She whispered into the oncoming storm. Upon the next gust she heard her name entwined within it’s warmth. He wanted her to go on. He wanted her to continue. A new fire ignited within her and she limped towards the strange mare. ”Show me how.
    #6
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die


    show me how says the white woman and Volcan releases a breath she hadn’t even realised she’d been holding. She reaches out to the other woman, bridging the space between them. ”Right. Good.” she says under her breath, but the relief is only temporary as the winds and the rain increase.

    ”Let’s start by getting out of this fucking rain then, huh?” She smiles briefly, her eyes warming.

    Turning back to the mainland, she realises the destruction that the wind has already wrought; trees are toppled and there are animals fleeing for their lives also. She motions to the other to follow her (for surely the stranger does not know where the Nerinean caves lie in wait with their promise of safety and protection) and sets off, as best as she can, against the battering winds. The rain beats down upon them and her flesh is stinging with the force of it all, but she’s burning through with a fire entirely of her own creation.

    Her telepathy reaches around them and creates an umbrella of protection, diverting the rain and wind to either side of them. She can’t hold it for long, but it should be just enough. Might be just enough. She curses under her breath… they should’ve sought shelter far earlier. But it is what it is.

    Breaking into a run now (careful to ensure the mare beside her does not fall behind) she dodges fallen trees and branches, throwing things out of the way that she cannot maneuver around… creating a path through the chaos and destruction.

    ”Keep up!” she shouts, the sweat and rain dripping off her body, her brow furrowed with the concentration and effort. She can see the caves now, just a short distance away. Just a run and they’ll be in, and they’ll be safe.

    #7

    ”Right. Good. The smoke colored woman almost sounded surprised by Nymf’s surrender. Her words were almost impossible to hear, carried too quickly away by the intensifying wind. The storm was almost upon them and Nymf wondered how long she had stood at that cliffs edge. Bullets of rain fell from above and she only just noticed that her mane, wings and tail were completely soaked through.
     
    ”Let’s start by getting out of this fucking rain then, huh?”  The stranger’s smile was meant to be comforting, but Nymf could see past it. She was worried. The oncoming hurricane threatened them from all sides and her mind flashed briefly to the limp son she’d left buried in nothing but sea grass. It felt wrong to leave him there but she knew that there was no time to change that now.
     
    Nymf followed dutifully behind her new companion as she turned inland. They would be safer there, Nymf knew, though she was ignorant to the sea and the storms it brought to the land.
     
    Every step was agony. Pulses of pain shot through her body as she fought against the battering wind. She clamped her wings tightly against her sides and ducked her head, praying with every step that they would soon come to their destination. As they walked an odd umbrella formed above them, providing a shield from the rain. Nymf gazed up, curious, and watched in awe as droplets of water rolled off the sides of the invisible dome. Wonderstruck, she studied the woman who had rescued her from the cliff’s edge. It seemed that there was more to her than the coarse manner in which she had lured Nymf away from her demise.
     
    Breaking into a run ahead of her, Nymf groaned as she forced her limbs to obey. Her joints and muscles cried out in pain and more afterbirth fell from her with every jarring step.
     
    ”Keep up!” She heard the mare call from her position up front. Nymf clenched her jaw and closed her eyes, praying that her body would not betray her weakness.
     
    She almost cried out in relief when they came to the mouth of a cave and flew inside of it. Finally sheltered from the storm Nymf screeched to a half, her body trembled from the effort of her exertion. She unfurled her wings and flapped them several time, sending droplets of water against the cave walls. From drooped eyelids she watched the strange mare and a question was soon on her lips as she realized that she didn’t even know the horse’s name.
     
    ”Who are you?” The words fell from her velveteen lips, her voice raspy and breathless. Why did you stop me?

    Nymf
    Oh no, Here we go again
    #8
    volcan
    Burn slow, burning up the back wall
    Long roads, where the city meets the sky
    Most days, most days stay the sole same
    Please stay, for this fear will not die


    Strange how something so close can simultaneously be just there and so far away at the same time, but she makes it, they make it. Volcan almost falls into the cave, staggering with the exertion of trying to keep a hundred thousand raindrops under her control at once. The blessed relief of finally being able to let go of it all is only slightly marred by her pegasus friend shaking her wings, splattering her with cool water. They made it, and she can’t help but smile.

    who are you?

    Volcan looks up from the ground, head tilted. Good question, she thinks, but she says; ”Volcan.” It’s odd to think that once upon a time she had been so sure of who she was, of what and where she came from. She isn’t so sure who she is anymore, and from the way the pegasus looks at her, it seems nobody else is either. She’s seen it in them all, the way they look at her as if she is unpredictable and wild and hateful - the fire that’ll eat them up, if they give it the chance. Well, better they think of her as fierce and dangerous than weak, at least.

    Volcan realises she has been, unintentionally, staring at the winged mare for quite some time. She lets a long breath (again not even realising she had been holding it). She’s not a diplomat, she has never been a diplomat...and maybe with some more of Hestia’s expert training, she might eventually become something resembling conventionally friendly… but not just yet.

    ”This week we rest.” she says. ”I will stay close and make sure you are well.” make sure you’re not tempted to hurl yourself off another cliff is implied but not said. Her wounds, upon closer examination, are more extensive than Volcan had first thought - there is blood on her legs, signs that even the maiden mare can recognise as the mark of childbirth. Her heart pinches at the thought of what this woman must’ve gone through… The bruises across her entire body, the cuts, the scrapes, the grazes… despite the wings, she looks small. Vulnerable. Volcan is suddenly very furious indeed. Fuck the people that did this to her. Fuck them to hell.

    Volcan looks back up, makes eye contact once again.
    ”And then after that, we train.

    Nobody will hurt you or yours ever again.”

    or i’ll rip them limb from limb myself. it's implied, not said.

    ”I forgot to ask your name.” and like that, the intensity of the moment is past, and the smokey mare’s anger subsides. She hears the howling of the wind again, almost deafening. Trees creak and groan and crack. She looks now, to the murky yellow-grey of the storm outside. ”Please forgive my rudeness. How did you come to be in Nerine?”

    She does not hold much hope that Nymf will understand her, after all, Volcan has trouble with it herself most days. But the fire that destroys...well, it can also provide comfort on long, dark, cold nights. And she is trying. She is really, truly trying.

    #9

    The mare spoke her name easily enough, though Nymf sensed a hesitation behind her voice. Her pale blue eyes peered out through her messy wet forelock and she studied her newfound companion. She wasn’t particularly unique to look at, her only defining feature was the ‘v’ shape that framed her forehead. There was a distance within her eyes, a faraway look that instantly set her on edge. It was as if she was searching for something in the void between them. Answers perhaps.
     
    The emptiness inside of her widened.
     
    Volcan tore her gaze away and Nymf allowed her body to relax. The soreness in her limbs was numbed by the chill of the cave, though the pain of childbirth still lingered.
     
    ”This week we rest,” she huffed, almost as if she were a soldier preparing a new recruit. “I will stay close and make sure you are well.”
     
    Nymf wasn’t sure how she felt about the declaration. Volcan seemed strange, odd and rough. She had a direct and calloused way of speaking, direct. The idea of having as a constant companion didn’t exactly upset Nymf. She seemed strong enough, and capable.
     
    Volcan was staring again, this time at her blood stained hind legs and tail. Nervous, she pivoted her back end away and placed her wings strategically against her sides. Although wet and droopy, they provided enough coverage to add to her comfort and privacy.
     
    Unfazed, Volcan continued, “And then after that, we train.” Her next words were angier, determined – almost protective. ”Nobody will hurt you or yours ever again.”
     
    Nymf was startled by the declaration. She barely knew the lone mare and yet she was swearing to protect and guard her. Again, the face of her passed son flashed in her mind and she found herself wondering if he’d had her blue eyes or his father’s deep brown. The thought filled her heart with grief once more and she fought against it violently. She had to be strong if she were to defend his life and that of her beloved Sebastian.
     
    ”I forgot to ask your name.” The inquiry pulled her out of her thoughts and she was grateful for the distraction. ”Please forgive my rudeness. How did you come to be in Nerine?”
     
    ”Nymf,” She breathed. She was afraid to speak, afraid that he voice might crack and reveal her true depth of emotion. Even so, her voice carried through the belly of the cave and bounced around them. For a while she listened to it as it disappeared farther and farther into the deep black depths of the cavern.
     
    Outside, the storm shook the earth with the sound of a thousand rain drops plummeting from the heavens. It was easy to ignore the howling wind and low claps of thunder – but impossible to forget the panicked journey that had brought her to the farthest point of Beqanna. Before today, she’d never even seen the ocean.
     
    Sebastian had always promised that one day, after their foal was born, they would make the journey and see it together. Now, that would never be.
     
    She decided that the best way to explain to Volcan was to start at the beginning. ”We were grazing,” her voice cracked and she paused to compose herself before she continued. ”They came from the west, vicious and taunting. They challenged Seb for the right to me and he – he fought. They were too much for him, so I ran.” Nymf was ashamed. She should have died beside her beloved. She couldn’t bring herself to say the rest, about the stallion who had pursued her, bit at her side and tore her flesh and ended the life of her unborn son. The pain of that loss was still too fresh – the image of his frail, helpless body still too crisp. ”My running brought me here, to Nerine.”  

    Nymf
    Oh no, Here we go again




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