04-20-2018, 06:30 AM
Belgaer
A new world was dawning.
The sunrise on the morning of their departure appeared to them cloaked in a thick blanket of clouds. Autumn was upon them, with the changing of the season, rains spilled almost daily now. A chill replaced the warm hug of summer, reminding them all of the trials of winter. Trials seemed to come in droves, of late. Belgaer can’t help but feel a heaviness looming over them as an unrest lingered thickly within the young stallion’s mind. Following his father, they’d left the island at the first sight of dawn to make their way up the coastline towards Nerine. Diplomacy did not sleep, it would seem, and, even though the black queen had been among them at the time of the dethroning, she’d quickly left to rejoin her people. It was their duty to go to her to discuss the terms of their alliance.
Flying beside him, Brennen and Belgaer were accompanied by Trekori. He was, thankfully, a winged fellow whose glowing horn helped them see through the lingering darkness of morning. He’d been one of the first to speak on his father’s behalf.
Ahead of them, Brennen led them deeper into Nerine. The stallion’s previous hesitation to leave did not show upon the confidence of his movements. With so many things remaining unclear, and the recent unrest in both Loess and Sylva – Belgaer tried to push the darkness out of his thoughts. Beqanna was changing again and he tried to remind himself that this would not be the final exchanging of power he would witness.
The overthrow of Krone had cost Ischia her most loyal subjects, leaving their numbers a mere few compared to what they had been before. Brennen had to feel the sting of that betrayal.
Belgaer had to admire his father. For all his losses the stallion did not allow himself to linger in that place of rejection. He pushed forward, determined to do what was right by the people that had called out his name.
Finally over the shore of Nerine, he followed his bay father’s lead as he landed softly in the sand. Beside him, the sea breeze caught his mane and tossed the bronze and chestnut strands in the air. There was an urgency among them – they were all eager to return home.
Gently, Brennen’s voice called out a greeting and Belgaer followed his gaze towards the blackened queen as she approached. She’d known that they would come. Although, this time, she was no alone. The leathery black child at her heels appeared more snake than horse as his eyeless gaze swept past them. For a moment, Belgaer was repulsed at the sight of the prong tailed beast – his senses instantly on alert. There was an evil that clung to the young colt, even as he stood silently beside his queenly mother.
Forcing himself to look away, Belgaer focused his attention upon the two leaders as they opened the conversation between them. Words flow, and voices fill the quiet of the morning. Trekori wastes no time in ensuring that his is not forgotten. There was a new world to build and it would be better if they stood together.
He observed as suggestions were traded and Hestia listened. Both kingdoms harbored great strength behind their borders and, together, they could stand nearly impenetrable.
Hestia posed a question best answered by his father. Belgaer craned his neck to assess his father’s reaction. The brotherhood had, for a long time, been reserved to those born male – even though there were others who wished to infiltrate that tradition. His own sister was among those wishing to find a place among them.
“I think my father will agree that it is time for archaic traditions to be set aside,” Belgaer’s offering was feeble, he knew, but it was clear what the mare wanted. Equality. “Progress must be made, and we will not achieve that by moving backwards. Already, Ischia has many talented female warriors. My little sister, could put even my own skills to shame. From the time we are able, my father devotes hours to our training – regardless of sex – so that we know how to defend ourselves, and our home, should the time ever come where it is needed.”
Many fond memories lie beneath the surface of his words, and he hoped the truth of what he shared would put Hestia at ease. It would be up to his father, however, to prove that his son's confidence justified.
The sunrise on the morning of their departure appeared to them cloaked in a thick blanket of clouds. Autumn was upon them, with the changing of the season, rains spilled almost daily now. A chill replaced the warm hug of summer, reminding them all of the trials of winter. Trials seemed to come in droves, of late. Belgaer can’t help but feel a heaviness looming over them as an unrest lingered thickly within the young stallion’s mind. Following his father, they’d left the island at the first sight of dawn to make their way up the coastline towards Nerine. Diplomacy did not sleep, it would seem, and, even though the black queen had been among them at the time of the dethroning, she’d quickly left to rejoin her people. It was their duty to go to her to discuss the terms of their alliance.
Flying beside him, Brennen and Belgaer were accompanied by Trekori. He was, thankfully, a winged fellow whose glowing horn helped them see through the lingering darkness of morning. He’d been one of the first to speak on his father’s behalf.
Ahead of them, Brennen led them deeper into Nerine. The stallion’s previous hesitation to leave did not show upon the confidence of his movements. With so many things remaining unclear, and the recent unrest in both Loess and Sylva – Belgaer tried to push the darkness out of his thoughts. Beqanna was changing again and he tried to remind himself that this would not be the final exchanging of power he would witness.
The overthrow of Krone had cost Ischia her most loyal subjects, leaving their numbers a mere few compared to what they had been before. Brennen had to feel the sting of that betrayal.
Belgaer had to admire his father. For all his losses the stallion did not allow himself to linger in that place of rejection. He pushed forward, determined to do what was right by the people that had called out his name.
Finally over the shore of Nerine, he followed his bay father’s lead as he landed softly in the sand. Beside him, the sea breeze caught his mane and tossed the bronze and chestnut strands in the air. There was an urgency among them – they were all eager to return home.
Gently, Brennen’s voice called out a greeting and Belgaer followed his gaze towards the blackened queen as she approached. She’d known that they would come. Although, this time, she was no alone. The leathery black child at her heels appeared more snake than horse as his eyeless gaze swept past them. For a moment, Belgaer was repulsed at the sight of the prong tailed beast – his senses instantly on alert. There was an evil that clung to the young colt, even as he stood silently beside his queenly mother.
Forcing himself to look away, Belgaer focused his attention upon the two leaders as they opened the conversation between them. Words flow, and voices fill the quiet of the morning. Trekori wastes no time in ensuring that his is not forgotten. There was a new world to build and it would be better if they stood together.
He observed as suggestions were traded and Hestia listened. Both kingdoms harbored great strength behind their borders and, together, they could stand nearly impenetrable.
Hestia posed a question best answered by his father. Belgaer craned his neck to assess his father’s reaction. The brotherhood had, for a long time, been reserved to those born male – even though there were others who wished to infiltrate that tradition. His own sister was among those wishing to find a place among them.
“I think my father will agree that it is time for archaic traditions to be set aside,” Belgaer’s offering was feeble, he knew, but it was clear what the mare wanted. Equality. “Progress must be made, and we will not achieve that by moving backwards. Already, Ischia has many talented female warriors. My little sister, could put even my own skills to shame. From the time we are able, my father devotes hours to our training – regardless of sex – so that we know how to defend ourselves, and our home, should the time ever come where it is needed.”
Many fond memories lie beneath the surface of his words, and he hoped the truth of what he shared would put Hestia at ease. It would be up to his father, however, to prove that his son's confidence justified.
The Prodigal Son
@[Hestia] @[Brennen] @[Trekori] I reposted to fix the errors in my original reply.