"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
I've heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord but you don't really care for music do you?
It was all starting to come together for them. Like puzzle pieces eventually found their way to the right spot, so was the Gates and her subjects. Not only had they survived the last few years, but it seemed as if they were on track to thrive. New faces and new ideas, new magic and even playing fields. Beqanna had never been more alive, for not only in the Gates but everywhere it seemed. That was cause for celebration. For every wanderer who made their way to Beqanna came a chance to invite them to serve the Gates. For every one who entered the Gates, they grew in strength. True, they may not have been a mighty bunch in terms of army and training, but they all had their worth. Each member here was valued equally.
The gray king makes his way to the center of their kingdom, to the Mother Tree and her pool. At first it was disheartening when the Tree did not wave back at him, but it time he’s grown used to her stillness. Besides, they now had the beautiful waters, and near them the first promise of blooms and buds, despite them coming to the end of the autumn season. He admires them for but a moment, gifting them a smile before he places his nose into the air and calls loudly. His voice echoes off of the trees and the hills, reverberating through the trees who seem to enjoy their kings voice. It doesn’t take long before they start to appear; his Gates brothers and his Gates sisters, for he would never presume to call them subjects. He is no better than any of them, despite the crown that lay on his head. “Thank you for coming! To all of our old faces, hello. To the new faces, welcome!” he says kindly, his eyes sweeping over all of their faces in turn. “First off, Fiasko and I would like to congratulate Jason and Wichita for all their hard work recruiting and mingling. For a job well done, we think both of them deserve a promotion.” he says, nodding his head. “Secondly, kingdom visits. I think its high time we make some decisions regarding where we stand with everyone else. We’ve been quiet far too long; I feel as if we should put our faces out there, let the other kingdoms know that we haven’t died and shriveled on the branch. If anyone would like to volunteer, then please say so. For my part I’ll take the Chamber and the Deserts. Company is more than welcome.” Though their relationship with the Chamber made him somewhat uneasy, he couldn’t deny that they weren’t a good ally. They were powerful and strong, with a matching queen at their helm. “In closing, I’d just like to encourage everyone to keep up the good work! Things seem to be changing in Beqanna, and hopefully for the good. I’ve seen more and more new horses in the Field, all looking for a home. The Meadow is also a good resource; you never know who you may run into there and what they might have to say.” and with that he finished, waiting for questions, comments, and concerns, should any of those things arise.
07-23-2015, 05:12 AM (This post was last modified: 07-23-2015, 05:15 AM by Reuen.)
Is it just me,
Or do you wonder if we're put here just to see,
Dreams were dark, tainted. Shadowy figures wove their hands around me, tried to keep me there, lost within the empty space of my mind. They whispered terrible things. Lied, cheated me into staying there, wide-eyed and silent. They had sewn my mouth with stitches, took my tongue from me, my eyes. I could not talk, I could not see, but I could hear their whispering. Darkness, darkness with the thump, thump of my heart. The told me things, things that made no sense, things that froze me to my core.
It was Mast's call that had them falling to the ground. their words fading but to a whisper in my ears. When I awoke, sweat patched my chocolate skin. Beads trickled down my face, my neck and behind the tender flesh of my loins. I lay there in the bushes, stuck on brambles and thorns. For a moment I gathered myself. Listened and found where Mast was. My eyes were shadows, and everything I saw blurred. It took me a while to get up and wearily make my way over, but I did. Sliding with every step, my scarred frame, sweaty yet healing now more and more each day. The raised fleshy ridges were not as scarlet in colour, peachy now and were showing greater signs of skin regrowth. Oh, but I'd be scarred as the trees with their nodes and riddles in their bark. As much as a mystery as the way the wind blows through the trees, telling them secrets that no one understands.
I halt just before Mast, watching the King with a brighter eye than normal. I take his words in, ingesting, digesting. The roll around my empty skull. It seems foreign, indechiperable but I gradually make it out. Childlike, I turn my head, looking at each. Wichita. Tioga. I smile at the young girl, and turn my gaze to her mother. I owed her something, something that I would never know how to repay. Perhaps one day, one day I would. Fiasko, the painted queen. Jason next, I nod to them each, my nose bobbing in further, tossing up and day, side to side. I still feel as though my lips are stitched tight. My lungs wanting to call out, to cry with the agony that longs to fall from my mute tongue. But I open my mouth, and nothing comes. My salmon tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and my teeth grind nonchalantly.
'Home.' the eerie sound slips from my lips. Strange as the mysterious cry of the wolves at night, simple as the flutter of roses in bloom, and as gentle as the kiss of a butterfly wing. 'Home.' Because the Gates are home, and safe and I feel as though nothing can hurt me here. Even though the shadows past my vision, enter my mind and whisper dark things to me. I will always be safe here. 'I owe the Gates. Owe the Gates.' I pause, 'Gates are Safe, safe, safe.'
Little do they all know the knots in my tail, my mane. The fresh wounds across my flanks. They all had a purpose, a nightmare that seemed to real, I feel the swell inside of me. My hollow eyes reflect the nightmare of nights past. Iron. Metallic and strong. Blood, as tangy as the steel across my skin. The pain. Oh, the pain, it had been like before, but sharp, intrusive. I lower my head, nose burying into the grass underfoot.
How much heartache we can take,
Without hanging from the tallest tree? - resident of the gates -
07-23-2015, 09:13 PM (This post was last modified: 07-24-2015, 10:48 PM by Wichita.)
Wichita was, yet again, pregnant. In taking the initiative to learn the lands better, she had a chance meeting with a stallion named Craggle. Lovely shades of bubblergum and roan. He had been charming, sweet even, and it was not so bad as the last time. Yet, as sometimes things go, that affection had not lasted. She was again alone raising her child, perhaps she always would be.
The little silver black mare was begining to regain her original coloring, though still faint tints colored her mane. That of the palest lavender and robins egg blue, her eyes however had changed still. Gold Egyptian cat eye markings surrounded each one, her milk chocolate eyes popping. It was quite the odd decoration for such a southern belle, a contradiction even.
She heard Mast's call, like they all would, the ashen King would hold court today. Wichita lifted her maw, she had been nibbling at the drying grasses, autumn almost at a close. Without further hesitation she set off towards the Mother tree, making a short trip and arriving shortly thereafter. Tioga would not be short behind, the growing girl craved independence, though she knew the importance of gatherings.
Reuen had beaten her here, she always had a warm smile for that girl, a special place in her heart as well. "Reuen, how are ya sugar?" she asked her friend, a note of concern having noticed new wounds. "Mast."she nodded, dipping her crown respectfully.
After all was said and done, she found herself feeling pleased, and a bit self-conscious A promotion, she couldn't believe it, a broad smile pulling at her cheeks. " Thank yall so much."she said bashfully, she found herself uncomfortable in the limelight. "I can go to the Amazons, and the Dale. Company would be nice though."she looked hopefully at the others after that last bit.
07-24-2015, 08:42 PM (This post was last modified: 07-26-2015, 02:40 PM by R A P S C A L L I O N.
Edit Reason: fixing html
)
I GOT A HUNGER AND I CAN'T SEEM TO GET FULL
Rapscallion has no feelings but he imagines that if he did, he would be mourning Mountain's death; the only person he could somewhat consider a friend. The truth is, Rapscallion had just corrupted him like all the others his path crossed.
It would be a burden to carry if he had a soul.
The buckskin was for the most part a quiet man, he spoke when necessary and only got a little excited at the thought of power or murder. He easily overthrew the Tundra King but he himself grew bored, a soured kingdom was not one that kept his attention long. He heard of Mountain's murder, he was not ready to avenge his death yet but he was ready to move forward. He had overheard a mare speaking in the field about the Gates, how it was a fresh start - a place of solace. He didn't seek solace but perhaps a new start was in store, he just loved how chipper she was and how much he would enjoy getting her alone and pushing her buttons.
He is quite good and slithering through the shadows, it's a short trek north from the meadow and he's here; there are no pearly gates, no cherubs flying with rosy jowls, just another place with more people. It appears as though he has stumbled upon a meeting of sorts. A kingdom meeting, he notices a young girl who seems a little impaired by her repetition and lacking motor skills, he speaks not though. Next, a pregnant mare that he can tell this is not her first - remember her for later he tells himself with a haughty snicker. "Rapscallion, I'll accompany the one with child to the Amazons and Dale," he says dryly, his dark forelock falling to the side and revealing his menacing green eyes, "If you're accepting applications that is."
He has no ill intentions gray king, not yet anyhow.
She is close to the Mother Tree when Mast’s voice rings out across the kingdom. It’s not a surprise - they had discussed calling a meeting - and so she hurries to join him. She stands quietly at his side as he speaks, announcing the new promotions and requesting volunteers for kingdom visits. She smiles at each member as they arrive - they’ve worked hard recently and, thanks to them life has begun to slowly return to the Gates. It’s something she’d worried she’d never see when first took the throne.
She is even more pleased when a buckskin stallion that she’s never seen before joins them, and volunteers to go to the Amazons and the Dale with Wichita. His tone however makes her slightly uneasy, but she will give him the benefit of the doubt for now.
When those gathered have finished speaking, she adds her own voice to the conversation. "As some of you might be aware, there has been a change throughout all of Beqanna. The delineations between kingdoms has been removed. We are no longer a non-mythical kingdom.” She hopes that this will help to bring more activity to the Gates - no longer will traited horses avoid them for fear of losing their abilities. "As such, the spirits have seen fit to allow us to give out some gifts. To the leader of our diplomats, we can give the power of empathy, and their second in command, we can give the power of invisibility. To the leader of our army, we can give horns. And we can also give out two pairs of wings, so that we can start an airforce.” She glances at each member in turn, searching for any interest on their faces. "Mast and I will be on the lookout for anyone interested in helping to get our airforce started … and to lead our different castes.”
I follow my mother reluctantly, as if to prove some point in my aging mind. I am growing, becoming less of a child, less reliant on her and her coddling. Do not get me wrong, I love my mother dearly, but I don’t wish to hide in her shadow. She is too busy hiding in it herself for there to be any room for me. I walk without motivation, my dark coat had begun to grow out, leaving me with a rough appearance I did not dislike. What I hadn’t come to terms with more was the changing of its color, not texture. Hairs of gray ran down my face now, from up top between my ears, all the way down my muzzle. Stray strands of the ash had flecked down my neck as well, I was changing, mother said it was normal. I would ‘gray’ and eventually become white, that sort of thing not uncommon.
I’ve noticed mother is again with foal, returning from her explorations with a new sibling for me. I am curious as to what it will be, a brother? A sister? I know there is still some time that I will have to wait to find that out. I do hope it’s a girl, a softer, warmer thing than I am. It still pains me when mom won’t meet my gaze, the copper color of my eyes an unwelcome sight. My breath had sucked into my chest when I had been told, my tears goading the truth from my dam. I had been at unrest with no father, felt spurned that the twins should have such a prominent figure, while I had none. ‘Where is my daddy?’ I had asked her one day before bursting into sobs, having learned that was what Jason was to my friends. My sire was called ‘Khaos’ a brute made of iron, the sheen that shone through my own orbs. He had forced himself on her, which only pained me more, the wind knocked out of me at the words. I did not speak to her for a good month, avoiding her presence except to nurse.
I arrive at the meeting several minutes after mother, even after a buckskin male that I do not know. The get together mostly boring to me, though I am happy for mother. She is advancing in her chosen skill, much to my own surprise, our King and Queen seem pleased with her efforts. She did try to be truthful, but I found her meek nature frustrating. She was always worried about the smallest of things, things I found irrelevant. Staying out after dark, wandering too far outside the borders without an escort, mostly any sense of real adventure was mother’s idea of danger.
I loved to stay out after dark, to watch another world come alive. I’d become an excellent hider, my eyes were gaining clarity that my ears lacked. We hadn’t known the cause yet, for the frequent ringing in my ears. I was told perhaps a head cold, I felt well though otherwise. I was told it would pass, it didn’t. My complaints did though, I didn’t want them to worry, didn’t need to be another broken thing for them to fix. There were two things that did light my interest, one was the army was open for our Kingdom. We were seriously lacking in that field, which left as vulnerable and weak to others. I had a mind to change that then, if the world was as big and scary as mother made it out to be, then why shouldn’t I try to make it less so?
”I want to join the war caste.” the words fly from my mouth as I step through the crowd to speak them. Whipping my dial at Mother’s protests, too young… little girl...please… Catching only fragments of her speech as I lace my ears, and walk away from them all.
