"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
09-05-2019, 06:44 PM (This post was last modified: 09-05-2019, 07:21 PM by kildare.)
It had been all fun and games with his older brothers. It always had been.
But on the day that Kildare announced he was leaving, he was met with only Tarian’s stony gaze. His blue eyes had gone frozen for a moment, the heart of a blizzard glowing in his eyes. Kildare had watched, waited, eyeing his eldest brother before he dropped his gaze. Kildare had stared at the grounded, hating himself for being the acquiescent younger sibling.
He would never be bigger than Tarian. (Liam, perhaps, but there was always the chance that his elder twin brothers would be larger than his, gifted with their wings and ability of flight.) Kildare might not have had the sky but he had held the power of his ancestors, the ability to alter breezes and summon gales. He could whisper to the wind and it was always there to answer him, to soothe and incite him. A playful breeze, a demanding gust, a storms fury. He knew her language and he knew how to tame her.
Since coming to Beqanna, he feels naked without his ability. The midnight stallion often takes himself to the island's shores where he can wander at his leisure and he can listen. He still listens to her, can feel her wrap himself in his mane, through his very core and it makes him feel so utterly powerless that he can’t answer her call.
How is he supposed to help Astana? How is he to help anybody if he can’t even help himself?
He has promised a visit to Nerine for the diamond girl. It’s a “wellness checkup” of sorts to make sure that the filly hasn’t ended up in the clutches of some mad and vindictive creature. Perhaps Heartfire isn’t as bad as all that (as Astana would say, she’s “so great”). But the boy can’t understand what a queen would be doing with a yearling who has ventured too far from home.
If anything (and unfortunately), Astana was his responsibility.
Today in winter’s depth, Kildare finds himself at the mouth of the River and edge of the Forest. The air is cold, almost intolerably so. It bites at his nose and burns each inhale he takes, freezing the very core of him. But the air is crisp, clear, almost alive with the season. The old part of him, that empty part where his gift had once been, can the feel the chill of winter so keenly.
Someday. Someday, he will speak this language again. It is a reunion that he finds himself longing for more each day.
The trees are sparse here, emptied and barren in the depth of the season and the lullaby of waves calls from not far away. His mind tries to decide if he should go further in the world and towards the shore. The air is brisker there, something that sharpens his senses and refreshes him. On a day as empty and gray as this one, he needs that. He needs to cut and hone his senses. He needs a moment to become as cutting as the wind.
He turns to go, ready to feel the bite of winter until a sound stops him. An ear swivels back and the young stallion turns his head, inquiring green eyes searching through the tepid colors of white and gray to find the source of the noise.
09-07-2019, 02:31 PM (This post was last modified: 09-07-2019, 02:31 PM by Mary.)
Long May She Reign
She had been a busy Mary, not only the advisor for the Resort, but a similar position for Loess. She had balanced her time with both kingdoms, admittedly spending more time in Loess.
She still can't believe how the tables have turned, the pale mare once a ruler now obeying her very enemy. She still isn't sure what Castile has in store for her, but she reluctantly obeys him.
She finds herself drawn to the forest, the evergreens capped in snow on the winter day. Her pale coat blended in well with the white snow, only her dark mane giving away her positioning.
She wasn't sure exactly what she was out doing, getting fresh air, maybe even finding a recruit. Her hazel eyes scan the area, the winter was usual a rather quiet time for the nomad lands. The fall brought all the lovebirds together, and the winter is when they figure out if they were truly a match or if it was lust.
The dappled mare found herself pregnant, her belly was well rounded at this point. She snorts out of annoyance for the desolate forest, and decides to visit the stream for a drink before heading back.
The air was sharp by the water, but the resort has built her tolerance to the winter air. Her gaze follows the water until it catches another. She was always good at remaining hidden until she wanted to be seen. Today was no different, her hooves crunch the snow loudly as she approaches the young equine.
He was a black stag, his pelt offered no cove from the white snow that covers the earth. He hears her, and his green eyes scan looking for her. A grin tugs at her lips, she removes herself from the foliage allowing herself to be completely seen. Leaving so soon? She asks the stag who was nearly on his way home.
The wind whispers to him, telling him secrets just above a murmur, the words undecipherable against the brisk winter air. No matter how still he stands, how hard his ears strain to catch even a syllable, it remains evasive.
Once the wind would have told him everything. It would have sung at his praises, murmured anything he longed to hear. He could bend and weave it. He could have wielded it like a weapon and he had appreciated it for the gift it was, something that he appreciates even more since he had to give it up in return for entry into Beqanna. Someday, the stallion thinks.
He and the breeze have been together for far too long to be parted now, even for something as sacred and ancient as the old magic that runs beneath Beqanna’s ground.
That is what he is trying to do today. Kildare has been a restless soul since entering these lands. He has gone north and south, west and east in search for answers and knowledge. At three, the young stallion is learning the lands and its leaders. When the searching brings him here, Kildare only longs for the caress of the wind and the freedom it brings. If he could, he’d lose himself in it.
Instead it only pulls at his thick mane, leading the ebony locks in a wild dance. The moment is there, it is so perceptibly close. He can hear the surge of the waves, can feel the power as they crash against the rocky shore that is still hidden behind the few remaining trees. He thinks that if he can reach the beach, he might be able to hear the wind more clearly, that it might be able to tell him things again.
But before he can go, before he overtaken by wind and song, the sound stops him.
His emerald eyes are angry. He had been so sure that the moment was right. They flash accusations as his head turns back and he searches for the source of the sound, the reason that the magic was broken.
But the accusation dies as quickly as it came. His gaze settles on a mare, a lovely mare, rounded in pregnancy. But it does nothing to take away from her beauty – it is the opposite. It only serves to enhance it, to make Kildare see her as some forgotten goddess lost in the winter wood. A grin promises to grow on her lips and what else is Kildare to do? How can one not smile back at such a captivating woman?
”Apparently not,” he says against the winter chill. He moves his body then, angles it so he can approach (and appreciate) her more easily. The young stallion tries not to let his eyes wander (his mother would have skinned him alive for such behavior) but the admiration lingers as he comes to stand casually in front of her. ”And what about you? I hope you’re not lost.”
She nears the stag, stopping only when she is a few paces away. Her maw remains with a grin, hee eyes follow his as it scans her. A boost of confidence in a time where her belly grew, but she doesn't say anything, just makes a mental note.
When he speaks he responds that he wasn't leaving, and a small giggle parts her lips. He grows closer to her, his body angled as he continues to scan her over.
Her eye begins to cock at this point, she knew she was a site to see, but this much interest? She notes his young age and decides not to hold it against him.
He asks if she was heading home, asking if she was lost. Again a laugh escapes her maw, she has lived his lifetime over and over (though she was still young). No, I came to find any stragglers, and then I found you.
Her brow lifts in a grin, her grey body moves beside the young stag. She allows her maw to extend out and touch his spine, slowly she trails down his back. She stops at the end of his spine, and allows her pelt to change from dapple to the same ebony one he wears.
Her hooves remained ruby, but aside from that they looked the same. Her head glances back to the stag are you lost? I don't smell a kingdom on you, I could change that. She smirks, it wouldn't be the first time that she has used her looks to get what she wants.
09-19-2019, 09:53 PM (This post was last modified: 09-19-2019, 09:54 PM by kildare.)
Fates, he thinks. She is bold.
He doesn't know what goddess she claims to be or what has crafted her this way but Kildare admires her all the same. He admires her for the beauty that she is and he admires her for spirit, a recklessness in her that he even he can recognize despite his tender age. She giggles and he grins, the picture of boyish youth.
Oh, if only he were a little older.
She gives him a knowing glance and he knows that she's spied the appreciation in his gaze. The protocol that he has been raised by tells him that he should apologize. He shouldn't have looked at her so openly like that in the first place but he did. And the consequence doesn't reprimand him - if anything, it taunts his grin to spread a little wider. "What a shame," he drawls out, the tone of his words belie exactly what he thinks of that.
And Kildare thinks he has a grip on the game. His reality is abruptly turned upside down as she reaches out to touch him, as her coloring shifts and the young stallion can only turn his dark head towards her. His gaze follows her as she moves down his spine, turning the tables on him very fast. Whatever playful quips and smart retorts he had are quickly forgotten by the explosion of electricity that lights on his skin.
There is a silence after she speaks as Kildare tries to adjust himself from the withdrawal of her touch and he tries to regain some of that casualness he had before. His youth speaks volumes here - shows in the way that he struggles to find that composure. It takes him a painfully self-aware moment but he finds it and that grin threatens again, a mirror of her own. "Hard to be lost when the whole world is open to you."
He hasn't thought about a kingdom yet, about where he would eventually end up. He still had time to make his mind up on those matters. But as Mary invites to reflect on that, he thinks this might be just the time to do so. "Could you?" his says in mock amazement, raising his brow to play along with his words. But then he smiles and inclines his head to the side, inviting his rather alluring companion to walk with him. "Let's get some cover in those trees ahead and you can tell me more."
The winter is a generally barren time for the nomad lands. The fall brings many pregnant mares who all find cover in the winter, protecting there unborn young. But Mary saw it as an opportunity when no one else dared to leave there home.
She hadn't expected to run into anyone, though this stag seemed full of life. Her mind brings her back to Velk, the young stag she had attracted and found herself in continious trouble with. She reminds herself to be more cautious with this one, but still dances with danger.
She asks if he was the one who was lost, and he smartly responds that the whole world is open to him. She grins at his response, she had a similar view though her political upbringing has taught her to respect territory boundaries. True, but have you seen Loess? She asks as she moves to position herself before him once again.
She tactfully decides to offer Loess over the Pampas. A judge of character, and Loess certainly was more fitting.
She notes that her touch from earlier had left his mind jumbled. He was young, and her forward touch was possibly one of his firsts. It didn't surprise her when he grows daring, asking to move to the cover of the trees.
With a smirk she glances at his captivating emerald eyes once more before moving closer to the foliage. She allows her tail to flick him as she passes by, Shouldn't I know your name first? She inquires yelling out without glancing back.
Had his father succeeded in his goal, Kildare might have grown up with an upbringing that reflected more closely with political ties and affiliations. He'd understand a little more what is to owe loyalty to a place rather than a horse. But he had been born in the common lands and his time had been so short in Culloden, that sense of loyalty was never given time to grow. So to Kildare, his loyalty had been to his family. And without them - with no father to steer him, no mother to rein him in, without his imperial grandfather to command him - he is free to do as he pleases.
The freedom he feels burns in his veins. Kildare has grown up always wanting something and never knowing what it was. He only knew that he was unfulfilled, that there was some itch that he needed to scratch.
He's been able to do that in Beqanna. He can wander to his heart's content. Kildare can let the wanderlust completely burn him through and there is no one to tell him the consequences of it. The young stallion has allowed it completely light his blood and he finds the world completely open to him.
The mare positions herself before and Kildare tries to keep tabs on his own emotions. Mary certainly instills boldness in him as she carries it herself. She is confident and brazen, brash in a way that he finds utterly captivating. He's never known a mare to carry herself with such assurance and it intrigues him. She intrigues him.
"No, I have not," he quips back at her. Kildare studies her and tilts his head to the right, his green eyes mischievously flashing for her to tell him more. "Should I?" he dares.
Mary finally moves forward but not before she flicks him with her tail. The boy grins wildly at her, by her audacity. If this is what the women of Loess are like, he thinks, lead the way."Kildare. And what do they call a goddess like yourself around these parts?"
Perhaps having found herself so closely wrapped with the devil himself, she had found ways to manipulate situations to her pleasing. Of course they didn't always work out....but she at least knew how to seduce stags.
When she asks the young ebony stag if he has seen Loess he admits he hadn't, though she could have guessed that. She watches as he quizzically gazes at her, finally questioning if he should have.
Her eyes grow slightly wider, and a grin tugs at her maw ever so slightly. Oh yes! It is the strongest kingdom in all of beqanna! It was true, with ties in nearly all sectors of beqanna, it was nearly an unstoppable kingdom.
I can tell you are a free spirit, and perhaps with time the young boy could be tamed to one home. You should come check it out, you are free to come and go...but you shouldn't waste your potential in the nomad lands. She says with a smile, she always liked equines who put work into there homes...but he was so young and had plenty of time to develop.
As she playfully moves off, flicking her tail at him in a last ditch effort to get him closer to Loess's border. The stranger finally announces a name, and she listens as he continues to compliment her, boosting her already bold ego.
Kildare huh? That's quite the godly name itself, she says with a grin as she turns back to look at him. Oh, and name is Mary, she gives one last glance to him, her head tossing as if to tell him to follow her. And she continues closer to Loess, as close as he would allow them.
10-02-2019, 06:41 PM (This post was last modified: 10-02-2019, 06:43 PM by kildare.)
Mary can manipulate him however she pleases. Kildare finds himself a willing victim for whatever she intends, that wild grin on his face says that much. This a world that is teaching the young stallion he can be himself, whatever his faults and vices are, in Beqanna he can be whatever he damn well chooses. He is not 'Malachi's youngest boy' or 'one of the Legacy brood' here. Beqanna has no idea what being a Legacy even means and Kildare finds that freeing. It allows him to slip free of the shackles that his blood demands of him and if Kildare never measures up to his father's worth, who is here to compare him to his sire?
Here is his chance at freedom.
Mary's eyes widen in a beguiling way and though there is something about the mock innocence behind them that Kildare finds himself doubting, he plays along with her game. "Strongest in what way? Numbers? Armies? Willpower? If I am to give up my freedom, I would know everything about my new home." While its a joke, there is an underlying truth - what does make Loess so great? What makes it any different then the tropical paradise of Ischia, then the sprawling mountains of Hyaline? Whatever argument can be made in Loess's favor, whatever Mary has to say about it, she makes it a tempting one.
One he is too tempted to pass up.
She moves away and Kildare's eyes darken as they rove at her lovely form, admire her curves and the alluring rounding of her hip. She has a willing acolyte in Kildare. He will exalt whatever goddess she is, offer up whatever prayers it is that she requires. It takes him another prolonged moment when she looks back at him but there is a careful shrug of his shoulder as the distraction of her wears off. "My father gave it to me. It was supposed to 'instill filial duty and heritage'," he says quietly, in a voice that tells of one too many lectures where he has heard that exact phrasing.
There is a moment where he wonders what Mary thinks of him if his 'filial duty' has lead him here, with no family and no duty.
But then he grins at her, breaking the moment and never giving her the chance to ask. "Well, hail Mary. I'm glad the winds blew you my way today."
She swore to herself aftee Velk she wouldn't toy with the young boys....but then Nodens came along....and well now Kildare seems interesting enough. Her search for love would have to be put to the side, she was having to much fun with these young bucks.
Mary attempts to reel him into Loess, at least if he was close by her attempt at fun wouldn't be so hard! She talks about her kingdom, and he asks questions. His tone almost mocking of sorts, but she only takes the bait.
She grows closer to him once again, everything, she whispers in response to him. You have to see it to believe it, everyone else fears us. The words flow from her mouth, a stretch from the truth....but everyone should fear Loess.
Though it doesn't take any further persuasian, he in so many words agrees to go with her to Loess. With a grin on her maw she brushes her body against his like a cat would. She prances forward before glancing back to the ebony stag, let's go home then! A grin tugs at her lips as her head directs her body back home.
