"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
08-13-2015, 11:23 PM (This post was last modified: 08-14-2015, 09:48 AM by Neso.)
Moonlight flicked across the mare's back as she passed underneath the trees that danced in the wind. A strange mix of caution and excitement flickered in her earthy eyes as she made her way to the side of the pond. She halted at the water's edge as she stood tall, listening for any noises that might signal an end to her peaceful night. After a few heartbeats of silence except for the lapping waves of the pond and the rustling of the trees she stretched her neck down and took a drink from the pond, sending ripples through her dark reflection. The water chilled her insides, sending a shiver down her spine. She lifted her head after a few heartbeats and started to wander, her eyes drifting to the starry sky often. The wind tugged her mane and tail playfully as she stood there. She could see others far away, only visible because of their silhouettes. They were close enough to feel the comfort of others but far enough away so that Neso felt as though she were alone in this starry field. Bad memories tugged at her mind as if they were small bugs eating at her mind but she quickly pushed them away, reminding herself that she came here to find a home, not to remember one. She hated the idea of putting herself back into a situation where others would reply on her like before but at this point, she honestly had no other options. It was either this or live alone and most-likely die. Of course she could survive for a while but what will happen when she become old? When she can no longer fight and run? Will she simply just vanish from existence without a thought from anyone? To be forgotten like so many have already have? The thought constantly plagued her conscience and dreams. If she didn't do this, it would be as if she had never lived. Besides, she needed a chance to prove that she was capable of something other than letting others down. Memories flashed in her mind causing her to quietly promise to those of her past,
Yael doesn’t sleep much on these soul-soothing summer nights. They remind her too much of evenings with Vanquish, when they would cuddle up together beneath a vast, starlit sky and talk until the horizon faded to a light purple. So on silent wings, the golden mare takes the sky, flying over a (mostly) quiet land by the light of a full moon. The moon whispers in her ear, murmuring about the mysteries of the world. She listens, smiling ever so slightly, but pays it no mind. She knows of the miracles and wonders that happen far beyond their reach, she’s floated amongst the stars and swam in the darkest corners of the earth. Morphine prepared her heir well.
Out of curiosity, she heads for the Field. It’s been several years since her last visit, and though their has been a peculiar influx of newcomers, she has yet to see any of them come to the Desert. They were growing lax in their two-magician safety net; comfortable in the knowledge of their powers and isolated by the sands. Yael knows. It is easy to forget the rest of the world exists.
Tonight - however - tonight, the world is as transfixing as it’s ever been,
With as much sound as a bat, Yael touches down in the field, what light there is glinting of the metallic sheen of her skin, feathers and hair. Gold and silver, she could be made of metal if she were not so warm to the touch, as if she held the Desert’s heat forever inside her. Most are sleeping or occupied with children, so she leaves them alone, wandering quietly amongst the herdless. But one is awake - and so the Ambassador approaches from the left, a soft and gentle smile on her lips. Though many foreigners come through her, she has yet to find anyone of her ilk, none that speak her birth language, or Beqanna’s tongue with her peculiar lilt. Some part of her suspects that she never will, for they are an insular, tribal people who travel as one. They could not survive without the tribe. Except for Yael - Yael survives.
“Xello…” she says quietly, greeting the dappled stranger.” Beautiful night, ees eet not?”
08-14-2015, 02:50 PM (This post was last modified: 08-14-2015, 02:52 PM by Neso.)
The sudden voice startled Neso, causing her heart to thud in her chest as she spun to face the mare whose words carried a strange yet charming accent. It was unlike anything she had heard before. Originating from somewhere far, far away. Somewhere that she could only dream of or hear of in stories told on sleepless nights. Her train of thought was slowed, if not completely stopped for a moment when she saw her beautiful wings folded by her side. It quickly resumed at full speed as hundreds of thoughts swarmed her anxious mind like a disturbed nest of bees, trying to decide if this mare was to be trusted 'Oh, stop worrying, you came here to meet others and to find a home! Not to worry about how trustworthy a horse who is asking you how beautiful the night is! Besides, if they were dangerous they probably wouldn't be trying to speak with you, now would they..? Besides, sure, I'm fast but could I be fast enough to outrun wings? It might just be better to try to talk even if they decide to attack. Remember, always be kind first, for when you display hostility, you can not go to peace but you can always go from peace to hostility,' She though to her self rapidly before she shoved away her thoughts and tried to hind her anxiousness by calmly replied, "It's absolutely wonderful..."
as her chocolate-colored eyes wandered to the sky once more only to be pulled back the mare who stood before her with a coat of silver and gold, looking as if she was a child of the sun and moon rather than one of the earth. Neso's dapples matched the stars, as one horse has told her long ago, but it was nothing compared to this mare. Whispers of curiosity started to curl around her mind and take hold like the talons of a great bird, replacing most of the amazement left from when the mare first appeared with her unearthly appearance. It caused her to look the mare in the eyes, and say, "My name is Neso, may I know yours?"
It had been a long time since he’d even thought of coming here. The Field seems … strange. As if so much has changed since he last stepped foot on this land. In fact, it had changed. Everything had changed. So much so that the spotted stallion smirks at the glaring newness of it all. With faint interest he slips into the throng of horses, the large scar covering the left side of his body causing several to turn in tepid curiosity. He’d worn the mark for so long now that the glares seemed nearly invisible. He’d traded his dashing looks for something much, much more powerful. His amber eyes flicker over them all until they catch the dim glint of gold in the moonlight. There she is - a gilded, winged mare conversing with another of her gender. The gold seems very invested in the conversation, while the grey seems hesitant but inquisitive.
Tiberios knows a pitch when he sees one - that much hasn’t changed. He makes his way steadily to them, a polite grin stretching across his strong jaw. “Might I join you two?” it seems a brash way to insert oneself, but he doubts either will be adverse to the idea. He catches the grey’s name, but he won’t repeat it yet. “My name is Tiberios, by the way.”
She didn't expect to have another creature join them on this silent, starry night.
She raised her head slightly as concern shone in her muddy eyes while the stallion wandered closer. Out of the corner of her eye she watched the mare's reaction to the newcomer, wondering if she would turn foul and hostile, chasing the stallion, known as Tiberios, away or accept him into their conversation.
After a moment of hesitation, her eyes lingered on the stallion's side. Just like the first to enter the conversation, the stallion caused curiosity to ripple through her mind. The scarring wasn't from a normal predator. It was something unnatural.
Something like fire.
Neso could only imagine the scorching pain of your side being lit aflame. It sent shivers down her spine. She quickly swatted away the images of blood, charred skin, and fur that lingered in her mind as if they were biting flies in late summer. Small, painful, persistent, and essentially demanding attention.
"A pleasure to meet you, Tiberios."
Her voice was kind and gentle, as if she was not sure how to treat this stranger; she had only slightly figured out how to treat the other so far. She had no idea if they demanded respect from authority or if they needed to still earn their respect. Either way, it seemed that the best option would be to act polite and respectful. That was what she was taught to do after all.
She took a step back, watching the two strange yet interesting equines. Thoughts raced through her mind like angry bees. Thoughts that seemed out of place on a quiet, moon-lit night when she should be asleep and dreaming of pleasant memories from a home and family she once had, not standing in a field with two horses who she knew nothing about them other than the name of one. She closed her eyes for a moment which ached from a long day of travel. She thought of a new home, one where maybe things will go right. Where she will have a new family. Where she will finally be happy once more.
Even though the thoughts still lingered in her mind, she opened her eyes to see the two horses, this time, instead of caution and anxiousness, was hope.
Before Yael was a magician, she was an empath, and as a result, her ability to read emotions is the incredibly astute. Sometimes it’s the only gift she leaves ‘on,’ preferring to keep her more invasive abilities tucked quietly away. Not that most of Beqanna - at least the adults over five years of age - probably knew who she was. There are many beautifully and strikingly colored inhabitants, but there was only one gold and silver mare with an accent.
The mare’s awe and surprise hit her first, followed by a quick switch to fear and then a slow descent to calm. Ah, yes… Yael often had that effect on newcomers. She meets the dappled lady’s gaze in the dark, and even though she’s not sure the stranger can see the reassurance in her cinnamon-brown eyes, she tries to make it evident. “I ahm Yael. Eet ees a pleasure to meet you, Neeso. - “ Yael is about to ask her where she comes from, but before she can, Tiberios interrupts. Ha. It seems that even at night, it’s a rat race to recruit as quickly as possible. She sighs very quietly and under her breath, and then greets the black and white stallion in the same way she greeted Neso. “Xello Tibeerios…”
And then the former Queen (and mother, eight times over) in her takes charge, continuing neatly on, regardless of the intrusion. “Ahr you alright? You seem veary… xaf you traveled very far?” That, at least, she knew something about.
The hint of worry that flashes in the grey mare’s eyes doesn’t wound him. He knows - it’s bred into him - that instinctually the members of his sex are to be avoided and put at arm’s length. Creatures like him are dangerous to wanderers like her, and for all she knows he has narrowed, disgusting intentions. But her gaze soon strays to his scars and what was once fear is now replaced with pity. Again, Tiberios is equally prepared for this reaction. He smiles gently, encouraging her to hopefully feel at ease, and she returns the favor with polite acceptance to their conversation.
The golden mare seems less perturbed by him, and he understands her then to be an old veteran of this arena. She wastes no time on him particularly, returning her attentions to the polite grey mare with the amiable voice of concern and well-being. She’s soothing, and Tiberios can even begin to feel himself lulled into a sense of trust, relaxation. “It’s a long way from anywhere to here.” He comments with a low chuckle, adding on to the winged mare’s question. His amber gaze flicks to the border of the Field, and he thinks of the journey home.
“But she's right to have concern.” He says, letting his eyes rest once more on the mare who had turned to look at them both with guarded interest. “Is there anything we can help you with?” He adds, feeling that at least he has the opportunity to offer his assistance, if nothing else.
It was strange yet pleasant to hear someone worrying about her as Yael was. Neso thought for a moment before saying, "I suppose I have... I had adapted to a nomadic life for quite a while... Maybe 11? 12 seasons so far? It would be quite nice to put an end to that life." She hesitated for a moment, thinking back to the other travelers she had met as she had wandered the land and what they had said to her. There was one that stuck out in her mind and always had, a light palomino mare who's belly was large and round, as if she would give birth within the next few days. They had briefly spoken. It was late so they found somewhere to stay, each appreciative of the friendly company. They had spoken of her foal, new homes, and the field. She said she couldn't go, never giving a reason why, even though she glorified it as if it were a place created by the gods and brought happiness to all. Once the morning came, they went their separate ways, never telling each other what they were leaving or where they were going. Small bits of doubt collected in her mind and she figured that she might ask to confirm the mare's words that still lingered in her mind to this day. "This is where you go to find a new home, no? Someone had told me of this place and I'm hoping that they haven't misled me..." Her eyes traveled to the mare and then to the stallion as anxiety squeezed her heart and she hoped that they mare had not misspoken. Her mind had seemed to the be there... then again... when a horse carries a foal they become anxious... and a mare carrying a foal wandering in an unfamiliar forest, probably running away from something? Who knows how her mind had been effected up to that point. She could have asked others as she traveled but ti was almost an unspoken rule that she had that she was to never tell where she came from nor where she was going and asking about it would be essentially telling them so she just held her tongue and avoided the topic. Looking back, she was sure that she could have asked at least one horse she passed but, the idea of trusting others scares her, especially then and even now. She had lingered on the edge of the field for days, trying to talk herself into meeting someone then finally desperation kicked in and here she is now.
He is so awkward at these things. In fact he can’t remember recruiting anyone in his life. Usually he doesn’t take this path back to the Gates, however he is simply curious. Such is the way of a nomad, curiosity seems to always be the pull that leads your path. He watches the gatherings in the Field, feeling as out of place as ever. Snatches of conversation reach his ears but only one actually pulls him. Pulls that curiosity. Three stand together, one smells of sand. The other smells of water. The last smells of many things and it’s from her that he catches that conversation, that she was a wanderer quite like himself. In fact she almost seems familiar, as if maybe they had met once during a wander. He had crossed paths with many during the time he had been gone, the faces blurred together much like the faces from his past did. Offering a gentle smile to all of them, the awkwardness in his step apparent for he didn’t want to be rude and just butt into the conversation. ”Hello, I’m Ledger.” He offers as he makes eye contact with each one. ”I know a thing about being travel worn, figured I could maybe help out. If you want that is.”
L E D G E R
(Saw your post in plots and figured I would join in )
Another night owl. Perhaps there were more of them that wandered through the darker world than she realized. She gives the flaxen stallion (he reminds her a bit of Mikhael, her first born, who is also a wanderer) a smile, but does not pause in the conversation.
“Many of us xaf. B’kanna is a land of foreegners and old bloodlines, but everyvone xas an ancestor xoo vas new at some time.” Many years ago, she would have have lost herself in the memories of the past, reliving the fire and the near-death experiences, and her first months in a new land where she couldn’t speak the language. That trauma was replaced by something else - heartache - and everything else seems to pale in comparison to the loss of Vanquish. The war had not brought her to her knees. Neither Nocturnal or Morphine’s deaths (or her little Aviva’s) had thrown her into the magician’s sleep. That giant dragon of a stallion left a massive hole in her body and soul. They had made a King and Queen out of themselves - they, who had no blood connection, nothing but their own will power and their personalities - rose to the top.
She chuckles, a tinkling sort of sound in the back of her throat. “You ahr een ze right place. T’at ees exactly vat ve ahr xere to do - offer you a xome. I leev een ze Desert, vhere I am ze Ambassador and ze Advisor to two lovely Keens, Camrynn and Pevensie. Eet ees a very safe place to leev, vit many opportunities for growt in ze ranks. ” She leaves out the part where it is safe because they have two magicians. Most won’t try to mess with one. With two, the only one that could test them would be the Chamber. Some might call the sands dull, with their guise of peace and prosperity, but there were many open positions, and Yael was eager to try and start to fill them again.
They were unabashed recruiters, shamelessly promoting their own kingdoms. Constantly in competition with each other.
Tiberios
