[private] take a look in the mirror

[Tarian]

It's too much.

It's all too damn much for Tarian. Cheri with her talk of Taiga and how her grandmother and now father were called Guardians. The return of a lost sibling. Tarian who has been on his own for more than a decade suddenly isn't and when he has the chance, the gray pegasus takes to the sky. Loess is home. Loess is where he has pledged his loyalty and where Tarian assumed would follow his brother into the Afterlife.

And suddenly, all that peace Tarian had made with his past came roaring back.

So he spreads his wide wings and leaves it all behind him again. Tarian flies like something is chasing him and he presses himself to go further and faster than he has ever done. The silver stallion had always prided himself on his aerial abilities but Tarian knew he wasn't the swiftest or most agile of fliers. His Spanish ancestry meant he was too bulky for some maneuvers and he's never been one to show off. The former child of Paradise had been happy to leave all 'flashy flying' to Liam and any races that he had entered in had always been about stamina.

He aimed for distance. He aimed for stealth in the air, crisp wing strokes that left him nearly undetected. He aimed for moving with the air currents and learning weather patterns.

Now, he aims for none of that and Tarian is reckless in the sky. His wings carry him higher and higher, so far above Beqanna that he doesn't see where the canyons that cut across Loess bleed into the Forest. He doesn't see where the ground changes from red clay to evergreen shadows and the clouds cover most of the River. The only thing that Tarian is aware of is that the sky is changing colors. The vibrant summer hue is bruising into a deeper shade and there are others all vying for a piece of the sky. Reds, oranges, even indigo - a color that makes him think of someone who he'd rather not think of at all.

How many hours has he been flying?

Fatigue weighs down his strokes now and while he had been careless before, Tarian finds that being tired makes it harder to concentrate than before. His skin is dark and his muscled neck is lathered with sweat from the journey. He needs to land and coming down from such a perilous height takes time but, somehow, he manages to do it before sunset. A clearing had conveniently emerged - enough space that Tarian could land without risking injury from the nearby trees - but an old wound from the Alliance gives as he touches down. His hindleg buckles from the abrupt force of the ground and Tarian grimaces.

He tries to move but the leg won't support his shifting weight and so Tarian readjusts his wings (loosening them a little, trying to cloak the way that he was favoring the other leg), standing in the dead center of this little meadow as if it was his plan all along.

@[Altissima] <3

[Altissima]

Altissima had been heading towards this meadow already, drawn by the setting of the sun and the chance to enjoy the light a little longer without trees in the way. With spring brought something new to the powers in her, and she no longer felt as drained during the night but some habits are hard to break. The open sky calls to her, painted in brilliant shades that are deepening with each step she takes. A blue-tinted leg is in the middle of taking a step out of the treeline when someone nearly crash-lands in the meadow. At first annoyance flickers through her until she recognizes who it is and then she cannot name the emotion that rises up instead. Altissima does not believe in fate - but Tarian landing in the very meadow she had just been about to step into rattles her. What are the chances that they would both be here? There is a brief moment where she wonders if he had come here to find her but surely not. That wouldn't make any sense, just like how nothing about that last night she had seen him made any sense to her. And the issue with avoiding conversation with others meant that she had a lot of time on her own to think about it. To stew in her confusion about how she didn’t understand how they had gone from poking and prodding at each other to… whatever stupid thing she had been about to do in the hot spring. Then he had left her to the waters, left her to enjoy them, but she had not been able to go back in. She had wanted to, wanted to lower herself beneath the surface until it washed over her and she forgot what it was like to feel a chill on any scrap of her skin. Until it erased the coldness in her that had nothing to do with the air. But she had looked at the spring and just saw the two of them standing there, saw herself foolishly reaching out to him like she expected him to reach back, like he’d be interested in her touch. When she looks at Tarian from the shelter of the trees Altissima thinks about that dangerous moment when she thought that first urgent no had been him asking her to stay. And how for a brief flicker of a heartbeat that had been what she wanted. She doesn't leave now, even though she should. She walks into the meadow instead as though that had been her intention all along and she hadn't hesitated. Her guarded sky blue gaze traces his sweat-slick body, the slightly odd way he’s holding his wings. Concern threatens to flicker through her mind before she can shove it aside, keeping it behind the walls she’s slammed back into place. Hoping they can stop her from wanting to jump off the cliff she is walking towards yet again. As she approaches, the voice she speaks with is not the soft one she had used before he had left, it is one that dances the line between playful and pointed - as though she isn’t riddled with confusion about where they stand, or if they stand anywhere at all, and isn't wondering just what the hell he'd been up to in order to be in the state he was in. “What is Loess’ Champion doing so far away from its borders? Anyone would be able to sneak in.” She wrestles with both wanting distance and wanting to prove she’s unaffected. The latter of these two desires wins out but she is tense when she comes to a stop a companionable distance away.

artwork by cal

@[Tarian]

[Tarian]

Tarian had spent a few years as a scout while in Liridon and though he casually drapes his silvered wings to draw attention away from his odd stance, his blue eyes scour this little meadow earnestly. He notices the areas where well-worn trails serve as entrances and exits; he takes note of where a few nomads have gathered for the evening and assesses the few travelers quietly and quickly. Nobody seemed to have paid particular interest in him (and hopefully his landing) and the Loessian snorts softly.

Good.

(There is the nagging thought that they will notice him once he starts shining like the damn moon but Tarian ignores that for now. He has a few hours yet before that happens.)

He's grateful, though, for these thoughts. They distract him from the recent revelations that he left behind him in Loess - ones he hasn't decided yet if they are troubling (and if so, how much?) - and his brief study of the meadow that he stands in reminds the gray pegasus of his days as a soldier. The white flash of pain that sears up his hindleg is another distraction because, otherwise, he would have noticed the faint sheen of blue and the way that the light of the dying day caught against it as Altissima approached. She would have been the first vision swimming in his blue eyes instead of the lightning strikes of pain caused by an old battle injury at the corner of his eyes.

The warrior hides it beneath a stony countenance that only crumbles when the pale woman comes close enough to see the guarded way that Altissima meets his gaze, not much different from the way that he carefully holds his wings or refuses to shift his weight. As unmoveable as any mountain.

"Then they will have to contend with Ashhal," Tarian says, attempting to stop reeling from his shock at seeing her again. He makes it sound as if the other brute could be something far worse to deal with than himself. The edges of his dark lips tug slightly downward as the Loessian hears himself - of how sharp his words come and it's such an odd sensation because they cut something within Tarian. He doesn't want to come across as angry with her and so something inside the winged stallion attempts to catch the edge of the words. It breaks across his face when the expression finally gives her just perceptively softens.

"@[Altissima]," speaking her name is far easier than trying to explain the torrent of emotions she always seems to inspire. The way that he can see how tense she stands and the battle that stirs to life in him; the way that Tarian has told himself that he only cares for Loess and the safety of its inhabitants and yet here he is, remembering Altissima's laughter that night in Loess and the way that he admired her wild spirit and finding himself concerned that she holds it all back so tightly.

"Not plotting a second attempt, are you?" he asks, countering her question with one of his own.

[Altissima]

Altissima manages to stop herself from scowling at his sharp tone. She doesn't understand the reason for it - he can't have been that bothered by her hasty retreat the last time they spoke, he hadn't complained then - but she's determined not to let it bother her or to give into the curious thoughts that might have her ask just what is his problem. She shouldn't want to know, there's no point in guarding herself if she's just going to ask questions. Her ears twitch when he says her name and she finds herself wishing he would just call her Wildling. Her proper name in his voice is… well it’s too nice to hear. She doesn’t know if he uses it to be formal (because they are back to being strangers with no nicknames for one another) or intimate (because they have moved past those nicknames). Altissima reminds herself that she should prefer for it to be the former - that it would surely make it easier to pretend she does not care for him if they are stilted and formal with one another. It is too easy to fall into the habit she’s formed, though, and her guarded blue gaze shifts to violet when her response to his question comes quickly and easily. “No, it’s only fun if you’re…” But she stops herself before she can continue that particular train of thought, the one that would’ve had her said ‘there to catch me’. It feels like those words are hanging in the air and if he looks at her at just the right angle, he’ll be able to see them. So she backtracks and continues, a spark in her eyes and a little of her self-caused tension eases out of her body. “It’s only fun if I get to see the look on your face when I'm successful.” Which was true enough, and a faint smile appears so she looks away - up to the sky that is shifting colours. She’d come here to watch the sunset, after all, and that is what she tells herself is her excuse for looking away from him. “It should be a bright moon tonight, no clouds. Are you excited, Tarian?” The use of his name meant to be a test of sorts, to see how he reacted to her using it, but even with the barb it is attached to, all it does is remind her of when she had first spoken it out loud.

artwork by cal

@[Tarian]

[Tarian]

Tarian has come to know @[Altissima] well enough that he sees her unravel a bit. The question that he had countered on her had tugged as he hoped it would, loosening the tension between her shoulders and the almost stiff way she had stood. He's become familiar with her enough that he can recognize these things and as he watches the way the tension dispels from her, it is a far prettier sight than the sunset taking shape towards the west.

It almost makes the usually stoic stallion smile.

"Ah," he says instead, still stubbornly refusing to move. "Well, we both know that I'm no fun."

What she says next does make him smile, one that is only hampered by the weight of his damned leg. (Even if the admission that comes means that Altissima would only come to Loess again to prove him wrong, again.) One of his silver wings lifts and instinctively, Tarian goes to shift his weight to the opposite hip. Both the wing and his smile drop slightly, with the silver feathers being the more noticeable of the two. "I couldn't let you sneak in a second time," he murmurs, trying to ignore the pain that came from the slight movement. The spark in her color-changing eyes makes it easy for Tarian to push it away and something brightens in his own blue-eyed gaze.

"Delighted," he sardonically replies to the slender mare. "Nothing I enjoy more than making a show." And then he lifts head, peering over to the speckled creature. He's not shocked to hear her speak his name, but the force that she uses it feels odd to Tarian. The Loessian has heard it spoken many times - especially over the last few weeks as Loess continues to burst with life - but white woman manages to speak it in a way that sounds entirely her own.

Like everybody else has been saying it wrong.

He's reminded of their first meeting, another time in another clearing. Another dusk that he doesn't bother to consider why he recalls so vividly. Tarian is considering something else instead. "Do you do this often?" he asks her, genuinely curious as he remembers that the first time they had met had been at dawn. "Watch sunrises and sunsets?"

[Altissima]

Confusion and concern threaten to rise up when she sees one of his wings drop after he shifts his weight but Altissima is still pretending she doesn’t care so she focuses on his murmured words instead, rolling her eyes in response and remarking cooly “Ah yes, wouldn’t want to ruin your reputation.” As if he had let her do it the first time, but she decides against commenting on the matter further. Pretending it doesn't matter. She is trying to find her way back to an icy stance - to keep herself guarded behind a thorned wall. And then, just like that, when he asks her about watching sunrises and sunsets she forgets the thorns and smiles softly - answering without hesitation. “Every day there is a clear enough sky to watch. My magic…” She trails off for a moment, unsure if she wants to continue, but her mind is quickly made up and she continues with her eyes still up to the sky. “I used to be able to absorb sunlight, reflect it and store it and it gave me energy.” Altissima thinks that was why she had been in the state she was during the eclipse. Even long winter nights left her feeling on-edge before and to be without light for years… well, she doesn’t need to explain that to him. He had seen her close to death, much to her continued annoyance. So Altissima doesn’t remark on that, just keeps talking about the light because it is a safe topic. “Lately though… I’ve been able to do more.” She glances over to Tarian and her smile fades, but it is giving way to a look of concentration. And then he is bright with a sunlight glow and her grin returns at the same moment, violet eyes shining with the warm glow of their own. It highlights his state, though, and she finally lets herself notice him enough to see the odd way his wing is positioned. She hadn’t commented a moment ago when she had seen it drop but now she does, and is distracted enough not to be bothered by the evident concern in her voice. “Are you... injured?” She takes a single step closer before appearing to think better of it and then stops again but tilts her head to try to see just what he had done to himself.

artwork by cal

@[Tarian]

[Tarian]

Tarian had wondered about her that first morning. He remembers staying to one side of the clearing, thinking that how early the day was meant that there wouldn't be another horse nearby. And yet, there had been Altissima looking towards the sky much the same way she regards it now. His head turns slightly, following where her gaze floats up to the clouds. For a moment, he thinks that she is saying there is magic up there.

He's never been much of a daydreamer but he considers the idea, for her (even if he doesn't say so out loud).

Until a silvered ear pricks towards her and he looks back to the speckled mare. No, the magic would seem to be down here. It was with her. It twists something in him - not envy because any anger over the loss of his abilities has been long gone - and his blue eyes gaze at @Altissima with a new light. He'd known that she had gifts; that had been glaringly obvious from the way her eyes could change color or the way that she could dazzle the very air around her, as if Wildling had summoned her own galaxy of stars.

His mouth twitches a little, another small grin playing across Tarian's features because if there could be anybody to command the stars, it would be the woman in front of him.

But her gift has to do with the same sun that they stand beneath. It explains much to Tarian, who can understand now why she was out during that first, bright morning and why she is standing here now. Nothing to do with him but he can't help the way that he feels glad to see her, even if she had never planned on returning to Loess. It is such an odd thought to the stallion who had pledged his life and loyalty to that kingdom, never thinking that there might be something more. Never thinking that he'd be able to offer more than that.

The thought doesn't venture any further because suddenly, he is illuminated (and some part of him is terrified, had thinking of her done that that?)

"No," he forcefully tells himself out loud. But then he stops, finally drawing his wings close to his sides. How had she known that? Tarian has been taught to be wary of Magic but his encounters with Altissima make any doubts he has easily disregarded. Still, he can't quite bring himself to admit to an old injury that he never allowed to fully heal. Abrupt changes in the weather, long hours on patrol both served to remind Tarian about the shapeshifter mare he had battled during the Alliance.

"Just an old problem," he mutters, though the way he clearly favors one back leg is obvious. "It'll pass," Tarian tries to tell her, like the way that his hindlimb bothers him is more of a nuisance, like summer storms. There is a grimace that says otherwise and were it not for his current company, the Loessian might have cursed.

"Did it...," Tarian ventures uneasily, not liking how much he might reveal (or what her magic might have already told her). "Did it show you that?"

wow he is such a manchild lmao

[Altissima]

The subject of his injury doesn’t allow Altissima to gloat overmuch about illuminating Tarian with daylight. She finds herself wondering if she’ll still be standing here when the moon is out - even finds herself hoping so, if only so she can test her new abilities against the glow that will appear around him. It is easier to tell herself to avoid Tarian's company when he is in Loess and she is wandering the wilds. She drops the sunlight glow for now, though when she does the air around her twinkles a little brighter. Then she watches as he draws his wings close to his side and she realizes it wasn’t the feathered limbs at all, but one of his legs. At his question, she snorts and it is enough to ease herself out of the cloud of concern that had been descending on her. Something about his blasé attitude reminds her of 'not-dying' and she thinks this isn’t just a slight ache. “No, you idiot.” There’s no harshness to the word, though, and it is almost spoken affectionately. Altissima doesn’t let herself dwell on the tone, moving on with an explanation. “Or, kind of. I could just see a little easier - saw how you held your wing. I can move light around but it doesn’t speak to me or anything.” This is a better reasoning than telling him she’d been trying not to look at him too carefully when she had first entered this meadow. That it just took a few jokes to make her forget her plans to turn away from him if they crossed paths again, or that she knew his silhouette well enough to notice when something was off. Perhaps this is her turn for a vigil, though there are likely no monsters to guard him from as the world begins to slip into dusk. She steps closer but it is a wide movement that takes her so they are parallel to each other, facing alternate directions, to better see the leg he is favouring. An instinct she doesn’t really understand rises in her to close the space between them and touch it but before she can so much as twitch her muzzle she is repressing this feeling. What would touching it do? Bring him more pain? Well that might be a little tempting sometimes, just not right now. Altissima can do a lot with light and she's never considered whether healing is one of those tricks. She’d like to try and pretends it is something she would want to explore no matter who had turned her mind to it. Not without permission, though - she wonders if Tarian is as stubborn as her when it comes to these things. Well aware of how she would have rather died than spoken of her weakened state during the eclipse, she turns her head to look Tarian in the eye when she asks bluntly “Well, what happened?”

artwork by cal

@[Tarian]

[Tarian]

His blue eyes widen slightly and Tarian even lifts his head.

She's done it again. Done something that nobody else has done (or dared) to do in his entire life. Tarian has been called many things over the nearly two decades of his life but it is Wildling who seems to constantly surprise him. First, she had dubbed him Sir Glow Worm and now she calls him an idiot.

It makes him move to take a step forward and only when his weight shifts slightly forward does he remember the hindleg that prevents him from doing so. Pain flares from the limb and it makes Tarian stiffen as his body jerks back again. Whatever she had done, it isn't the power she wields that tells her anything about his injury. It had just been the way that he had been standing, the way that he had been holding his wings so that they might detract from the leg that he kept from resting on. The Loessian doesn't attempt to move again and stays still, except for the way that his brow creases in confusion.

"You can maneuver light," he mutters, starting to realize exactly what she could do and how powerful she might be. "And you make me glow like a bug."

Tarian should be annoyed; insulted. He knows that he should be and yet as @[Altissima] draws closer, whatever irritation he had vanished. The pegasus becomes aware of the steps between them and his attention follows her when the pale mare moves past him, towards the leg that he is paying no mind to. It pains him but the winged stallion doesn't even flinch when she turns to look at him. His blue eyes meet hers - watching for whatever color might be waiting there - and snorts softly in reply.

"The Alliance." Tarian tells her bluntly, wishing no more to speak of his injury than they had spoken of her nearly dying. Another smile threatens to break against his dark lips and there is only a slight flicker of amusement when he asks, "ever hear of it, Wildling?"

[Altissima]

If she was told, Altissima would have a hard time believing she was the first to call Tarian an idiot. Slightly more believable was that she was just the first to call him it to his face - even though she knows he’s not truly dimwitted. But everyone should call him an idiot to see the sweet surprised look that he gets when he hears that word. His muttering about her powers only inspires a brighter smile and she nods as if to say: yes, that is exactly what she uses the ability for. Why shouldn’t she? It brings her joy to make him glow, knowing how little he cares for being a spectacle. Tarian matches her blunt tone but she is unperturbed by this. What he says does not clarify things for her, though. “No.” And she isn’t even saying it just to bother him. She truly has no idea what he’s talking about, though she’s glad to see the flicker of amusement in his eyes and to hear her nickname. It is easier to stand this close to him when he is calling her Wildling instead of Altissima. Or at least she can pretend it is easy, pretend that she is not trying very hard not to let her eyes wander. Just his face and his leg that’s injured that’s all that exists on his body right now. Her eyes are bright violet with amusement as she shoots back with an airy “Should I have?” Her attention slides back to the leg and she offers soon after that teasing question “I can try healing it, if you’d like. I'm still learning what I can do and I don’t know if it’ll work but…” She trails off, feeling a little unsure with how to go about this - and Altissima genuinely cannot remember the last time she offered to help someone else. It probably doesn’t mean anything that it is Tarian that brings it out of her. The next words are a little softer than she cares for as she looks back to his face to gauge his reaction. “I’d like to try.”

artwork by cal

@[Tarian]