"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
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk felt a restlessness deep in his belly. Ever since the attack, sleep had been little and far between. A season had passed, and it still wasn’t getting better. Night after night he saw flames, and remembered the moment when they took Fiasko. It had been his first and last sight of the queen, and that didn’t sit well with him.
They should do something.
They had to do something. The Chamber was probably laughing. They’d waltzed in, burned the Gates’ tree, kidnapped the Gates’ queen, and got nothing but a peep in response. Kronk ground his teeth. Something needed to be done. With a sigh, he called for Mast.
Kronk didn’t fancy himself a diplomat. He didn’t fancy himself anything but a solider. But, there are times when even soldiers needed to step out of line. He didn’t think he could sleep with himself otherwise. It was better to try and fail then never try at all. They couldn’t take Fiasko back by force, and Kronk doubted the Chamber would be in an accommodating mood, but perhaps they could at least see her. They could at least see if he was alive. If he could bring back news of her and the little princess, well, it would be something.
The white and chestnut stallion paced before the burned tree like a caged animal. Much of the sweetness that lay close to his bones had been worn away. In it’s place was a ferocity he wasn’t born to. There was a rage he had never felt before. Some days he didn’t know why he cared. He didn’t know why a queen he’d never met mattered. It was on those days that Kronk felt sick to his soul. If he lost his honor, his sense of duty, what would be left?
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
If there was anything that Magnus knew, it was the way cruelty could turn even the kindest of hearts hard. He had spent too long railing against the heavens, so completely shattered by the injustice of the world—and, then, destroyed by the own darkness within him. He had slowly rebuilt himself, but that kernel of understanding had never left him; he had never forgotten how the malicious actions of another could tear so deeply into the soul of a man. And now, looking out onto a smoldering Heaven, he felt it again.
The buckskin is walking amongst the trees, those that had escaped the poison, when he sees the other stallion. It was the first Gates resident that he had seen outside of his own son. Noticing the jagged anger that seemed to course through the other, he moved slowly, arching his path wide so that Kronk would have plenty of time to see him approaching. The last thing Magnus wanted was to startle the soldier.
“Hello there,” he called when he was several yards away, coming to a stop. “The name is Magnus.” His gold-flecked eyes took in Kronk silently for a few moments, feeling a familiar rage curdling in his stomach at the sight of the smoking tree. “What happened here?” He jerked his chin toward the destroyed land, knowing without needing to hear the full story that an attack had occurred. The land was battle scarred.
“More importantly, what are we going to about it?”
To Magnus, nothing was worse than inaction. He would bleed himself dry for a cause he believed in. He would give his all for those around him. He could not sit idle when Heaven had gone up in flames. It may not be his homeland, but it was his adopted home—and although he was not the warrior that Heave had ever deserved, he would do right by her. For what she stood for and for Joelle. He had to.
He should have regretted eating that fruit, he should have, but he did not. It was the most scrumptious piece of food he had ever tasted. His only regret was that most of the others had been fouled up, and that he could not have more.
It had taken Anker hours to reach his normal size again, hours of wiggling his stunted legs trying to roll about. Finally though, it had passed and for a while he just lay there, waiting for the feeling to return to his deflated limbs. When he could move again, when the pins and needles feeling had left him, he set out to find the others. They had not gotten far, actually they were right where he left them, standing before their Mother Tree. Overlooking the soiled entity and surrounding gardens. He approached Kronk with little care taken, coming to a halt next to the man. Another was already approaching as well, this one he didn't know, but answer questions he could. "Those Chamber blokes went and burned it all up that's what happened." He snorted, stomping a hoof into the ground in earnest. "It's ruined." He followed up with, a gruff demeanor for a child as he looked at the older buckskin.
"We'll get 'em back. Won't we Kronk?" His little piggy eyes found their way up to the soldier he stood next to. Surely they would do something about it, he didn't know what, but something.
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk stopped his pacing and teeth grinding long enough to nod a greeting to the buckskin stallion that approached him. It wasn’t Mast, but Kronk didn’t care. He needed warm bodies with beating hearts that yearned of justice. If Magnus was that, he was exactly who Kronk had been looking for. It didn’t matter if they had yet to meet, that was being rectified now.
“Magnus.” Kronk said somewhat gravely. “Well met, I’m Kronk.” His face was sober, but his words were sincere. Deep beneath the rage, the bitterness and the sense of betrayal, the tobiano stallion yearned for brothers in arms, for comrades he could count to have this back.
Next young Anker approached, and the colt’s appearance brought a small smile to his face. They had met before, and he quickly discovered that the boy was a man after his own heart. Brave, perhaps a little reckless, with the healthy love of a good meal. He nodded in agreement with Anker.
“Aye, he’s right. The Chamber attacked, burned our tree, and stole our queen with the little princess by her side.” The rage resurfaced, and flame licked the back of his eyes. However, he wished could be as confident as Anker. He wished they could get the Chamber back. But, they were small, they didn’t have the man power or the fire power the Chamber had brought. A fire wielder, a plant manipulator and two of the most vicious horses Kronk had the pleasure of encountering. The Gate’s small army couldn’t survive an all out blitz attack. They needed a plan. Kronk had the beginning of one.
“Oh, we’ll get them back.” He said, with a fine show to confidence he wasn’t sure he had.
“But we can’t just attack. We need allies. A kingdom that brutal must have made some enemies, we should go to our neighbors and join forces. I say we head to the Falls, and see if they too have been spurned by Straia and her merry men.” Kronk grinned wickedly. They would find allies and maybe then they could get ‘em back. There was one more thing however, that must be done.
“But, we need to see Fiasko and her little daughter. We need to let them know that they’re not alone, that we haven’t forgotten them. I propose we split into two groups. One goes to the Falls and one goes to the Chamber. The Chamber group will be taking a grave risk, but I don’t see another way.” He didn’t believe the Chamber would be so low as to hold a delegation hostage, but he couldn’t be sure of that. He, himself, would go if that was the best course. He would never ask someone to do something he would not. With his speech delivered he looked down to Anker. Credit must be given where credit was due.
“You fought very bravely during the raid, Anker. You did your kingdom proud, there are many grown men who wouldn’t have been so bold.” He wasn’t exactly sure if Anker had joined the fray on purpose. But, it had been brave none the less. Kronk had caught just a glimpse of the bloated colt hurtling towards one of the attackers. If their situation hadn’t been so dire Kronk would have laughed.
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
As soon as Magnus hears of the Chamber’s involvement, his stomach knots. He should have known that his father’s kingdom was involved in this. They were always tied up in nefarious plots like this. His gold-flecked eyes burn with fury, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment—doing his best to calm down before he spoke again in front of the two stallions who were still strangers for a moment…even if the were brothers in arms. It wouldn’t do any good for his reputation to be marred immediately for his stubbornness or his penchant for hot-headed action. He had to at least try to think like a diplomat.
Nodding at the boy, he moved his gaze to Anker who seemed to be taking the lead in the scenario. “Allies are powerful indeed, but we have to be careful not to walk into a kingdom with Chamber influence. If I know their kingdom, they were smart about the attack—they would make sure they have a strong support system behind themselves before they did anything reckless. They are vicious, but they are not dull.” He would know, having served as their Lord before and a son of their King. “What is the current state of the Gates with the other kingdoms? Do we maintain any longstanding alliances or are we alone?”
He hoped desperately there was at least one ally to count on.
Listening again, he rolled his scarred shoulders and swallowed, “I can go to the Chamber.” He did not mind the risk, in fact, he welcomed it. “My father lives there and I’m familiar with the kingdom. I do not know your Queen, but I am sure that I can find her and at least pass along the message that the kingdom is alive. That she still has support.” His lacerated lips twitch into a dangerous smile, his eyes flashing with years of his own thirst for battle and a heritage of warmongers. “I can handle any trouble I run into.”
He had approached the small gathering too late to catch the second man's name. This did not stop him from sharing his recollection of the events that day. What he could not recall Kronk provided, filling in the gaps where needed.
Of alliances he knows little. Adorata and Whale had kept him close to the shore of the lesser herds within the realm. He did not know where the Gates could turn for friendship, and he was too young to understand what made a good diplomat. He could try though, at the very least he could try. The second man, the old buckskin, offers to head to the Chamber. Seeing as those were the folks that had caused so much chaos in the first place, Anker did not think it a good choice to accompany him. The Falls though, that was not far, a short trip with little walking. That was more his style, plenty of food on the way too.
"I can go to the Falls, I just gotta ask 'em to join us right? Uh, be our allies?" Well that was frank, could work though, maybe the would like the lad. He tries to listen best he can to the conversation, but being young a lot tends to go over his head. "Your Dad lives there? Your mom too?" That part he had heard, shocked by the information. "If your Dad lives there, and you live here, then why would your Pa live somewhere that would muck up where you live?" That didn't make any sense to the boy. Was that the way of the world then?
At the time of the raid, he had been unsure if he should get involved. He simply could have run off home, back to mum and dad. Now he thought different, they had ruined the tree, more importantly the garden. All that glorious food. That is what had swayed him in the end, the food. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted in his life. Sure it had made him swell up, but it was worth it. "I did didn't I?" He puffed his chest proudly at the compliment, wholeheartedly agreeing. "Hey, don't we sorta need someone with powers? I mean, the wind isn't with us, but that doesn't mean the tide can't be." He looked between them both. The Chamber not only had them out manned, they had a much better arsenal at their disposal.
From above, the wicked shall receive their just reward
Kronk’s bubbling anger and disappointment eased somewhat. They were doing something, as small as that something was. Even taking steps towards fixing the damage that had been done eased his mind. It forced him to focus on the task, rather than on the past. He nodded at Magnus’ questions, and he thought them over.
Kronk was not a long time Gate’s resident. He’d gotten here just a month or two before the tree burned. More notable, he had signed on be in the army, not as a diplomat. Now it seemed he’d have to play both roles.
“That is a good point. I’m not well versed in our Kingdom’s alliances, I’m afraid. The Dale, I’ve heard, is a friend of ours. Perhaps I’ll go there and see what kind of support we can count on. Anker, if you’re sure you’ll be okay on your own, I think we should visit the Falls too.” Kronk did not think it was an ideal situation. It wasn’t that he didn’t think the boy could do it, he was just worried how he would be received. Oh well, these were desperate times, they could no longer afford to baby their children.
“We need more than passive allies. We need strong commitments. We need the other kingdoms to stand up and declare that they’ll send soldiers if any one of us is attacked. We also need them to agree to be with us should we attack. If they can’t make those commitments, then we shouldn’t deal.” A half assed commitment was worth less than nothing in his book. Kronk was well aware that this would be a tough sell. Nobody would want to turn the Chamber’s attention to them. He hoped they could be convinced. He hoped at least a few would see it as their moral obligation. He knew that was a slight possibility.
Still, Magnus had a connection to the Chamber, and that was more than Kronk could have hoped for. It gave him a good chance of getting out of there unharmed. Surely, they would not attack their own son? For all he decided to join the Gates? Kronk nodded.
“Yes, it sounds like you’re the right man for the job, Magnus. Good luck and godspeed.” Again Kronk was grave, but he had a purpose, and that shown on his face. There was just one more thing to attend to. Anker was right. They could use some firepower, some magicians like the Chamber had brought. Kronk considered this for a moment. The answer immediately popped into his mind. Ledger. Slowly, very reluctantly, Kronk spoke.
“I know of one. He’s powerful, but I don’t think he has control yet. If he finds that control, he will be a powerful asset for us.” Kronk’s face turned troubled. He’d been there, when Ledger first shifted into a bear. He’d accidentally mauled Ilka, and the memory still hurt. But, Ledger was a good man, certainly he would find control and help them.
Kronk looked between Anker and Magnus. He was eager to be off, and eager to hear their thoughts on this plan. It was not much, but it was what they had.
Kronk
( @[Jeje] , I'm tagging you because Ledger could be sucked into this ))
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?
Nearly a year had passed since his kingdom had fallen under attack, and still the wound felt just as fresh.
Seasons had changed and yet their tree remained the same; a blackened remnant of what used to be. It was a stark reminder that they were never safe, not really. The burnt tree was proof that hope and goodness were emotions reserved for children and fools. He wouldn’t be caught foolish again.
Slowly but surely, he felt the sad and bitterness in his belly change. It changed into to fuel for vengeance, which tasted both bitter and sweet at the same time. He wasn’t one for confrontation, but they had stolen not only from him, but from his kingdom. They had came in like a tornado, leaving nothing behind but the remnants of their former lives. But the Chamber would never catch them with their heads in the sand again, not if he had anything to do with it.
Early summer had always been one of his favorite seasons, but today he had little patience for something so trivial as the season. Today, he burned with a purpose that he’d seldom felt. Today, the bittersweet taste of revenge was heavy on his tongue. Today, his chest swelled and his resolve hardened. The gray king made his way easily across the kingdom, his destination being the Mother Tree. Instead of dwelling on the sadness of it all, he would use it to help build his resolve. He was in his horse form, and for once he felt powerful and strong, every bit the wild stallion that he was born. Ahead the tree rose pitifully from the ground, and he wasn’t all that surprised to see a gathering already there. He stepped up near them, coming to rest beside a buckskin he’d never seen before. He caught the tail ends of the conversation though, and knew enough to say this man was a friend and not foe. “Gentlemen.” he said, his voice a low rumble. He inclined his head to each, a quick greeting perhaps but he was never one to forgo manners. “To the new faces…I’m Mast.” He didn’t add king, because truthfully he wasn’t sure he still deserved the title. After all, he’d let them be ravaged. “I know I’ve been absent lately, and for that, I apologize. But no more. The time has come to form a plan. I think, the Chamber should be made to reap what they have sown.” Kronk spoke, and they gray gave him an appraising look. It was refreshing, seeing someone step up to the plate in such a way. “Kronk is right. We need to establish ties where we can, and strong ties. No wavering, half spoken commitments. I’ll go to the Deserts. I’ve spoken with their queen before, and find her to be decent. She is also a magician herself, as well as another of their members. They would make strong allies, should they be interested.” Finally, he closed his eyes, quickly shifting into the form of the whitetail deer. Already he’d started an impressive set of antlers, though they were still covered in soft velvet. “For what its worth, the kingdom seem fit to bless me with this ability. It isn’t much in the way of protection, but its perhaps valuable as a spy disguise.” And with that he fell silent, mulling over just where to start.
His newfound powers (perhaps the better word would be senses) were overwhelming at first. He wanted to curl up in a deep, deep hole and close everything to the world. The voices, however, had another agenda. He knew they weren’t in his mind (if anything were truly wrong, his mother would be at his side in a heartbeat), but oh, they were everywhere else. He couldn’t even sleep for days, until he literally dropped from exhaustion. That seemed to do the trick, though his dreams were too vivid and too full of life.
With time, it became less overpowering. He could focus on objects in the distance and tune into certain voices with more ease. Every day, Gaza challenged himself to look farther, to discern particular smells, to try and feel the change in the weather. With time, he knew he would master them. And Gaza has all the time in the world.
Yael sent him away from the Desert, sent him to a kingdom that she said needed more help than the Desert. She could protect the sands by herself, if need be, but the Gates were vulnerable, she said. And he had a son to be a father to. A deaf son. His daughter would be fine in the Jungle (he can’t imagine Lyris ever being weak, or a filly ever wanting for anything in that kingdom). But a deaf son… well he would need a damn good father to protect him. And Gaza had enough hearing for ten horses. So when the large, black stallion says he couldn’t help but overhear their meeting, he means it. There is honesty in his face and curiosity in his eyes, and a residual Desert smell to his skin.
He might be just what they’re looking for. Might be.
Gaza lingers on the outskirts of the mostly male meeting, waiting for a good time to interject. “Excuse me,” he says politely (always polite, his mother raised him with good manners). “I couldn’t help but overhear. I’m Gaza and the Ambassador of the Desert sent me to you. To join or… just help for awhile, if need be. She says the children are safe and she’s happy to bring them back whenever…” he pauses briefly before adding what seems to be relevant and potentially important information that might help them accept him more. “My new son is amongst them.”
He can smell their testosterone and the way it rises with determination. It isn’t posturing - just men who want to protect and avenge their home. He can respect that. It’s what Vanquish would do.
you and I both know that the house is haunted and you and I both know that the ghost is me
Magnus is not quite sure how to answer the boy’s question.
It seemed simple enough. Why would his father’s home destroy his son’s home? But that dove into a tangle web of familial ties that Magnus was not quite ready to touch. He wasn’t ready to confront his father’s fickle affection, of which there was little. He wasn’t ready to confront the fact that his father cared more for the land than his own flesh and blood—that he was more interested in seeing the Chamber thrive than his own kin survive. Of course, the panther-stallion had plenty of offspring to fill in the gaps should Magnus die again. Atrox was not lacking for heirs. Magnus knew it was only Atrox’s once great love for his mother that made him even remotely interested in Magnus and his siblings. That was all.
So he just gave a small frown, “My father is a complicated man.”
Cruel. Tunnel-visioned. Powerful when he chose to be. Complicated.
Then the conversation turns to the concept of needing magic on their side and Magnus feels his skin crawl with the notion. He knew that it wasn’t a bad idea—in fact, it was probably a necessary one—but he hated having to rely on the supernatural to get the job done right. He was born just a stallion with an arsenal of tools that were him and him alone. He had no extraordinary gifts and, over time, he had determined that he didn’t need them. He liked the idea of being a simple man living a simple life. Perhaps his life would not be simple, but that didn’t mean he needed to complicate it more with magic he didn’t understand.
Of course, his son would be powerful some day—but Magnus knew that Ledger was barely holding onto control. He couldn’t be a weapon if he couldn’t master the ability to shift; he would just be a liability. And while the General in Magnus wanted to yield Ledger’s strength, the father in him wanted to protect his kind-hearted son from being used like some tool. They could win this war without forcing Ledger to morph into a beast he couldn’t control yet; they could protect themselves without traumatizing him more.
His golden head turns toward the King who approaches them, and he dips it in recognition. He had not yet told them of his past here, had not said that he had led their army and governed their kingdom before, but the information seemed superfluous. Magnus’ time as King was lifetimes ago. His name, and the names of Joelle and Liefde, had been lost to the winds of time. There was little weight in rehashing his past.
“It is a pleasure, Mast.” He pauses, his voice husky and smoky in his throat, “After I visit the Chamber and deliver the message to Fiasko, I can travel to the Amazons, depending on our standing with them. I was born there and while my ties to their kingdom may be forgotten, I understand their ways. Perhaps I will be successful in finding a powerful alliance there. The warrior women are a force to be reckoned with.”
Magnus had been a prince in the Amazons as a youth, a father and an uncle to Khaleesi. His roots there ran deep and in his blood, he would always consider it the home of his heart. Perhaps there would be Amazonian woman who would recognize his ties—perhaps not, but he would at least need to try.
“The ability to spy well is not one to be undervalued,” he said in response to the King’s shifting. “We may find in time that it is something that gets us out of a tough spot.” And, still, their gathering grows, the testosterone rising in each of them as their blood ran hot with the need for justice. “Welcome, Gaza,” his gold-flecked eyes meet the new stallion and hold his gaze for a moment, evaluating the stranger with the intensity of someone who did not trust easily but wanted to. “We could use all of the good men and women that we can get. I am sure that your assistance would be appreciated.” Then, finally, he looks to the rest of them. “Is there anything else to figure out? If not, daylight is fading and we have much to do.”
![[Image: gqYjsHr.png]](https://i.postimg.cc/KjqNDKxc/gqYjsHr.png)
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