"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 do not recognize the bay colt, but turn away from my contemplation of the sunset to greet him. I smile, because I am almost always smiling.
Though I had once been slow of tongue I had never been slow-witted. I wonder if perhaps this colt is, with his strange lingering looks and odd way of addressing me. I’ve not been spoken to in this manner before, and am not entirely sure how to respond. So I do not.
“I think we’ve had enough rain,” I tell the boy, remembering the way the Deserts had flooded with too much water. There are still a few patches of unnatural greenery, and the oasis are twice their usual size. For the most part though, the Desert has returned to the way it was. I do not want it to go back – those were dark times.
“I’m right here.” I say to the boy, tilting my pale head to look at him a bit more closely. Can he not see me? No, those are seem sharp enough. “My name is Kreios, by the way.”
04-14-2015, 05:39 PM (This post was last modified: 04-14-2015, 05:40 PM by Nihlus.)
there's no religion that could save me
no matter how long my knees are on the floor
i'll pick up these broken pieces 'til i'm bleeding
if that'll make it right
An insulted looks overruns Nihlus's overly coquettish one when the few-spot stallion basically rejects the child's powers. Too much rain, here? Scowl. There could never be enough of him, in case you have not yet guessed by the way he announces his presence in every new situation. He is the rain. He is everywhere.
"Indeed I must disagree. But no matter." The curl in his voice has turned to rather more of a twist, one which tastes rather sour in his mouth. "I shall leave you to your incorrect opinions." God, he's a smooth talker. Honestly, he's rather surprised with himself. The rudeness of his words is a first happenstance; usually they are queer, though lovely and dreadful. He's never been outright impolite, for his suggestions of killing oneself have always been in good stead. He figures that he shan't tell this Kreios to do any such thing, for it certainly shall not be in good stead.
"If you are only right here, you must have a very boring life." He states, raising a quizzical - and hypothetical - brow. "Surely you have been elsewhere. I am also in the Valley, and the Meadow." Sinking into his hip, Nihlus chuckles darkly. "Or, if you prefer, I have been there, and shall return there again. My parents live in the Valley, though Mother often visits here. Noori, she is." I grin at the mention of er beloved name, overriding whatever the stallion beside me might say in response. "Because of her and father Magic, - or Eight, as you may know him - I am a prince five-fold."
Ah, but my darling Nihlus, you have so much to learn. If only you knew of your true parentage, then you may never halt your bragging; you are, in fact, a prince seven-fold, and only in the previous three generations. Alas, blood truly is meaningless. But hell, he'd be damned if he wouldn't shout his royalness to the world. As I said, plenty to learn, dear boy.
He seems insulted and I do not know why. When he, in turn, takes his chance to call my own thoughts incorrect, I only shrug. I have had far worse things said to me, most of them truer and more hurtful than this young colt’s wounded pride.
Nihlus tells me that I have a boring life and I smile. This is all I have ever wanted, doesn’t he know? A life free of my overbearing father and my taunting brother. A life where nothing is expected of me beyond my simple presence in the kingdom. This life is boring, exactly as I’d have wished it. Mother had once said that only boring horses are bored, but I think that Mother might have been wrong on this one thing. A boring life is a peaceful one, and for all my standing in the Army I’d rather be standing still.
Nihlus seems inclined to tell me of his travels – or perhaps his life, I’m not entirely sure. “I was born in the Dale,” I volunteer, because if travel is what he meant then I have at least done that. “And I’ve been to the Meadow.” Nowhere else though, unless one counts the lands between. I was not born with a great thirst to see the world or to conquer it like my brother has; the sunset here is all the glory that I need.
I wince a little at the word parent, though it is a small thing. The wounds are not so great as if I had been a child when they passed away, but I still at times find myself looking to the horizon for my titan of a father or the familiar speckled silhouette of my dam. I am not fond of the Valley, only because my father was not, but I do know the name Noori. I had thought she had lived here, but I might be mistaken, I often am.
I do not know the name eight, but I do know the words prince. His math is puzzling to me though - “Do you have five parents, then?” I ask, my brow furrowed. I had been a prince once, a prince of the Deserts and a prince of the Dale. I am nothing now, of course, just a private in the Desert’s army. “I only have…well, had two.” It has not occurred to me that he means grandparents. I know mine rules as well, though Father’s family was beyond Beqanna. Mother’s mother was queen of the Dale before her, and her father ruled the Tundra. That is why Kreios is there, I imagine. He wants to live somewhere that our family is powerful. It’s not so strong here, anymore. There is only myself and the triplets, and I wonder if they will all stay.
i'll pick up these broken pieces 'til i'm bleeding
if that'll make it right
The colt's inky bay ears perk when Kreios makes an attempt to satisfy Nihlus' queer questions. He's pleased with the effort, at least, and the insulted air around him dissipates. "I've never been to the Dale. What's it like there?" He's genuinely interested, for unlike his few spot companion, Nihlus has a burning thirst to see all, do all, conquer all. He wants to be large, he wants to be remembered. Perhaps Cerva and Daemron do not, but for however much he is a part of them, he is also his complete own person.
Kreios winces almost imperceptibly, giving cause for Nihlus to be mildly intrigued, for the gesture could simply have been a shiver, or a blink. His dark skin twitches slightly, though from curiosity or the heat, he cannot be sure. He struggles with whether or not to comment on his slight pain, but in the end, Kreios is speaking again, and Nihlus brushes the incident from his consciousness.
"Oh dear me, no." An attempt at a charming smile turns sour as his lips split into his signature chaotic grin. Everything scrunched or pulled in the wrong places, endearing and volcanic. "I've but two parents, same as anyone. I was referencing my grand parents, mostly on my mother's side. My grandmother is Queen Scorch, you know." The revelation of his princehood is revealed casually, for the young man has no binding ties to the fire-woman who he may or may not have met - magical interference with time lines truly does cause headaches, so he moves on from the point.
"But enough about me. Who are your parents?" His voice is heavy, but it always has been throughout the conversation. He asks the question purposefully, but his glowing blue eyes are more sincere than cruel. Since the beginning the boy has had a need to know things, to know everything. Knowing about this Kreios is just another piece of the puzzle, you'll find.
kreios don't you tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash
Nihlus asks about the Dale and I am happy to answer. I have pleasant memories of the place even though it is not my permanent home. “It’s lovely. Rolling hills between the mountains, with forests and meadows aplenty. It snows there, in the winter. Not like here.” I sometimes miss the snow, and the changing of the leaves in the Fall. But the Desert is warm year round and I would not trade it for a temperate climate.
Nihlus explains that he has only the normal number of parents, and I nod. That makes more sense; I think. I had not thought of grandparents. He seems very concerned with royalty, I realize; something I have not really paid much attention too. I could have been a king in my own right and still a disappointment to my father. I have learned that it is best to share with others to make friends, and since I’ve already possibly offended my new companion with my dislike of his offer of rain, I decide that here I will humor him.
“My mother and father were Lyric, Queen of the Dale, and Vanquish, our late King.” I refer to our as the Desert, and surely Nihlus will know that. “My father’s parents each ruled their own kingdoms, but outside of Beqanna’s borders.” I had always enjoyed the stories of Siberia, the White Witch, and Revanche, the king who had won her heart. “My mother’s parents ruled the Tundra and the Dale – Lea and Errant.” That should be enough, I think, but I want to be sure that I have enough royal blood to be considered ‘good’ for Nihlus. “My mother’s grandparents ruled the Dale, the Tundra, and the Deserts.” I meet the gaze of the younger stallion, hoping that I have satisfied him. There is more, but I am tired of talking, and hopeful that he has more to say.
i'll pick up these broken pieces 'til i'm bleeding
if that'll make it right
Kreios answers eagerly, something for which Nihlus is glad. So far they haven’t quite managed to get off on the right foot – err, hoof – but the Dale obviously strikes passion in the large, might I say handsome stallion. His good looks were a distraction, I will admit, but considering the manner of their conversation, Nihlus assumes that flirtations really are not warranted.
"I really ought to visit one of these days,” He remarks, as though suggesting that Kreios might take him. "It sounds like the Valley, except less… evil.” Smooth, Nihlus. Great word choice.
Without missing a beat, the few-spot man begins explaining his heritage. Nihlus’s lips quirk into a half-smile which threatens to explode into one of his chaotic, unorthodox grins. But we couldn’t let that happen, now could we? Kreios might just fall in love, and we can’t have that for a prince of Beqanna.
"Impressive,” He remarks with an appraising look. "I knew there was royal blood all over Beqanna, but I never thought to find some so… Good looking.” What was that about holding back the flirtatious remarks? I forget! "Speaking of looks…” A curiosity suddenly enters his electric blue eyes, their glow almost visibly intensifying. "Are you related to one Kratos? You two have a terribly great resemblance, though I must say that your manners are far more complementary than his. He's a bit of a douchebag.”
Nihlus
rain manipulating, rabbit shifting son of Sinder & Noori
