I return to the Deserts as the sun begins to sink beneath the horizon, and take with it the scorching heat. The sand is strange beneath my hooves after a day in the Meadow, but as I make my way through the growing shadows I re-acquaint myself with the shift of it below my weight. My ancestors were not made for a life on the sands, yet here I remain; I cannot imagine any other home.
Though this has always been a light kingdom, with my Father’s absence it feels brighter still. He was an ever present storm cloud on the horizon, dark and thunderous and eternally disappointed in me. His death is a weight off of my chest, and though I know such a thought should make me feel guilty, I cannot summon the false emotion. I am not the son that he wanted; Kratos was. I was an embarrassment, shameful, a weakling.
I am not physically weak, of course.
I never was.
But I am not strong in the way that he wanted, not powerful in the way that my mother expected. I was slow of speech and lacked the bloodlust of my twin; did my parents truly expect that there would be any battle-skills left for me once Kratos had inherited it all? I would rather be in company than alone, and I enjoy the mindless chatter that my mother had always scorned as useless diplomacy. But the life of a politician is not a fitting one for the son of Vanquish and Lyric; I should be a warrior.
The moon is a slim crescent in the still pink sky, and I watch its reflection in the still water of the oasis. After a while I break the reflection for a drink, and then stand quietly at the edge of the water as I watch the last of the orange light fade over the western mountains.
so you wanna play with magic? Night falls, and the Deserts spring to silent life. There are so many animals that thrive better at night, when the cold comes sweeping in and they can all emerge without threat from the scorching sun. For Camrynn, day and night might as well be the same thing; it's all equal to her, no matter what she faces she will adapt it to her liking. She's always been partial to the night, however. There's always been something about the silence and solitude, the way the rest of the world seems to fold itself up into a blanket of silence, leaving the night owls alone with their thoughts.
She is acutely aware of (quite literally) everything that goes on in the Deserts, and so she feels it when Kreios returns home from the Meadow. She can feel his thoughts almost as he thinks them, the way he seeks for himself, and the way he feels the Deserts as his true home. She remembers him from the kingdom meeting, the way he had questioned her about her loyalty when no one else had. She suspects that there is more to him than even he knows. And so she decides to go to him.
She rises from the dark shadows beneath one of the oasis trees. Whether she has been there all along or has appeared there suddenly is almost irrelevant, so exactly does she melt into the darkness. Perhaps she is even pulling the shadow closer around her, drawing it in and sweeping it across herself like a cloak. Or perhaps she's simply been lounging beneath the shade, cloaked in shadows no more unnatural than they ever are.
Her sleek body is as beautiful as ever, black against the night sky. Even in the fading light she is lovely, bathed in a gentle radiance that is part sunset and part moonrise. There is a slight breeze as the sun goes, and it flutters her silky mane and tail as it passes. Her tree is close enough that he would likely see her, but long enough that when she moves to close the distance between them it takes her a handful of strides to do it.
"Kreios." she greets, her voice like warm velvet, pleasant and soft. "You smell like the Meadow." she offers conversationally, a small smile playing at her lips. And it's true, he does smell like the meadow, the mélange of other horses, the tender perfume of conversation. That's not how she knows he's been there, but it easily could have been.
"Did you find what you were looking for there?" she asks the question as though it's a regular part of conversation, politely and innocently, giving no indication that she knows he had been seeking more than just company. She doesn't tell him that she can read so much of what's going on inside him, that she knows so much of what eats away at him. And she understands that to simply tip her hand, let all the cards fall, and tell him everything she knows would be counterproductive for both of them. She understands the power of waiting, of letting him come to the understanding in his own time.
It will come, she knows it. CAMRYNN co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
04-20-2015, 12:51 PM
(This post was last modified: 04-20-2015, 12:53 PM by Kreios.)
kreios
don't you tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash
I hear the shift of sand before I see movement, and though I am somewhat surprised I am not startled enough to jump. There is nothing this dangerous so far inside the borders of the kingdom. Even the venomous snakes and scorpions seem to have realized that they are better off in other parts of the Desert, and the jackals have never had hope of felling prey as large as I am.
I am no more or less surprised to see Camrynn than I would be to see any other resident of the kingdom, and I nod my head in a respectful greeting as she comes close. Though I still have some concerns about her ascension to my Father and step-mtoher’s throne, they are now mostly borne from my worry that I have not seen Lucrezia since the beginning of the competition. Yael had not seemed worried at the kingdom meeting though, and so I have reassured myself that I need not fear for her well-being.
Camrynn remarks that I smell of the Meadow even though I am downwind of her, but I am accustomed to the ways of magicians and it does not occur to me to ask how she knows. “Yes, I spent the day there.” I reply, by soft tenor voice nearly at odds with my massive size. My voice is not as deep as my father’s or my twin’s, even though I had the (small) advantage of height on them both. Dorne had told me that it was because I had learned to talk late, but I have not seen her in years, and doubt that she was so skilled to know such a thing. My late speech has made me careful, of course, and I have a tendency to speak less frequently and slowly still only because I want to be sure that each words means exactly what I want it to.
“I think I might want to start a herd,” I say instead of answering her question. That is not entirely the reason I had gone to the Meadow, but since I do not have words for that other sensation I decide it is better to focus on that which I do know. “Do you think I could do both?” I ask, glancing up to meet her eyes. “Have a herd and serve the Desert?” My service is minimal – I am mostly a decoration. I assume that she knows that; everyone else does. What I am unsure of is if I might be expected to do more under her and Pevensie’s reign than I was beneath my father’s. I train still – if running countless miles each day is training – but I have no intention of battling if I do not have to.
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He isn’t stalking Kreois, per se. That would be weird. However, Gaza has been kind of… lingering around, if you will, to wait for a good time to talk to him.
They seem rather similar. Quiet, but nice. At least, Gaza thinks he might be the nice type of stallion. He’s never really had any occasion to be mean to anyone, except in foalhood when he was fighting with Kitra and Akbar. He hasn’t wanted to fight anyone lately. Maybe if he had some cool ram horns he might want to fight. Weren’t father supposed to teach that sort of thing?
He had too little time with his father, but at least he hadn’t been on the bad end, like Kreois. Gaza didn’t know that, of course, but neither of them were the favored son. Akbar was. Kratos was. The two that remained in the Desert were the gentle giants of the family. Gaza can blame his temperament on Yael, thankfully; a pacifist, gentle mother was bound to rub off on one of them. And so the mini-Vanquish wanders over to his half-brother and Queen, half-awkward and not wanting to seem to eager too really meet them. He shakes the black forelock out of his eyes in a very young adult manner. “Hi Camrynn… Kreios. Do you mind if I join you?”
Yes, even Yael’s manners soaked in. He would never go where he was not wanted.
so you wanna play with magic? His wariness does not surprise her. She expects it; she would feel it too, really, especially if she were in his position. She'd felt it at the kingdom meeting, and she knows that the only way to really erase it is with time. In time she will prove that she intends to be a good queen here, to rule with Pevensie and lead them all to however they want to define glory.
But for now, he is talking business. She listens intently as he asks her about herd life. She hasn't considered it herself, but she knows that back in the day, back before the herds started dying out, back when they fought for lands and mares and claims, it was entirely common to serve the kingdom and the herd. She certainly sees no problem with it. And she's about to tell him so, when they're gently interrupted by the most polite of youngsters.
"Gaza." she greets gently, offering the young boy a smile. "I certainly don't mind, and I'm sure Kreios wouldn't mind either." she looks to the large stallion, giving him the opportunity to contradict her if he so chose. She isn't about to start making decisions for her kingdom mates, but really – how do you say no to the little guy? She offers him a genuine smile. "You're welcome to join us." She is aware of their relationship, the fact that they are half brothers, the fact that Gaza has been trying to talk to him. It would be just cruel of her to shut the boy out.
But at the same time, Kreios had asked her a question, and she turns her pretty head to look at him as she answers. "No, I can't see any problem at all with having a herd, so long as you took one of the lands that are under Deserts control, the light mythical lands." she pauses. "It was done quite a lot, back when herds were more common." she flicks her beautiful tail across her lovely haunches. "Any mares you might have would be welcome to serve the Desert too, if they were so inclined."
She decides against saying anything else for now. She doesn't worry about his loyalty or his work ethic. She knows that he tries to do the best he can, but that he's just not his father's favorite child, that there are some things he just didn't pick up. She knows that internally he is struggling with many things, that he and Gaza both have a surprising number of demons within them. She's not about to start running around with a giant dreamcatcher weeding out every problem from their childhood, that's neither her place nor her temperament. They'll work it out on their own, in time.
Or, y'know, they won't.
She turns her head back to Gaza, her eyes shifting to a deep sand-gold as she does so. "Do you think you'd ever run a herd, Gaza?" she asks, seamlessly integrating him into the conversation. He's young, and so she doesn't even know if he knows what a herd is – the herd is a dying breed within Beqanna, an old relic that was starting to pass into memory even when Camrynn was born more than 50 years ago.
CAMRYNN co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
kreios
don't you tame your demons, but always keep them on a leash I glance over at the black yearling as he approaches, and recognize Gaza easily. We might not have spoken before, but we know each other in the way that all Desert members do. I know that he is my brother, but I had not wanted my disfavor with Father to rub off on him (or Kitra and Akbar), and so I have passively avoided them for the most part. I had assumed they were doing the same, at least until his arrival here, and so I greet him with a warm smile.
“Of course!” I say, taking a step to the side to better include him in our conversation beside the oasis. I have never really had a younger sibling before (it is too hard to think of Isadore), and am not sure exactly how to act around him. The same way I would around a friend, I decide as I turn back to Camrynn.
She tells me that what I have asked is possible, and I cannot contain the enthusiastic nod that accompanies it. “Oh yes,” I say as she mentions the herd lands beside the Desert, “I’d not want to go far.” She mentions a time when herds were more common, but I am too young to remember those times. My parents and grandparents are as well, but since my family has lived in kingdoms since they began, I am not aware of that. I know of herds, but have never met anyone that actually lived in or led one. It’s intriguing, to say the least.
When Camrynn asks Gaza about a herd I turn to look at him questioningly. I had assumed that I was interested in herd life because of my deficiency. The same thing that made me unsuitable to my father was what made me curios about a non-normative life. What if Gaza likes the idea? Even being interested is enough, even if he decides that such a life is not for him. Perhaps I am not so damaged as I had thought.
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Goody guy Gaza would like to think that even if Van had openly shown his other son disdain, that Gaza would have tried to be friends with him. I mean everyone likes chasing camels right? Even Pevensie did, and she was the Queen now! It as an activity everyone could shamelessly bond with.
So you see, he wasn’t actively avoiding Kreios. He just wasn’t actively seeking him out until the thirst to know the rest of his family took a vicious hold.
Except for Isadore. He’d probably never want to meet Isadore.
And let’s get one thing straight - he is neither little (though not so big as either Kreios or Kratos), nor young (yes, he is, but the world considers that to be an adult’s age, so no child pity please!), though he has had a certain lack of guidance in his life. I mean look at his family: Yael is so kind, and Zilpah is so silly. He’s never met Mikhael or Etro, and how can his siblings guide him? There was Vanquish… and then there wasn’t. So he seems to be adrift, finally, finally grasping at straws for some sort of direction.
They ask him a question he’s not prepared for; he’s thought a little bit about the future, but mostly in the vein of whether or not he wants to stay in the Desert. He is silent for a couple of seconds, clearly mulling the idea over. “Well…” he begins, “I’m not sure, really. It sounds like a good option, but I honestly don’t know if I’ll stay in the Desert. I would feel kind of bad leaving Ima, but I’ve never seen the rest of Beqanna…” He shrugs his big black shoulders, trying to downplay the fact that he’s never left the Desert, and that is kind of pathetic. Then Gaza tries to throw in a joke. Cause why not? “I mean, the only mares I know are my family and the Queens so… what do I know of women?”
Huh. Maybe the Tundra would be the best place for him. Or the Amazons. They’d know what to do with him.
so you wanna play with magic? Deficiency is a funny word. It implies that there's something wrong with you – and she can practically feel it rolling off of Kreios as they talk. She hadn't fully understood just how poorly he thinks of himself, and she frowns internally as it's finally laid bare. As his queen, she figures she should probably do something about that. Actually, she should probably do something about that for the whole kingdom – they need an activity, she decides, her mind wandering. Mocks or something – it's so easy to do that when you're magic, and can set the scene exactly as you want it to be.
Kreios states that he would keep a herd near the Deserts, and that suits her just fine. The way she sees it, a herd mare for Kreios is a pretty easy target to turn into a horse working for the Deserts too. It's simply practical, simply a numbers game. But if he wants to see it as her being lenient or something like that, he can go ahead. She is Camrynn the Great and Merciful, Bestower of the Power of the Herd. In this one regard, she'd be like the Wizard of Oz, because that power is something he's had all along.
She's surprised when Gaza turns out to be just as negative toward himself. She makes a mental note – apparently being a light comes with an uncommon lack of self confidence and rather impressive degree of self-loathing. Is everyone here so tentative? Yael is not, Pevensie is not – and that's coming dangerously close to naming the full extent of their kingdom. God, they need to get recruiting.
Her laughter is a delicate chiming chuckle at Gaza's joke. She sees it for what it is (is there anything that is not transparent to her, if she cares to look?) but has neither a reason nor a desire to call him on it. He'll figure out sooner or later that she won't be the only one to see right through such things, that it'll be the rule, not the exception.
"If you know me and you know Pevensie, that covers a surprisingly wide range." It's true, on so many levels. Even if some of Camrynn's more chaotic impulses are currently held in check by the vow she's made to the Deserts (or, really, by the collateral she's offered if she breaks that vow) she's decidedly the ying to Pevensie's yang. Or really, she's whatever part is black, and Pevensie is whatever part is white. Two sides of the same coin, the night and the dark, the sun and the illusionist. They also happen to be opposite in personality: sweet, dear Pevensie. Not so sweet, not so dear Camrynn.
"Kreios, once you get a herd established, perhaps Gaza could come visit." she suggests. "So many of our herdlands are so beautiful, and so few of them are used." She's never been there, personally, but she can see them in her mind's eye. And they really are beautiful. She sighs. "We should really send someone to check over them. It's been so many years since they've all been full, who knows if they're even habitable anymore." Perhaps she's hoping that Gaza will take the bait and take the opportunity to travel. Or maybe she actually cares about the state of the herd lands. Who knows. CAMRYNN co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
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