"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
There is hope that the Gates still stand. It felt so invincible when she was young, consort to Sariel, impossibly in love and blinded to the ways of the world. She was consumed, obsessed, and blind to the pain that love like that can bring. Love's destruction is swift and effortless when you turn away from its warmth and the embrace you so greedily consumed.
October shakes the thoughts away. She no longer wants the ghost of her former self to cling like a spider's web. She wants to be free. Free of the past, free of Sariel's ghost, free of her own shame. She had brought her own failures, her own crumbling destruction. She was a silly mare that had pitied herself long enough. She acknowledged her blame instead of the fits of tears, crying ugly, IT'S NOT FAIR! '...of course it was fair', the words whisper coolly though her mind. It was a long-overdue injustice to finally grow up, but October has done it. She has shed the skin and metamorphosed. It only took her a little longer.
Spring has breathed life back into the Gates, the grass sewing through the early mud, threads of daffodil leaves pricking the winter-worn ground. She can feel the bloom of hope in her own heart. It was good to be back, good to feel a spring chill on her shaggy coat; the Gates would be forever her home.
10-07-2026, 02:31 PM (This post was last modified: 10-07-2026, 02:33 PM by Aera.)
She had only been a resident of the gates for a full two seasons but it felt more like home than any place she had ever been. Spring here was even more stunning than the past couple seasons had been and she had no idea how a place already so vibrant could take on even more hues and splendid flowers to paint the landscpape. She breathed in the fragrance of flora and fresh air, feeling any worries she may have had drift away as she let loose her breath.
She had only met one other here so far, a curious fae mare with a tenancy to sneeze herself into a cloud of fairy dust and spirit away to fae knows where. Otherwise the land was quite empty. When she smells another on the breeze, she curiously followed the scent amidst the smell of flowers. Wings tucked in at her sides and trotting at a slow pace, it did not take the cream and gold maiden long to locate the buckskin mare, who looked more at ease here amongst a patch of vibrant yellow daffodils than even herself. Aera breathed a soft whinny of welcome and took a step forward, dipping her dished head in polite greeting.
"Hello, I am Aera. Nice to meet you!", she says with a voice as delicate as moth wings. She felt like this mare was wiser than she, despite seeming to be a few hundred years her senior unless this mare too was immortal. Aera had met many in her lifetime, found and lost so many friends within her eternity. Yet it never deterred her from seeking out new friendships despite the hurt of losing her mortal companions. She knew not what this mare's story was, what she had learned in her lifetime, but she was curious to find out. For Aera had a deep fascination with stories both sweet and tragic. She tried not to be too forward, not knowing the personality of this stranger, but held herself in a position that showed she was no threat.
October
