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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    time to take time; Ramiel/Wrynn
    #1
    @[Ramiel] @[Wrynn]

    I wish I could feel it all for you, I wish I could do it all for you

    Time has been drifting since she returned from the land of the dead. At first she had been full of energy, full of drive, and that drive had taken her to the Field, and there she followed Zilpah to the Deserts. But never had she stopped to come to terms with her experiences, and that had caught up to her. Kellyn had been as unable to stay in the Deserts as the first time she tried, and really, she was unable to stay anywhere. The Tundra was home base and she supposed she was there sometimes, she still needed to eat and sleep, but mostly she was gone – mentally and physically – to places beyond.

    It took nearly a year for her to stop becoming ill from the flickers of ghosts at the edges of her vision. Years indeed to learn to control when she saw them, and talked to them, and when she didn’t. Worse still was the other side effect – when the dead’s regrets and words took hold of Kellyn and dragged her into the past, their need to communicate with the living in a way they had been unable to do before overcoming her own willpower. The strawberry girl was in a constant state of ghost-time whiplash, never able to rest. And even when she could sleep, sleep did not come easily. She had been to the end of the world, after all, and the nightmares that plagued her were worse than the waking illness.

    In the end, it was Sorenson who saved her. Her uncle had always been a guardian, a protector, and as a ghost he was no less himself. He could not help with the nightmares but he guarded her fiercely from the over-zealous other ghosts, keeping them at bay until she learned to control it herself. It was a harder thing to learn than time, but Kellyn supposed that she should have expected no less from a “gift” from the demi-god that was her grandfather.

    It was only when she felt firmly herself again, firmly in control of the power, that her ghost-family suggested she find the others. Perhaps they had adjusted better, or perhaps they needed help, but either way, the ghosts couldn’t help with the still-vivid nightmares. The other survivors might be able to. So she went to the meadow, and she listened; many of the names she remembered meant nothing there, and she never heard them, but his was different. He’d made something of himself, and his name was spoken in the Meadow attached to the Dale. King of the Dale. Kellyn remembered him as little more than a child (older than Nihlus and Wrynn, but younger than Kellyn, who herself was barely an adult) but she knows time has passed her by.

    So she goes to the Dale, one Kingdom which she has never considered as a possible home, because she needs to know about the others.

    Kellyn
    the girl who walks in time and talks to ghosts
    daughter of cagney and elite
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    #2



    There was a transition period for Ramiel, too.

    Carnage had plucked them from their lives Before, and though they had all willingly agreed to his terms, it was still far different than any of them could have anticipated. Their dark god had left out several details about the journey (the rips in time and space, the monsters, the langoliers) that, had they known, perhaps fewer of them would have gone along with. He came back a different boy – a man in a child’s body, really. He had seen his own death in the glassy eyes of Oorn, right before he managed to escape. He had seen the destruction of Beqanna, the absolute end of everything even beyond their corner of the world. He had gone to the shoreline of the afterlife, had seen his ancestors long since buried under decades of earth. When it was all over, he wondered what more was really left for him.

    He felt like he had already lived a lifetime in the span of a few days.

    But of course, there is always more.

    The black colt grew into his body and into the ability he had gained in the afterlife. He had gone home (because even if parts of him were forever changed, there was still that same loyalty burning in his blood for king and country). His king, who was also his father, had passed the throne onto him very soon after his return. Tiphon hadn’t known that he was passing it onto a stranger. He hadn’t known that his son was not the same person (his worldview expanded and mind much the same). But Ramiel had tried to recuperate quickly, for the others’ benefit. Unlike the other four, he hadn’t had the luxury of time.

    Now, standing on the same rise he had been when he accepted the crown, he thinks maybe he’s done alright. He’ll never again be that boy who saw everything in black and white, who followed the rules and broke them only begrudgingly. A kettle of vultures flies on the thermals high above him. The grey stallion tracks their motion, a thoughtful look on his face. Something’s crossed over. He wonders if the other animals have their own beaches on the Other Side. There hadn’t been any ghost rabbits or deer when he’d gone back, at least not that he’d seen. And if he hadn’t still been so weary from that last trip, Ramiel might have returned right then and there, if only to assuage his curiosity.

    Movement not in the sky catches his attention. A red blur moves at the edge of the kingdom. He can see it easily enough from his high vantage point, and he decides to move in for a closer look. Weir’s love for all things flora and fauna has taken hold somewhere in his own brain, and he wonders if it’s possibly a red deer. But no, upon closer inspection, it’s clearly equine. And even nearer, he realizes he knows this horse. “Kellyn,” he digs her name out of his mind, not having to search too deeply. Their names will always be with him, he imagines. “I’m glad to see you again.” And he is. He wonders about all of them and means to see them all, too. A smile pulls at his lips, though he looks her over all the same. How has she fared since their shared adventure? Has she struggled like he had, is that why she’s here? “ What brings you to the Dale?”



    r a m i e l

    what a day to begin again

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