"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
She knew it was, knew that deep down in the earth the land was still the same as it once had. She could feel some similarities, but the surface had been scarred and reshaped. For years the Dale had been calling her home and now that voice was silenced into nothing. But still Isilya had come, still she needed to see with her own eyes that the Beqanna of her birth and of her childhood was no longer.
Perhaps it could be home again?
That was the thing tugging on her now that there was no longer any real connection to this place. It could still become a home for her. She felt disconnected from it - from the land, from those that inhabited it. How long had she been gone? Were her parents still here, still alive? Did she have any new siblings, nephews, nieces?
Would there be anyone who knew who she was? The little magician all grown up.
She’s dressed in white like the season - soft white flowers bloom among the vines that twist and curve down her spine before ending in her tail. Although the flowers look delicate, they’re strong enough to withstand the chill (aided by a little magic, of course). Isilya isn’t so sure she is strong enough to deal with this season, however. She’s been distracted in her head but a quick gust of chilly air drops her harshly into the present moment and she realizes she picked the worst time to come home again. Why didn’t she come in spring - when she was quite literally in her element? Even her golden skin and points don't shimmer in the grey vastness of this winter afternoon.
Not only is everything utterly unfamiliar but she has no idea where to go from here. Naturally she drifts towards one of the few trees that grow in the meadow, seeking what little shelter their leaf-less state can provide her. At least she feels calmer when she can feel the roots directly beneath her hooves - when she can touch her shoulder to the bark of the tree and feel the life that’s slumbering within it.
Spring might have been a more poetic time to return - renewal, new life - but winter will just have to do.
Her bright eyes, gold and green hazel, scan the meadow. Her natural inclination to trot around and greet absolutely everyone that she can is tempered by the chilly wind and the unfamiliar-but-familiar land she’s standing on. She feels shaken and uncertain for the first time in her life.
Perhaps, she thinks, standing here next to this nice tree for just a little bit longer will help her gain her courage.
05-08-2019, 12:59 AM (This post was last modified: 05-08-2019, 09:11 AM by Astrophel.)
Once time had no meaning to him. It was a continuous cycle, never a beginning or ending. There was something magical about it—a timeless feeling. In those very moments, he had felt completeness. If he knew anything about heaven, he would have surely told you that is where it was. Heaven was among the stars, beyond the clouds and bright blue skies. It was being part of creation itself, being one with the stars.
Yet, time does have a meaning.
There is a beginning and end for all things—good and bad. He had learned that eventually after trying to make sense of this world once again. Beqanna was nothing as it was before for him. There were new faces and new lands. Everything was new. The old world he had known vanished away. His home, the Dale, was also gone too. However, his home has never been truly among this earthly world. It was among the stars and galaxies above him.
He yearned for them. Even years later he still aches for them—to hear their calls. It was only an empty feeling that buried deep within his heart—a black hole sucking everything into the pit of his stomach. It was sickening almost. Yet, he moved on. He had to. There was not a part of him that could linger within the madness and the yearning for something he could not grasp and hold onto.
So, he had made a home for himself somewhere between no man’s land and Tephra for a time. Then eventually the outskirts of Beqanna and the lands beyond had been his escape. He promised to himself that he would return to the stars, just as he had found his way among them before. Someday he would be there again.
But that day still has not come.
Astrophel muddles through his mind, thoughts scattered here and there, as he makes his way across the meadow aimlessly. There is no direction he follows particularly. Only the pull of something leads him forward, a small tug on his heart that calls him back home. The spread of whispers and rumors on his way back to Beqanna told him that Beqanna was healing from a plague that recently touched the land.
Suddenly, a chill gust greets him. The cold winter winds send a chill down his spine, drawing him back to reality. His bright blue eyes search the frosted, brown land that stretches out before him. Taking in the scene that unfolds before him, remembering the familiar land from where the celestial beings had once taken him to be a part of them. Curiously, he peers at the heavens for a moment, but the afternoon does not show any signs of the stars he deeply yearns for. Astrophel quickly pushes those thoughts away.
Hopeless.
It was all hopeless.
Turning his gaze to scan the rest of the meadow, his eyes land upon the snowy flower. His ears perk forward curiously at the mare leaning against the bare tree. The cremello stallion is drawn to the flowers that bloom from vines, running all the way down her spine and ending at her tail. Something tugs at his heart again, and he answers the guidance it gives him.
The cremello boy moves towards the leafless tree where the mare stands. Each step is soft against the frosted grass. His gaze remains steadily on the snowy mare, ears still perked forward but swiveling slight to the left and right as he approaches closer to her. When he reaches a suitable distance, he stops.
“Afternoon,” he says breaking what silence the mare might have had. “A bit chilly today,” he says a simple tilt of his head. “Perhaps not the best day to be out and about,” a boyish grin grows across his young adult face.
She’s not left standing on her own for long - a fact that she is immediately thankful for. There are others in the meadow, of course, but they’re distant from her. Movement in the snow closer to where she stands causes her head to snap forward. Someone is coming over!! She already feels a rush of excitement, a rush of pure happiness course through her. The simple idea of not being alone, even for a couple moments, is intoxicating and she’s doing her very best not to fidget or start dancing right where she stands. She has the enthusiasm of a young puppy meeting a new friend and if she’s not careful, she’d get the whole body wiggle going on.
Isilya manages, she hopes, to appear like a normal, calm, adult as the stallion approaches before stopping before her. She likes him already. Not that it takes much for her to like someone that quickly - a grin and an absence of harsh words does the trick and she’s treated with both of those from him. He comments that it's not the best weather to be out and about in and, of course, she agrees with him wholeheartedly.
“No, perhaps not. But I don’t have anywhere else to go.” She says this with an airy smile - doing her best to distance herself from the hollow sadness she feels when she thinks about just how directionless she is at this time in her life. She’s lived a lifetime, really, but that was somewhere else.
It might as well have never happened.
Enough of that silliness, though! Isilya get your act together. There’s someone new standing near you! More than standing near the tree, the presence of someone else revitalizes Isilya. She could, and has, lost herself in a forest for years but nothing makes her feel more alive than conversation.
Isilya will always get herself acquainted with the earth and plants in any land so she knows that the only way for Beqanna to feel like home for her is to make friends, to root herself in relationships with others. Of all the things she has seen and experienced in her life, that is the one thing she misses the most and the one thing she really has never experienced fully. When was the last time she made a friend that was another flesh and blood equine and not a stag or a cardinal within the woods?
So, that airy smile turns sunny as she focuses on the cremello stallion before her.
“But, if I wasn’t out in this chilly weather, I wouldn’t have been here to meet you!” The wind still has bite to it but already Isilya isn’t focusing on it as much as she was before. Her voice is soft and warm, a voice that is more accustomed to singing and speaking to animals smaller than herself or coaxing a diseased plant back to life.
“I’m Isilya.” She offers next, that smile still bright in her hazel eyes - encouraging him to share his name. She wants to dance forward, to press her muzzle to his and wrap him up in a hug. All the ways she used to greet others, strangers or familiar friends, when she was young. But life taught her hesitation and self-doubt so she remains where she stands, letting her words bridge the distance between them instead.
Happiness was a line thread for Astrophel. Yet, he held onto what little left of that thread had. It was a thin line of hope, but any hope was better than none.
It was a hope that one day he would return to the skies above. To feel the never-ending happiness of completeness he once felt. Astrophel can only hope that he was brought back here for a purpose—a purpose he has yet to discover. It would only be temporary, he told himself repeatedly.
There are only two things he can truly do to find his way back him. He must become part of what he once had been. Something that still has not settled into his own mind very well yet. Then he must find why he has returned to the earthly world again.
The white flower—he likes the idea of her being called that since he found her to be very appealing since he approached her—gives him a warm smile. Her words are quickly something he finds he can relate to. He never really had anywhere else to go. The white stallion drifted from one part to the next, always searching for a way to go home. He likely would always be looking.
“I don’t have anywhere else to go either,” he says with a warm smile back to her. There had been places he lived once. He grew up within the Dale before Beqanna had changed and then when he came back to the changed world, he lived somewhere near Tephra. But nothing compared itself to the galaxies above. Nothing would ever.
Astrophel cannot remember the last time he had spoken to someone else. He often finds himself alone in the silence. It’s something he prefers because he cannot truly understand the world that others live in. It’s all they know, but he knows a much different world than theirs. But there are times he longs to find a friendly face and make conversation. Perhaps it is the loneliness within him that grows, the need for others, just as he still needs the celestial world to fill him once again. He can only imagine his loneliness to connect with others is him adapting to once to his earthly needs—back to the very beginning of his birth.
The mare’s next words bring even a bigger smile to his face. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says warmly. But without even realizing how honest he was being when he admitted he was already enjoying himself very much in these few moment with the white flower mare. Astrophel’s eyes grow warmer as she shares her name and encourages him with a smile he cannot resist. “It’s nice to meet you, Isilya.” He liked her name. It was sweet and warm when he said it. It made him smile even more. “I’m Astrophel,” he adds matching her warm tone as well.
It’s rather immediate but Isilya already thinks she’s going to like this boy. It doesn’t take much, she knows, to win her over to the idea of a new friend but the warm smile that he gives back to her when he reveals that he doesn’t have anywhere else to go either makes her feel warm inside. That’s a connection! Another connection with another living, breathing, smiling creature! It charges her up and she just has to hope that her smile doesn’t start becoming manic.
Or she doesn’t accidentally start making herself literally shine with happiness. She already glitters a little since her skin and points are gold.
Even if Isilya was in charge of picking a name for him – she wouldn’t have come up with a better name for him than the one he introduced himself with. “Astrophel! What a beautiful name.” She exclaims with enthusiasm. It was a name thick with starlight, so that when she repeated it she thought of the night sky, of summer evenings and fireflies. It’s tempting to make that vision happen for them both, to truly fight off the winter with a little pocket of summer, but Isilya refrains. She’s never been one to use her magic for her own personal comfort, or to impress a new friend.
She finds herself powerfully curious about him, but it wouldn’t do to blurt out the dozen or so questions that are bouncing around in her mind. So she just opens her mouth and hopes that what comes out isn’t nonsense. “Beqanna is so different from the one I knew when I was a foal, I’ve been feeling lost.” Isilya feels at ease in Astrophel’s company – he had already been warmly honest with her, it’s no issue at all for her to do the same. Her gaze flicks momentarily around the meadow, at the distant figures of the other horses. All of whom she imagines have a home, have a family.
Though her gaze quickly slides back to him, that bright smile ever-present. “Though I feel a little better knowing I’m not the only one without a home.”
07-13-2019, 03:16 PM (This post was last modified: 07-13-2019, 04:35 PM by Astrophel.)
Astrophel blushed hotly, glancing away from her for a moment, as she exclaimed with excitement about his name. He thought nothing of his name before. It was a simple name—something about the stars, something about loving them his mother had told him once. Now, it was more than that. Someone. No! Not just anyone! But her! The flower mare thought his name was beautiful!
The cremello stallion tries to conceal his red-hot cheeks from her, but he definitely is lightly up like the sun itself in the middle of winter. It feels a bit hotter than normal, but Astrophel shakes it off quietly. He can’t make a fool of himself just yet. Not now. Please no! He pleads to himself silently.
“Thank you,” he finally musters as what feels like hours and hours for him to gather his words. It only had been a few seconds. The smile from earlier still is wide as it can be. His cheeks are beginning to hurt but it’s not the bad kind of hurt. The kind of hurt where you been smiling and laughing to point where it hurts.
It was painful to not also blurt out so many questions that were buzzing around him. Astrophel might be shy and sometimes awkwardly quiet, but he definitely didn’t wish to make a fool of himself! He isn’t quite sure what to say next. Almost being too choosy with what he says. Looking for the right question to ask and the right words to use.
Isilya speaks again. He gasps very quietly at hearing her voice. A thankful look shimmers across his features in a blink of an eye. His ears flicker curiously, the right one twitches to the side and then back in her direction. A sympathetic expression fills his softly outlined features. He can relate to the same feelings about being lost. It was everything he was feeling before (and sometimes still those same feelings).
“It is different by a lot,” he says in agreement. Astrophel’s blue eyes follow her own gaze towards the other dotted horses that occupy the meadow. His gaze lingers on the groups of other horses a moment longer than Isilya’s does. Astrophel had spent hours and hours watching others come and go from the meadow. He watched to learn. Well, to relearn how to be like them again. How to walk the walk and talk the talk. It had somewhat success, but it still felt foreign to him.
He turns his blue gaze back to Isilya who has the brightest smile ever on her lips. The star boy smiles quickly back at her. He can feel his cheeks burning as they turn bright red again. “I’m glad I could help you feel a bit more comfortable,” he says with a tilt of his head as his smile grows wide once more despite how much his cheeks ache from the blushing and smiling.
“What do you remember about Beqanna before you left?” He asks with curiosity.
If Isilya notices the blush, or the way Astrophel attempts to hide it, she gives no sign that she does. There is no waiver in her smile, nor in the happiness that is pulsing through her. If anything, that happiness might have just bounded a little higher - so utterly does she already adore this sweet boy. She has stars in her eyes, the stars inspired by his celestial name, and doesn’t even notice the length of the pause before he thanks her because she’s just so at peace that the little things like that aren’t important.
She is immediately grateful that Astrophel agrees with her that things have changed. Although it doesn’t chase away the sadness at what has been lost, she’s comforted by the fact that she’s not alone. That someone else, that he, her sweet and wonderful new friend, is mourning as well. The question he asks her was one that might have come from her lips in another moment so she is delighted to answer.
Her green-and-gold eyes take on a distant, hazy sort of smile as she thinks back to the world of her childhood. It’s buried under more years than she knows – so many birthdays had been missed and even more have been forgotten – but she’s been reaching for those memories so often lately that they emerge without difficulty. “I remember the mountains, mostly. I was born and grew up in the Dale, and I don’t think I explored outside of it very much. My entire family was in that kingdom, I explored the forests with my brothers and learned about the plants and flowers of the foothills from my mother.” Isilya knows her father was there too, from the soft warmth in her heart at the thought of him – the parent she most looks like – but too many years have passed for her to remember any lessons she might have learned from Tiphon in her youth.
Her attention re-focuses on Astrophel, and her smile brightens a little as she does. “I don’t suppose the Dale is hiding around here anywhere, is it?” She says it with a joking lilt, but it doesn’t quite overshadow the hope that swells in her at the thought. She wants the whole thing to be here but she would settle for a taste – for the silhouette of one familiar mountain, for the sight of gently rolling foothills and the way the water smelt when it cascaded in waterfalls down from the heights.
08-22-2019, 05:56 PM (This post was last modified: 08-22-2019, 06:54 PM by Astrophel.)
He has often found himself turning back to memories that lead him back to his childhood. Some would have called it simpler times considering how old he was, but Astrophel only feels like it was yesterday he was just within the Dale. Much like @[Isilya], Astrophel didn’t really know how many years have passed since he returned to Beqanna. There were many birthdays missed and eventful milestones of his life he should have already lived. However, he simply returned as he was the day he left—young, naïve, and eager.
Astrophel takes note of the way the flower mare’s expression changes. It is the same look he has when he turns back to see his own memories—the days where living life had been much simpler than it is now. He doesn’t focus on those simpler times. Every part of his focus is placed onto Isilya, listening to the days of a world that is far from them now. He smiles softly as she speaks about the mountains, but his jaw drops in surprise as she mentions the Dale (the very place he had called home himself too!).
He doesn’t interrupt her though. Astorphel can only smile more—a joyous expression reaching across his face widely now. Every part of the flower mare’s memory about the neutral kingdom was vivid. It almost felt like he was there yesterday. The star boy could almost feel it now—the mountain air, sparkling water, and abundant plants and flowers across the land. He could see his palomino winged father there now. Perhaps teaching him something about the world and all the glory that it held.
At the sound of her voice, he is pulled back for his own little revere. A shy smile tugs on his cream stained lips as he meets her green-and-gold gaze. “I wish it was!” he replies back, “I would give anything in the world to see it once more.” Astrophel considered for a moment giving up the very magic that bursts through his veins. “The Dale was my home as well!” The sound of excitement begins to increase as he speaks. “My father raised me there while he ruled over the Dale.” He pauses for a moment, reminiscing the days back then.
“The mountains were so amazing back then,” Astrophel can almost picture them again. Looking up to them from the bottom had always made him feel so small. “They were so gigantic and marvelous. I don’t think I have ever seen mountains so grand since then.” He considers the mountains he has seen so far in the new world of Beqanna. The volcano in Tephra comes to his mind, but he also wonders if any other parts of Beqanna would be close to the home they both had known.
“Tephra has a beautiful volcano and terrain.” His blue eyes turn towards the mountain that is within the distance. The mountain where the fairies live is tall and strong compared to the range of mountains that spread across the horizon from his viewpoint. “I think there is perhaps a place some others live at that has lots of mountains…” Astrophel trails off as he searches his thoughts for the name of the land. “I think they call it Hyaline.” He shrugs his shoulder slightly at his prediction and focuses his gaze back onto the flower mare.
The absolute rush that Isilya feels when Astrophel admits that he would give anything in the world to see the Dale again, that it was his home too, nearly knocks her breath away. It is her turn to allow her jaw to drop. “Was it really?” Isilya asks in little more than a whisper as she lights up even more. Though she has no reason to doubt Astrophel’s truthfulness, and of course she does not think he is lying, the coincidence is almost overwhelming. She has been wanting so desperately to find a piece of her home in this new Beqanna and maybe… maybe it was in this new friend of hers. Someone else who remembered that beautiful valley and the mountains that surrounded it.
It’s so overwhelming that her eyes begin to swim with tears as he speaks about the mountains. She hears but does not focus on his description of the lands that exist currently – none of the names he speaks mean anything to her. She’s too busy trying to catch her breath from the reveal that they once, very possibly, shared a home. The happiness within her is just shouting until she think she may just start glowing from the inside out.
Although it is rude of her, just a little bit, she doesn’t respond to what he has just said about Hyaline, but instead reflects on something he said a moment ago. It’s a thought that causes the tears to stop welling, thankfully, otherwise she would likely have fallen to her knees.
“Who was your father? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.” She smiles sweetly, truly not meaning to pry or offend. But his wording got her thinking – their backgrounds, from what she can tell, are incredibly similar. She was also raised in the Dale by her father who had been ruling at the time.
Could they be siblings? The idea sends a mixture of hope and dread through her that she’s not capable of unravelling at this time so instead she just watches with curious, innocent eyes – wondering what the name he might speak could be.
t the sound of the flower mare’s tone changing when he revealed that he also had called the Dale home. Astrophel did not think how such information would affect someone else that once lived in the old world of Beqanna. It seemed after all this time he had forgotten what it felt like to find someone who knew the life you once had. The memories that were only told in stories and simply drifting away from reality.
Was there truly only a few of them left? He wonders where all of them have gone. The friends and family he once knew. The generations after him that came when the familiar lands of Beqanna he knew were still around. Beqanna presently did not feel the same ever since h came back. A piece of him had been missing. Searching for someone or something to help him fill that void he had been missing. He wanted something familiar, but with every turn there was something new. It was only the meadow he found to be the same.
“It really was,” he says gently as he watches tears beginning to swell in her hazel eyes. Astrophel takes a step or two forward unconsciously, reaching out his lightly pink muzzle to touch Isilya’s shoulder softly for a moment. He wasn’t sure what the flower mare was feeling. Happiness? Sadness? Overwhelmed with every possible emotion? The cremello had felt them all since he first came back to Beqanna.
Realizing he had stepped forward and touched her shoulder, he quickly pulls back. A soft redness fills his cheeks instantly. Astrophel holds his breath for a moment as he feels lightly embarrassed for stepping into her personal space. He blinks for a moment or two as the silence between them feels long, but Isilya speaks again.
A sweet smile grows on her soft lovely face. The tears in her eyes stop and for that he lets out a soft exhale of air. “I don’t mind at all,” a boyish grin appears instantly, hiding the redness that faintly appears on his cremello cheeks. “My father’s name was Lion.” He calls the memories he shared with his palomino-winged father vividly. Their time together had been short, part of him still kind of regrets not staying longer, but he knows he cannot hold such grudges on himself for the past. They are simply moments and choices he cannot change. All he can do is cherish what he had with his father.
“I’m not sure how long he ruled the Dale for. It was quite a long time ago I think,” he comments. “I left the Dale and travelled the world for a time. I imagine he ruled the Dale for some time. He loved that place more than anything.” His father was the very reason why he loved the Dale so much still.
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