In another life

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

The field was full today—thrumming with life and conversations and the noises of life. Magnus stood on the border of it all, watching with gold-flecked eyes, his heart beating against his chest with foolish hope. This was what they needed. Desperately. They needed this life, and they needed these bodies, and if even a few of them called the Gates home, perhaps they stood a chance. Perhaps they could fight against the Chamber when it came down to it; perhaps they could protect themselves when hell started raining down.

It is then that his eye is drawn to the shine of another buckskin, and he tilts his handsome head that way, considering the way that he stood and the way that he held himself. After several seconds, he made his way toward the other stallion, tucking his wings into his sides, and making the journey silently. The other stallion looked strong—looked proud. Magnus hoped that he had a heart for battle, as well. He needed it.

“Hello,” he greets as he comes to a stop several feet away, nodding his head in greeting. He was not a hard stallion to look at it, but he was certainly not without his blemishes. Scars and puckered flesh ran across Magnus’ coat—one jagged scar running down his cheek. It had been Joelle’s favorite. “My name is Magnus.” A name that once meant something, but was now just a ripple in the river—something that meant nothing to most and even less to souls who were new to the land. Magnus didn’t mind.

“What brings you to the field today?” It was his favorite leading question. Not everyone liked it—after all, it was obvious that they were here to find a home—but he always found the answer illuminating. Some came here for a haven; others came here for a purpose. He just wondered why this stallion did.

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.