so you wanna play with magic?
She is asleep when she feels it.
As acutely attuned to the magic of Beqanna as she is, Camrynn notices the first little tugs that Beqanna makes. She feels it like a ripple, like a disturbance in the force, and it wakes her immediately. The Desert is quiet around her, but the night still feels alive.
Then a form appears before her, a glimmering source of power that pulses amorphously before her. She's felt power like this once before, when she'd stood in the presence of the old gods of the Deserts and been judged by them. In the presence of this power she is respectful, quiet, her head lowered in deference to the obvious greatness. She notices that Pevensie is beside her, and she knows immediately that it comes to them as the queens of the Desert.
It speaks of a new order, new magics, a new oasis that will serve as its home among the sands. It explains what she had felt: that little moment where it had felt like something was sucked away was the removal of kingdom granted traits, wherever they were found. The black mare nods, understanding. The gifts now will be predetermined, more useful, and more sporadic. Camrynn nods again.
And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the spirit is gone, and she and Pevensie are alone in the sands.
They stand beside an oasis, and Camrynn can feel the way the magic flows from it. This must be the new oasis, the new home of their country's spirit. Camrynn steps forward so that she can gently, reverently brush her muzzle against the still waters. It is a respectful, deferential, lover's touch.
Straightening up and stepping away, Cam reaches out with her magic, touching Eight's mind to confirm her suspicions. She knows after just a moment that he has received the same message, the same vision, and the same set of instructions. She senses that the magic has been similarly pulled from all the kingdoms, that it has been sucked back into the ground, from which it will flower outward again, but in a different way.
But more than anything, she senses that there is a fundamental difference in the other kingdoms. She's certain of it, and she turns to Pevensie.
"Everything is different, Pevensie." The other mare will have never heard her voice like this save for during the Deserts throne competition. It is muted, hushed with respect and awe. "This erases mythical and non-mythical. Anyone is free to live anywhere." She pauses then, knowing exactly what that means for Pevensie and wondering if her fellow queen has followed through to the same conclusion. She wonders what the mare would do – she could know, but she finds herself unwilling to pry into the future here.
"That means…" she pauses, unsure how to continue, before gathering herself and looking Pevensie directly in the eye. Camrynn's eyes are Deserts gold today, but their depths are unknowably dark. "A mythical horse could live in any kingdom that was previously non-mythical, with no harm done."
She is nervous to hear Pevensie's response.
As acutely attuned to the magic of Beqanna as she is, Camrynn notices the first little tugs that Beqanna makes. She feels it like a ripple, like a disturbance in the force, and it wakes her immediately. The Desert is quiet around her, but the night still feels alive.
Then a form appears before her, a glimmering source of power that pulses amorphously before her. She's felt power like this once before, when she'd stood in the presence of the old gods of the Deserts and been judged by them. In the presence of this power she is respectful, quiet, her head lowered in deference to the obvious greatness. She notices that Pevensie is beside her, and she knows immediately that it comes to them as the queens of the Desert.
It speaks of a new order, new magics, a new oasis that will serve as its home among the sands. It explains what she had felt: that little moment where it had felt like something was sucked away was the removal of kingdom granted traits, wherever they were found. The black mare nods, understanding. The gifts now will be predetermined, more useful, and more sporadic. Camrynn nods again.
And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the spirit is gone, and she and Pevensie are alone in the sands.
They stand beside an oasis, and Camrynn can feel the way the magic flows from it. This must be the new oasis, the new home of their country's spirit. Camrynn steps forward so that she can gently, reverently brush her muzzle against the still waters. It is a respectful, deferential, lover's touch.
Straightening up and stepping away, Cam reaches out with her magic, touching Eight's mind to confirm her suspicions. She knows after just a moment that he has received the same message, the same vision, and the same set of instructions. She senses that the magic has been similarly pulled from all the kingdoms, that it has been sucked back into the ground, from which it will flower outward again, but in a different way.
But more than anything, she senses that there is a fundamental difference in the other kingdoms. She's certain of it, and she turns to Pevensie.
"Everything is different, Pevensie." The other mare will have never heard her voice like this save for during the Deserts throne competition. It is muted, hushed with respect and awe. "This erases mythical and non-mythical. Anyone is free to live anywhere." She pauses then, knowing exactly what that means for Pevensie and wondering if her fellow queen has followed through to the same conclusion. She wonders what the mare would do – she could know, but she finds herself unwilling to pry into the future here.
"That means…" she pauses, unsure how to continue, before gathering herself and looking Pevensie directly in the eye. Camrynn's eyes are Deserts gold today, but their depths are unknowably dark. "A mythical horse could live in any kingdom that was previously non-mythical, with no harm done."
She is nervous to hear Pevensie's response.
CAMRYNN
co-queen of the deserts, magical, mother of badassery
@[Pevensie]
@[resound]