[private] to the lonely sea and sky

[Tarian]

It had been Liam who claimed to have been born with all the luck.

He heard it from the gentle teasing of his numerous family members several times. Liam - his twin brother - had claimed that he had been fortuitous since birth; he had been born the second son and so the mantle of Guardian wouldn't pass to him. That particular weight would rest solely on Tarian's young shoulders.

And so while Liam half-listened through the lessons that Valerio taught (though he always seemed to reserve special attention for their granddam, fabled story-weaver Aletta), Tarian tried to fiercely memorize each word until he could recall his grandfather's facial expressions with almost-clear clarity. He had been the Young Prince and from a young age, Tarian had always considered himself lucky to know his exact place in the world. First, heir and then eventually, Guardian.

The silver-white pegasus tries not to curse in the dark but as he trips over another boulder, he wonders if his brother might have been right. There had been the loss of Paraiso (but that hadn't just impacted Tarian - there had been many who had been displaced by the disappearance of the golden valley) and then his years in Liridon with his stint in an aerial guard that dissolved and finally the years operating with a group that was more vigilante justice than anything else.

Then had come Beqanna.

As he stumbles through this supernatural night, he can't help but wonder about the timing of it. He's spent a year in Pangea doing nothing but keeping quiet and biding his time until his release. It finally comes and so does this eclipse that hangs above all their heads, a haloed-reminder that all their lives hang in the balance below it. The journey back to Loess takes him longer for this reason (and another: a blue-eyed palomino that perturbed Tarian had detained him) but eventually, the canyon country falls behind him, and the rolling foothills of Loess lie ahead. Each one that he travels is like a supple greeting and even if he can't fully see them, each knoll feels likes another homecoming.

Tarian presses his wings against his pale sides, tempted with the idea of taking flight. There are things on the ground, he's learned. The silver pegasus has heard them crooning to each other like lovers in the dark. It had sent a prickling of fear up his spine when he'd heard them. He'd almost flown away then but then the idea had popped into his head of what would happen if he took flight? Could they fly as well?

Flight would make him a direct target and he had no wishes to be torn apart so shortly after his release.

The sound of approaching steps on the sandstone makes the winged stallion want to flare his wings in threat. But he refrains and waits until he catches her opalescent coloring in the dim light that has remained. It was @[Oceane], Queen of the South. "Lady," Tarian greets her by way of a deep whicker. He dips his head but there is a slight smile on his face when it lifts. "Thank you."

His mind reflects with what to ask, what to say. He should apologize for only advancing it to the second round of Alliance (Lepis certainly deserved better). How had Loess fared in his year away? What of the Queen herself? Tarian decides on this while he adjusts his wings neatly against his barrel which hides most of his scars from the recent tournament: "Will you tell me of Loess?"