DAWN
when i was shipwrecked, i thought of you
Wysteria had instructed her to find strength without her magic, but Dawn had pursued a separate path. Instead she had found contentment, a small burst of happiness in the saddened wreck that is her life, and she had used that contentment to build strong familial bonds with her tightened family unit. It isn’t much, just Rhaegor and Sunset and herself, but their bonds are stronger than any other ties she has felt in her life. As the lovers mature and settle into a comfortable rhythm, their son grows and spreads his (metaphorical) wings for the first time.
She knew that it was coming - he’s two now, and the darkness has been gone for half a year or longer - but it doesn’t hurt any less when Sunset reaches in for one last embrace before turning away from his parents and setting off. He has promised them he’ll visit often, but it doesn’t stop the tears that prick the corners of her eyes and threaten to drown her. They have built a home within Tephra, but the child needs to see the world and explore on his own and Dawn doesn’t want to be the one to stop him from doing that. Her own mother had encouraged her, and Dawn wants to live a life that Cress can be proud of.
It has been several days now that he has left, and early morning brings Dawn to the outskirts of the Meadow, a light breeze playing at her mane. Her mother has been on her mind a lot lately, and the quest that the lovely fairy had given her whilst simultaneously stripping her of her magicks. Cress had learned to be strong without her gifts at one time - Dawn is all too familiar with the story. The fairies had stripped all of Beqanna of their gifts, thinking them selfish and too unappreciative of the magicks bestowed upon them, either by birth or by quests or by the Alliance. Back then, they had all had to fight for their powers; Cress had despised her fire in the beginning, but when it was stripped from her she was an empty shell. She’d had to earn it back.
Dawn isn’t so sure that she wants her shifting back, which is why she had appealed to the Mountain in the first place.
As her mind wanders, her dark eyes fall on a scarred, golden stallion. Mother had told her stories of her father, a golden stallion with scars like hers, but deep down Dawn knows that there is no way this is Ledger. The man her shifting had come from, if she were to believe that. Slowly, unsure of herself like in so many other instances, she makes her way towards him, calling out a soft greeting as she approaches. If it is Ledger, will he recognize her, or think she is her mother? Cress and her middle child were always so similar in build and features, though Cress was missing ears and Dawn was missing her mother’s thick blaze.
“Hello,” she greets once the distance between them has closed, words failing her as she wonders if this one-eyed stallion could be her long-lost sire.
@[Ledger]