"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
Rarely has Oceane ventured away from the hot springs now that the perpetual Darkness and winter have joined hand-in-hand. Loess is an unforgiving land when the icy seasonal winds whip over its foothills and through its northern canyon; even less so now that they do not have a low-hanging winter's sun to warm them during the day.
The obsidian viper that had agreed to be her eyes in the Darkness rests at her side again, coiled at the edge of the steaming water. She tells him that today is the day they journey to the eastern border of Loess in anticipation of an arrival and offers him a ride on her back ─ both to keep him warm, and to hurry the trek as much as possible. When the serpent agrees, Oceane lowers herself to her knees at the edge of the springs and allows the black creature to slither up her leg and shoulder, and then to finally nestle just behind her withers and between her feathered wings.
His infrared sight guides Oceane as they head in the direction of the eastern border. The going is slow, but she has long since learned the contours of her beloved Loessian foothills, and finds eventually that they've settled into a nice rhythm. When finally she knows they've gone as far as her kingdom's edge, the unlikely duo sit and wait in the cold winter darkness.
Finally, after what feels like hours, the serpent upon her back indicates that another winged horse approaches.
It's one year later, but Oceane immediately recognizes the scent of the man who'd offered his condolences to her after Lepis' passing and then departed for the Alliance to represent their home.
01-14-2021, 01:51 PM (This post was last modified: 01-14-2021, 01:52 PM by 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?"
There is a moment that passes after she has called to Tarian through the darkness that Oceane finds herself bereft and uncertain. Will he be resentful, that she had let him linger in the wasteland of Pangea for an entire year? Certainly, undeniably, the blame is hers to carry, though her acceptance of this neglects to loosen the knot that sits tightly in the center of her stomach. The expression she carries as his face reveals itself minimally in the darkness is one of relief and remorse.
Lady, he greets her, and the knot loosens in her stomach. From what she can tell, there is no evidence of anger in the way he carries himself or in the azure eyes that hold her gaze. Quite the opposite, actually ─ her own gilded eyes linger on that faint smile that twists at the corners of his mouth as he raises his head from a polite nod. She breathes a quiet, terse sigh of relief and forces the tension at her shoulders to relax.
But his easy demeanor doesn't help her to feel absolved of the guilt she carries, so when the silver pegasus asks of Loess, the Queen of the South hesitates for a moment before responding. “Of course,” she murmurs quietly in the dark before raising her opaline head to guarantee direct, genuine eye contact with him, “But I hope you will accept my apologies first.” Where she would usually feel confident in her words, the darkness makes her tentative ─ nigh on impossible to see all of his face or even what may hide in the darkness around them, Oceane forces herself to continue with the silent assurance that they are alone in this conversation, and that Tarian is a reasonable, kind man.
“I would not have allowed them to keep you as long as they did if it had been at all feasible for me to fight for your return,” she tells him quietly, with sadness at the edges, “I'm sorry that I was not better prepared to secure your return, and more so, that I was not better prepared to protect you from being taken.” She tells him of the past year: of the alliance she had secured with Islandres, of her journey to the Mountain and her plea to the Fairies; she divulges the advantage they had granted her, and the task she had been assigned to receive it (namely, stealing Breach from her throne in hopes it would bring an end to the strife between the East and the South), and then she concludes with the addition of Fiorina to Loess' ranks, and her promotion to lead their Vanguard.
“I am hopeful for this next year. With your return and Fiorina's installation, it feels like Loess could be on the upswing.” She smiles then, her ears flicking forward hopefully as she presents him with the offer she had been sitting on for a year:
“I will feel more secure with a Champion of the South in place. I think it is a fitting title for you, if you accept.”
01-23-2021, 10:04 AM (This post was last modified: 01-23-2021, 10:06 AM by Tarian.)
If the shadows permitted to read her facial expression (or if he knew her better), Tarian might have seen the way that they cast across her opalescent face; the way her face briefly parted like she left room for doubt between the cracks. There are two emotions there that conflict and then intertwine and the silver pegasus can manage a guess of the maelstrom of thoughts that might linger beneath her blue-sheened coat.
He has had a whole year to contemplate why no word came from Loess.
There is no anger within Tarian (at least not at Oceane, none of this had been her fault). There are not many horses within Loess and their precious numbers couldn't be put at risk for just one. Not while they were rebuilding, not while the South was still healing from the fires that Pangea had inflicted on them. If there is blame to be laid anywhere, the gray pegasus has left it with canyons and ravines that cut across the Wasteland.
(Perhaps in his youth - when his temper had been immature and volatile - this might have been a different story. But now, Tarian is merely glad to be home.)
Tarian lifts his proud head to meet his eyes with hers, finally allowing himself to relax within the borders of his kingdom. His wings settle comfortably at his sides and the older stallion studies the remaining Loessian queen. There is a moment that he considers telling her No, that he will not accept her apology because she has nothing to apologize for; but the gray pegasus is quiet because she is a monarch and it is not his place to tell her what to do. It is his place to listen - as he remembers from his etiquette lessons all those years ago - and he does with his light-colored ears flicked forward in her direction.
"My lady, I no more hold you accountable for my captivity than I would think you responsible for breaking the sun," Tarian tells her. It's an attempt at humor (black humor for dark times) but he hopes to ease the sadness that he hears in the quiet of her voice. The boyish smile quirks again - the one that makes him look like his father, Malachi - and he shares with her that his time in Pangea was not wasted. Hesitantly, he tells of the events that occurred during his time there. The rise of one leader - Straia - and then he explains that the Magic had turned on her; the ground itself opening and dragging her into the pits of Hell. Carnage (a God? A Magician?) had come, full of ominous warnings that made Tarian glad to leave.
The pegasus listens as the Queen of the South tells him of the year that had passed in Loess. He learns of her trip to the Mountain and the barter she made with the Fae. He learns that she had stolen the Eastern monarch and some part of Tarian feels a prideful tug of retribution at the admission; he hopes as she does though that it will end the tensions between the two kingdoms.
(It reminds him of when he first met Lepis, patrolling the borders of her kingdom instead of leaving the duty to a sentry. The Southlands and their Queens are certainly things to be admired.)
Despite their current trials, Tarian feels as Oceane does. The winds of Fate might start to blow in a different direction, one finally in their favor. He gives another small nod of his head when she says this before she catches the stallion off-guard. Him? Champion of Loess? He dips his head lower. "If you think it fitting," he murmurs from the back of his throat. "I would serve you and Loess to the highest regard."