"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
hold me in this wild, wild world 'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
He has never loved a place for itself, at least not at first. He had loved the Tundra because it was something he had shared with his father, no matter how strained and strange that relationship had been at times. He had loved the Falls because he loved her people, or at least one particular line of them. He had liked the Deserts because Morphine had loved them, and the Amazons because he admired its residents. But a lack of attachment had left him adrift in the new world, without his familiar Kingdoms. He'd tried in Nerine, honestly he had, but it had lacked, well, everything.
But there is something about this chain of islands that he can feel himself growing fond of already. It is remote like his Tundra, green like the Falls, hot like the Deserts, and altogether too much like the Jungle for true peace of mind. Many days he can be found out in the open, on the sandy beaches where open space gives him room to spread his wings and feel the brush of air through his feathers. Today he has retreated into the trees, familiarizing himself with the rest of the place he now calls home. A faint, familiar sound drew him deeper and deeper into the greenery and now he stands gazing into the dazzling blue hues of a powerful waterfall. He'd followed a stream to the edge of the cliff where the water fell, and then half-jumped, half-drifted to the bottom where water pooled before turning into a fast-paced stream once more.
The land feels more and more familiar - but he supposes at some point he'll need to meet the people as well.
hold me in this wild, wild world and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
Circinae and Brennen are of the old world, the last few that remain. Soon, only those who are chained by Immortality’s sinking weight will be the ones left with a clear vision of how Beqanna was, and then long after that such a vision will become a tale, and after that … a mythos.
Perhaps this is why Circinae had served in kingdom after kingdom too, never seeming to settle (try as she might.) There’s too much of the Chamber in what’s left of Taiga, and Hyaline had seemed as close to the Falls as one could wish for, but always there’d been something lacking, something just not right.
For her, it was missing the feeling of sand beneath her hooves. As Circinae stretches willing legs out to meet the shore, the sensation fills her with affection and remembered complacency. Ischia is beginning to feel more a part of her with every day that passes and she can only hope, as she slips up into the umber cover of the humid treeline, that the rest of her growing members can feel the connection too. They’d come of their own accord and that is the reason she suspects they stay - because this had been something they wanted, something they believed in.
Through the bends of tangled wood, over root and rock alike, Circinae winds with an easy familiarity. She’s kept to this land as often as she can and lately, she’d not been getting much sleep anyways. Coupled together her hard work had soon made a mental map for her to follow and she winds through the landmarks in her mind as she passes them, Twisted trees, Largest pond, and finally Winding stream; the most recent place she’s discovered.
It’s her intention to find its source today but upon reaching the pool of water that composed the streamhead, she finds with pleasent surprise that its already been discovered. A crashing waterfall sets the backdrop and draws countless birds to its source, though it seems as if the water has snagged a recluse Circinae has long been wanting to meet.
Brennen, the bay stallion who’d come unexpectedly to make Ischia his new home is standing picturesque in the scene; Circy eases slowly to where he waits. “Stunning.” She calls out, her voice a bit strained as it makes to outroar the power of the Falls. “Is this where you’ve been escaping to?” The Keeper teases lightly, trying to make sense of his vague coming and goings.
hold me in this wild, wild world 'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
The chattering of the incessantly noisy parrots goes very briefly silent, heralding her approach, but it is only momentary before they start up again, just barely audible over the noise of the waterfall itself. The noise of the waterfall masks the sound of her approach, but it is this brief pause in the calls of their resident aviary that tells the bay stallion that someone is coming, but that it is someone they are familiar with. They are curious creatures, the parrots, but they do tend to stay quite quiet at the imminent approach of strangers. He tears his amber gaze away from the water when the sound of her footsteps are no longer masked, and is inexplicably pleased to see their Queen coming up, flashing her his quiet half-smile as he waits for her to come to him.
The first word is pitched loudly to carry over the din of water and winged creatures but she is close enough to lower her voice when she continues, the tone able to be light when she does not have to shout to be heard. "It reminds me of another time," he admits, letting himself step slightly closer so that he does not have to raise his voice at all. "Another waterfall." There is untold sorrow behind the solemn words, a hint of his age in his honey-brown eyes that isn't betrayed in the lines of his body which will never age. "A girl who loved that waterfall," he adds with a very short chuckle, because thinking of Neraza always makes him smile. He doesn't have to add, a girl who I loved because that is obvious from the way he speaks of her, to anyone who has known love. "I find myself falling in love with Ischia, in a way I have not loved a Kingdom since my world came crashing down and my Tundra vanished." he is honest with her, because he would want her to be honest with him. "It is nice, though, to have small reminders of what was in what is now." He looks again at the waterfall, and he can see the girl and her descendants dancing about its base - but they are only ghosts.
"What do you miss the most, about the old world?" he asks the serious question after a pause, turning to lock his gaze on Circinae because he is honestly curious about her answer. He finds more and more nowadays that most of his companions were foals, if not unborn, before Beqanna changed, and sometimes it is nice to take a moment with someone who knew the world before, even amidst trying to build a life in the here and now.
hold me in this wild, wild world and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
A semblance of easy tranquily overcomes her in Brennen’s presence. There is neither the strange pressure of a female in unknown male's company, nor the awkward first attempts at making conversation. His ease with banter and emotion is quick and certain; Circinae watches it unfold with hungry interest as he regales times already gone. “A girl who loved that waterfall.” He says, and for a moment she too can picture the sight of horses doused in water, manes flying and eyes bright.
“The heat of the desert sands.” She smirks, knowing the answer as soon as he asks. His remembrance of the old Beqanna isn’t lost on the aging mare. Circinae could recall the old kingdoms if she tried, The Falls, The Deserts, The Chamber ...The Dale, The Gates, the Valley…Tundra and Jungle. Like a nursery rhyme for children at bed. “I can still smell the baking earth and feel the shifting floor. Always moving, like it was alive - and it might as well be, for all the dead things there.” She laughs, opening her eyes because she was unaware that she’d closed them in forlorn longing.
“At night the sky was perfect though. Like God himself had thrust a fist into stardust and cast it out among the heavens.” The green mare sighs, easing into a relaxed stance. “Perhaps that’s why I’m beginning to love it here too;” She muses, “There are stars in the sky and stars in the sea alike.” Circy riddles, talking about the glowing plankton that washed ashore each night.
“Is that Waterfall what you miss the most?” The mare asks, tilting her fine head up to view him with newfound interest. “The waterfall and the mare?” She wonders to herself.
Circinae
@[Brennen] LMAO I just now saw that I tagged Kylin in my previous reply. That's what I get for copy/pasting and not double-checking.
hold me in this wild, wild world 'cause in your warmth I forget how cold it can be
He has no expectations of her reply, well aware that she may miss the most one of the Kingdoms he is least familiar with, so he is relaxed and curious and ready when she begins to speak: and still, he is caught by a jolt of surprise and ever-so-brief sorrow when the Kingdom she speaks of is the Deserts, because as she is describing what she remembers most clearly about the Deserts, Brennen can feel himself back there, remember the sun on his wings as he flirted with Morphine, and the endless stars above them when they lay quietly at night.
Another woman he loved, another Kingdom he loved because of its Queen, and another loss. Still, he mourned Morphine for many years and then he celebrated the time they had together instead. He loved her, but he does not miss her the way he misses Neraza; perhaps because they had less baggage between them. Just a brief, brilliant love affair and two bright daughters. “It was cold at night, under the stars,” he breathes the words, eyes flickering closed before he opens them again, focusing on Circinae and her question.
What does he miss the most? Oh, that ‘most’ makes such a distinction, and he takes a moment, considering, and thinking of the last place. His place. He loved a mare in the Falls, and he loved a mare in the Deserts; he misses both places and he dreams about them, and about the women he loved and their children, as well as the other women he didn’t love but who graced him with children. But most? He loved his Tundra the most. “I miss the Waterfall. It was always a place of peace, a welcoming place. And I also miss the Deserts, and the feel of sand under my hooves.” He shifts, wishing this sand were just a little hotter.
“But I miss my Tundra the most. My Brotherhood, even when I didn’t always get along with them. It was so big, and everything was wide open and it was cold, but there was so much sky. Perfect for flying.” His wings are half-open, an unconscious motion, but he folds them again and gently changes the subject, easing them into the present. “What do you envision for Ischia, Circinae? Surely you have a dream for it, besides just handing it over to someone else when the time is right.”
hold me in this wild, wild world and in your heat I feel how cold it can get
-Oh my love, don't forsake me; Take what the water gave me-
They’ve talked about the past, about longing and love lost, but they haven’t talked about regret.
It comes to mind when he mentions the Tundra. Born of heat and fire with an attitude to match, Circinae had kept to her childhood sands and preferred the company of adders and scorpions rather than the company of her own kind. It had cost her - in the experience of knowing her homeland before it fell. Now, she feels too at home in this new land; already the burning sands and starry night skies fade from memory. Their sharpness feels dulled by his final question.
“I wanted my children’s children to grow up here, on this island.” She spoke, a private wish now uttered aloud because she knows it will never come true. “But politics and thrones are no place to raise a family.” She sighs, easing forward until the lapping water hungrily envelopes her forehooves. She cannot regret coming here, taking this burden onto her back. It had felt right - her followers had agreed and their support had been more than she expected.
But her family - Canaan and Jah-Lilah, Crevan and Corvus, perhaps even Nyxa now - feel as if they’ve lost her. “It was never meant to last.” She wants to tell him and for a brief moment, Circinae’s eyes fly to Brennen’s face, “Nothing ever does.”
She stops herself, though. Stops herself from speaking about the one thing she’s been contemplating for some time now. “I want to leave this world better than when I entered it.” She says instead, relaxing her once rigid stare in favor of turning back to the water. Already the semblance of her gift has conjured itself upon the surface, swirling lazily with rising speed as the Keeper tilts her head back once more for a brief adieu.
“Ischia is better, Beqanna seems quiet. I feel my goal has been achieved, Brennen.” The aging mare tells him, all the while a pliable grin takes shape over her mouth. “Take care of yourself - and Ischia, for that matter, if you love her as I already do. Not all of us can look so good at your age.” She winks, sliding ahead into the churning portal.
In the end, she’ll leave him without a trace. No footsteps to say where she’s going, only imprints on the soil of where she’s already come from.
