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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


    this little light of mine; warlight & rhaegor
    #1
    He is the last of them —
    The weakest and the worst, and that doesn’t bother him. He was too much like their dearest uncle, forever off and wandering. Unable to muster a care for politics, passions, and the like. Compared to them, he’d had but one sweet childhood love and nothing else. No secrets to keep or share, no dances with death - oh, he’d felt them both go, farther and farther from him, into places he couldn’t or simply refused to follow.

    So why now, then?
    Why come back now when the candles of their existence flicker hot and bright inside him again? 

    Sviko has no answer to this, just a burning need to at least confirm with his eyes and his nose what he feels to be true in his heart - they’re back, alive, whatever. Will and Rhae are in reach again, and that was the compulsion that made him gallop and run until his lungs screamed for air and his legs screamed for rest. He did just the bare minimum of either, breathing and resting for the shortest spans of time because he felt that time was of the essence.

    If asked, he could never explain that except perhaps to say that he’d been astray for too long and needed something that only the other two halves of himself could provide. Some bond that needs restrengthening through as many of the five senses as possible, and even then, there are some things that just exceed all sense. But the reemergence of two of the beloved triplets, as he rounded out the third, was enough to give him a hunger that he identified as hope, love, and happiness.

    He skidded down paths familiar and worn, but did not make for the mountainous stronghold of Hyaline or the shores of Silver Cove. Those were the places of their mothers and their birth but none of them had even been much to the triplets. Each of them had called somewhere else home, but he knew they liked to frequent the lands around the volcano and so, he entered that acrid smoky territory and began to emit beams of blue light from his forehead. 

    It was a signal to call his siblings back to him. 

    @[Warlight] @[Rhaegor] reunion! ❤️
    #2
    Somedays, he felt more deaf than mute.

    Deaf to the love of two brilliant women, either of whom would be a perfect match for him. Deaf to the shift in Beqanna (one came around every decade or so). Deaf to his inner feelings and to his intuition.

    As always, the once-prince stagnated. Crowned at birth and raised in perhaps the most loving family known to Beqanna, Rhaegor represented the epitome of squandered potential: he lost love, he lost family, he lost social standing. He alone remained. Doomed to the whim of his consciousness, he fell often into comatose states, unable to process the life that fell to the wayside.

    Today, he awoke in Tephra.
    It smelled like home.
    The prince raised his head, flared his nostrils; ash greeted him with an unexpected fondness, warm and granulated against his skin. The memorable scent of Magnus no longer traced these lands; instead, an unfamiliar female scent marked most of Tephra's jagged folds and edges. Intrigued, Rhaegor lurched from where he stood and moved to investigate further.

    Time passed -- more time than he anticipated. When he again took note of the time, the sun set instead of rose; the nearby Kilimanjaro Impatiens seemed to burst into flames from the star's red illumination. Rhae, as though for the first time witnessing the beauty of the world around him, bent his neck and inhaled. The blue of eyes bowed to his lash-laden eyelids, the brown of his forelock a frame for the Arabic curvature of his head; frozen in that moment for some time, he once again appeared to be the Prince of Yore.

    A scent mingled with the flower's, this time familiar. More than familiar: womb-bound. Startled, Rhae tossed his head and half-reared to face the opposite side of the glade he found himself within. Sviko! He projected, weight oscillating as he bounced from left to right, anxious and confused. How many years had passed since he'd last seen his younger brother?..

    How would he tell Sviko about their sister's death?

    SVIKO!
    [Image: rhae]
    #3
    In her waking moments, it is easy to forget her the year of death. There are too many changes, there is too much to do, to dwell on those endless, hopeless days. For the first time in her adult life, she is strong and whole. Nikkai had seen fit to return her to the land of the living with the body of a warrior, and Will relishes the power of a woman in her prime.

    Maybe she should have thought of her son or her lover, used her strength to seek them out, but her womb-mates are the ones who her thoughts most often turn to. Their consciousness brush against her own intrusively, but she does not question it, not yet understanding that she had returned to the land of the living with more than she had left it with. She only knows that in the first moments that she had time to think she misses them.

    Warlight has only just parted with the grulla mare who leads her back to this side of death, but she can not rest. Her muscles still quiver and her mind races. Exhaustion twists her psyche in unpredictable ways, and she suddenly has the urge to search every inch on this new Tephra, even though she knows that she will not find her siblings. Rhae is dead, she had just left him in the afterlife with the promise to return... and Koko, she had no reason to believe he hadn't left these shores. But she gives in to the urge to roam, and that's when she sees his light.

    That electric blue light that seemed to be the binding thread of their family.

    The antler crowned girl doesn't hesitate, the three-beat rhythm of her canter like thunder in the quiet night air. This was not the same blue that Solace wielded, but it was close; it was the exact shade of blue she hadn't known if she would ever see again.

    Sviko's blue. 

    But when she sees them (both of them!) she is once again taught how little she knows of this strange world. Her eyes, black in the night, don't know where to rest, they dance between each brother as she slides to a halt between them. In the end, she settles for a nip on each brothers' cheek, just to make sure they are real, shamelessly reveling in the closeness of them.




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