"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
05-26-2021, 05:16 PM (This post was last modified: 05-26-2021, 05:17 PM by Aela.)
YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
They had spoken some time ago.
Reave who had attempted to show her what a narrow view of the North she kept. Reave who became Guardian of Nerine, taking up the mantle that once belonged to their beloved Heartfire. Reave who seemed to understand that Aela was a soul not told but asked, not commanded but requested.
She's taken her time in coming but the golden girl finally goes against what she had once proclaimed; she returns North. There is no magical barrier, no fire and brimstone exploding the craggy coastline. There is only the imperial granite that rises - gray and commanding against a sea that will continue to crash against it until Beqanna (or the Faeries) sinks below the ocean. Would there be a rebirth? What would Nerine - which might have once been the Jungle - look like?
Aela shivers against the damp, repelling away any memories of Taiga.
The palomino is somewhat relieved when the Redwoods fall behind her and the climbing steps that take her higher lead her well inside the Nerinian border. She doesn't hesitate to cross it, not when it is her half-brother who leads the territory. If there had been any question at her presence here, all Aela would have to do was flash a smile that she shared with the chestnut tobiano. Those striking looks would have identified her as a (close) relation to the Northern Guardian. If they had needed any further proof, she would have tossed her pretty head to make them take notice of the flaxen mane and fixed them with a stare so that they wouldn't miss those blue eyes.
And for any other doubts, Aela wouldn't have minded playing with her fire. Wouldn't have minded recalling any terrible memory.
It doesn't take her much longer to find the cave, a secluded spot that had once been a favorite of her Grandmother's. The scent of her is long gone and Aela is surprised to find the absence of the comforting smell twists something in her. Of all the things that she had thought upon returning to the North, the loss of Heartfire hadn't been one of them. Aela decides to look away from the empty chamber and out across the Moors, away from so many memories of warmth and comfort, and is greeted by the Northern chill instead.
All it will take is a glance and he'll know.
One look and @[Reave] would come.
Reave could not claim to have settled in to his guardianship of the Northern peninsula. The truth is, he had not settled at all. He returns, pleased to have this place to call his, but he does not settle in the normal sense of the word. Of course, if he had paid more attention to his history lessons, he would know that is not at all odd for those of his dubiously illustrious ancestry.
Today however, the moment he returns and casts his sight forward, he knows there is a newcomer. The future is a finicky beast whose branches reach out in many different directions, but there are some things it can tell him for certain. He had expected her (after all, she had said she would come), but it had been impossible to tell just how it might play out. The one thing that each and every one of the futures he sees now have in common is that they are all intriguing.
And intriguing is something that Reave will never ignore.
The great eagle soars ahead of him, plunging down to the cliff face towards the tide-beaten sands below. Rune carries his sight on his wings as he goes, pulling up just before the shallow cave in which Aela stands. He lands in it’s open maw, the feather’s of his crest raised as he peers inside with predatory golden eyes. The eagle had grown as Reave had, now standing nearly tall enough to reach the shoulder of a horse as small as Aela.
Reave is some minutes behind his companion, sauntering down the beach with a casual stride that suggests he had not hurried nearly as much as he could have. When he finally reaches the mouth of the cave, he peers inside, blue eyes bright in the dim light behind the soft glow of his bone mask. In the shadows of the cliffs, the gruesome rupture of glowing bones is illuminated far more brightly, highlighting the strangely formidable sight he now makes.
The slow grin that begins to creep onto his features as he steps inside does nothing to dispel the imposing aura. “I’m afraid I’ve started without you.”
06-06-2021, 06:22 PM (This post was last modified: 06-06-2021, 06:27 PM by Aela.)
YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
Her brother is not the first to meet her at the cave. Aela's eyes move first to the raptor that lands and the way that its feather rise, the way that its molten gaze regards her. Even if she can't see Reave yet, she knows that the Nerinian leader is nearby. Her usual expression of indifference changes slightly as she studies the creature, taking note of its size and how much it had appeared to have grown since their last meeting.
She sighs, turning away from the eagle as the minutes continue to pass. (Aela likes Reave. But she doesn't like anybody enough to be kept waiting for long.) Her flaxen tail whips against her golden haunches, the only outward sign of her irritation.
Finally. @[Reave] emerges with his ivory bones catching on the sunlight. Aela - who had been lingering on one side of the cave - takes step towards the center. Her lovely head lifts and tilts towards one side, taking a moment to appreciate Reave's growth as much as she had noted his companion. Those bones made him a jarring figure, made him appear as something harsh and brutal even when Aela suspects that chestnut might have the same soft heart as the mother they share.
But the slow grin is inspiring. Perhaps not.
Aela offers a cool smile in reply, "Oh, do show darling." Her blue eyes brighten and flash mischievously. She had hoped that he would be stirring up trouble; when she had come across Nashua and the two had so viciously argued, she had told herself that Reave would be worth it. The pretty smile that she shares with her half-brother could make a beggar out of a king. And to sweeten it, she adds: "and perhaps I'll tell you what I've been up to."
In a way, keeping her waiting, even for the short amount of time he does, is his own way of demonstrating he will not be leashed. Not even by someone as captivating and delightfully similarly minded as his sister. If they were to do anything together, it would be a partnership and nothing less. Reave, for all his youth, is not naive. He has learned enough of his sister to know she wishes to be admired and catered to. But as far as Reave is concerned, there are a hundred other fools who could give her that.
What he has to offer is far more than what they have.
And so when he steps into the mouth of the cave with the slow smile growing on his lips, there is nothing subordinate in the gleam of his blue eye. She steps forward to meet him, a matching mischief in her gaze as she replies to his provocative statement. Her memories team around her as she does, an argument rising to the fore. Their brother, so righteous and proper he struggled to understand their shared vision.
Reave is less worried about that however. He has little doubt Nashua could be brought around to their way of thinking. Not by Aela perhaps, who grows so heated when she is challenged, especially by her kin. Reave on the other hand has no such problem.
“Perhaps you’ve heard,” he begins impishly, delighting in his position. “Nerine is now mine.” For so long Aela had borne a grudge against the North. But even now they stand on a dynasty, one started long ago by ancestors beyond even Heartfire. And Reave had broken the mold. “Did you know there has only ever been women in charge of Nerine?” His grin widens. “Until now.”
Though it is most certainly enough, it is not nearly all. But the rest does not come with a ready explanation. He steps closer, eyeing her with a speculation that borders on the devilish. “You needn’t tell me what you have been up to though.” His eyes gleam in the dim light of the cave, uncanny in the dim glow of his mask. “It’s written across every inch of you.” He pauses then, a sudden amusement growing. “Would you like to know the future?”
06-09-2021, 07:59 PM (This post was last modified: 06-09-2021, 08:06 PM by Aela.)
YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
With others, Aela expects submission.
There are two categories into which she places all the horses she encounters: they are useful or they are not. For those deemed 'useful', the palomino tucks what those purposes might be until she needs them. Those that have no use aren't given a second thought or glance. Aela moves away from them like summer fades to fall, the way that the brightly-colored leaves eventually lose their color and become nothing more than dirt.
But with Reave, she has come to expect the mischievous glint in his blue eyes. A match to the impish one that burns in her own.
"I did," she lilts back in a sing-song voice to her brother. The awry smile on her lips speaks of her approval. Nerine had belonged to their mutual ancestor once and Aela thinks it's fitting that the moorlands have found their way back to the bloodline. With one brother in charge of Taiga and the other commanding all of the North, Aela thinks this triumvirate of siblings is something she can use to her advantage. It's just one more boon for the Pampas, she thinks.
Ironic, given that this realm is one that still manages to get beneath her golden skin.
The victorious grin that Reave gives her - the first male leader of Nerine - is a salve those irritating thoughts. Perhaps the North was capable of redemption. Her slight smile curves a little more at the thought and the striped mare nearly laughs at what the Nerinian implies next. "Me?" she demures to Reave and lowers her blue eyes, "what trouble could I possibly get up to?" They rise and if the Seer were to skim across her memories - to glance across her Sight - perhaps he might see the meddling she had started in Loess, the opportunity she presented in the Pampas.
Whatever else she has done is kept concealed beneath that same wry smile.
His next question catches her off guard. While Aela was aware that Heartfire could see many things, the future was not something she was aware that their grandmother could foretell. Was Reave's power greater than that? She glances to the chestnut tobiano, holding his stare long enough to search for any sign of bluffing or just brazen behavior. But the young stallion holds nothing; there is nothing that Aela can sense in his emotions or demeanor to signify that he is lying (and why would he do so to her?)
"Is there more than one?" Aela finally asks, because the path forward has never seemed straight. Because something in her - while burning to know - wanted to know that if the future that @Reave saw wasn't what she wanted, Aela wanted to know she still had the power to change it.
They had both been busy since their last meeting. Just as he can see her deeds and misdeeds in the swirl of emotions around her, so too could she in him. In so many ways it makes it easier. They understand one another on a level impossible for anyone who is not like they are. But just as she had grown, so too had he.
He would not remain stagnant when the world lay at his feet.
“So very coy,” he replies wryly, blue eyes gleaming from behind his glowing mask. He steps closer, erasing the distance between them with ease. Rune settles behind him, giving them a glowering glance before proceeding to ignore them in favor of preening his feathers. “It’s better saved for someone it’s not wasted on.”
There are no secrets between them. Even if she could level her emotions to hide the memories they carry, he had only to open the door to her sight to find whatever she might try to hide. He does not feel the need to at this particular moment, but the possibility lay between them like a heavy weight.
Still, he manages to surprise her. It is written so clearly across her delicate features, tangled with the lines of concern and doubt. The suspicion that he might be lying. His grin widens, bone-armored features shifting to something positively devilish. He is not above lying of course, but in this he is not. And she recognizes it quickly enough.
Her question when it comes is a clever one. She had clearly given this some thought before today. “Yes,” he replies simply finding no reason to demure. “They spread out before you like the delta of a river.” He tips his head then, eyeing her curiously. When he continues, there is a droll amusement in his tone. “Finding the right one has proven perilous, but I have some very good guesses.”
06-13-2021, 05:09 PM (This post was last modified: 06-13-2021, 05:13 PM by Aela.)
YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
Aela's head tilts slightly at the mention of coy but she makes no apology for it. She is who she is and even as she flashes a simpering smile to her sibling, the palomino has no atonement in her lovely expression. The golden eagle settles behind Reave but the golden mare has leveled her gaze on her half-brother. "Nothing I do is without purpose," she reminds them both.
Her smile curves slightly, because no accomplice would know this better than Reave.
For everything he sees, he won't fail to miss that every horse that Aela interacts with serves a purpose. She leaves nothing to chance. Every conversation, every action started by the palomino has a desired reaction and the striped girl is attempting to place dynamite all across Beqanna. A spark here, a flare there. All of it is kindling for what Aela considers the flames of destiny (though perhaps not the literal flames as the Pangean warlord Ghaul once prophesized; a multi-kingdom war would suffice).
There is a glimmer of concern when Reave describes the future as a delta that spans out. A flood instead of the flames that she has always envisioned.
"Then I will trust you to guide me in the right direction," Aela says, though her voice lacks all the earlier assurance. She braves the next part of the conversation because it wasn't just her future that @[Reave] was speaking of; it was all of Beqanna.
For as much as she worships herself, Aela manages to sound reverent when she asks: "What have you Seen?"
He expects no apologies from her and would be disappointed to receive them. Just as he would not truly expect her to change her most natural defense against the whims of the men in her world. But he is not them, and so finds no pull in the sweet simpers and coy glances she so habitually gives. Her allure is not in her pretty face or rounded hips, nor is it in the implications of what that might normally mean for a red-blooded man.
No, he rather pities the fools who had fallen prey to her seductions. He knows there have been no small few. Do they know they’d been taken for the lusty idiots they were?
He grins at her reminder, though it is quite possibly the last one he needed. He quite understands the purpose as it were, but so long as she heeds his reminder as well, he hardly cares if she is desirous of keeping her wiles sharp.
As her intrigue grows in the wake of his admission, he watches her curiously. Prophecy is a strange and ill-humored thing. It rarely works as one imagines it will, rarely treads the paths one expects. Reave has thus far avoided offering anything that might sound prophetic, though he easily could. He would not be taken for a fraud should he be proven wrong, as prophets so often are. And in the end, only time would prove which is true and which is false, not his own sense of what someone may choose.
In this at least, Reave too easily recognizes his own fallibility. And he is vain enough to wish not to play the fool’s fortune teller.
“Many things,” he replies cryptically. Nearly a repeat of what he’s already admitted. But if he is to share his insights, she would understand completely just how changeable they still are. “You should know I can’t tell which is right or wrong, I can only guess which is more likely.” He tilts his head then, eyeing her openly, lips fixed in a wry twist. “I could tell you how you and I stand and watch the world ignite and fall into chaos.” He pauses. “And I could tell you we are not what we thought we were and fall into the cold realm of the forgotten. Both would be true.” The twist lifts into a faint grin, blue eyes gleaming ominously from a glowing skull. “Does that trouble you?”
06-23-2021, 07:28 PM (This post was last modified: 06-23-2021, 07:30 PM by Aela.)
YOU'RE ONLY AS SICK AS YOUR SECRETS
Aela dances along the lines of prophecy often. She feels it stirring - an electric-type current, a feeling almost akin to a summer storm before it rages - when she dreams and as she schemes. It had first come alive with Skandar, a vision that brightened with every shape he took. The pair of them had glimpsed a world that they might send into chaos, merely from whatever terrifying thought she imagined and the way that the star-marked stallion made it his own. Their time in Pangea had tempered that dream a bit, the heat of it first being swallowed with Straia, and then it had faded when the darkness came.
As she can with many things, Aela can feel Fate. She knows when a happenstance moment is something more than that, when the memory takes root and grows into something even larger than their Mountain.
She feels it now, here with Reave.
For a moment, there are as many questions filling Aela's mind as there are stars in the night sky. He has seen many things, an answer as cryptic as their grandmother would give, and the feeling shifts in her chest. The palomino mare can feel a strand of pride tugging there, a string of endearment that she hasn't felt for any of her other siblings. There was no way to tell if the paths taken were 'right' or 'wrong'; Aela would have argued if there was such a thing as that in their world. Some were taken advantage of and then some were doing the taking.
The latter is what Aela intends but as her brother foretells, they could both end up in places they never expected. Things could end as they never would have imagined (and when does life ever go to plan?) And those two foretellings could happen without ever intertwining; the world could fall into chaos all on its own, without any help from Reave or Aela. They would become forgotten eventually, because there is a part of her that thinks eternity doesn't exist for anyone.
Not even gods.
"No," she answers her brother honestly. Her smile returns, though perhaps not as coy or simpering as it had been. Aela doesn't want to imagine a bleak future. "But could you help me?" the normally prideful palomino asks with a tilted glance towards the Nerinian, "Perhaps narrow the different paths down a bit. Find the one that leads to igniting chaos?"
Though he had never intended to be some twisted version of their grandmother, it seems their particular gifts lent to it all too well. Though he does not hoard secrets as she had, neither does he have the clear answer she would wish. Did that make them two facets of the same stone then?
He watches her as she digests the information he had just imparted, curious if she would be disappointed in it. He is pleased when she is not, proving herself everything he had imagined she is. She is not content to leave the future in the hands of fate. And more, she would join him in tempting it in all the ways his chaos-born soul could desire.
The questions she asks are not simple ones however. The grin on his lips widens, blue eyes growing in intensity as he considers her request, feet shifting in unconscious agitation. He had never been good at remaining still even at the best of times. After a moment, he responds briefly, “I can try.”
His gaze grows distant as he tries to pluck at the threads of the future. They are inconstant and shifting, as changeable as the waves crashing against the nearby shore. To pluck one thread and follow it is nearly impossible in the way it twists and branches from him, infinite paths to follow. Some lead to the same ending, streams and creeks all joining one large river. Yet others meander off entirely, almost too distant to follow. Though outwardly it does not appear straining, he can already feel a headache growing at the back of his skull, the sharp pain indicating he is extending the limits of his ability too far.
This would require a different approach then.
Coming abruptly back to himself, Reave focuses on Aela, a sudden seriousness in his gaze. “If Beqanna were a tree and each kingdom and territory it’s branches, which one do you imagine would take the most branches with it if it were to fall?” he asks, gaze fixed unflinchingly on her. “Our choices make the future. I need to know what yours would be.”
