"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
“I like birds, but I’ve never seen a cliff.” Is what Israfel had told Reave as she had followed him out of the water. His movements pulling her along without her even thinking about it, as though there was a string tethering her to him.
She stops, now and then, on their journey whenever she sees something new - but for the most part she is eager to keep up. Eager to see their destination. The feeling of apprehension will not leave her but it does not drag at her golden hooves either. She will not let it, stepping a little quicker when she thinks she might stop and never move.
And when she is tempted to slip into the shadows under a copse of trees and disappear, she looks over to her first - only - friend and feels that string tighten and she feels her excitement again.
The land they arrive in is so open, more so than the meadow that had bordered the forest, and Israfel instinctively drifts a little closer to Reave. “This is your home?” She asks, annoyed with the way her voice trembles a little but she doesn’t ask to be taken away again, she doesn’t turn and flee. She’s excited, there just also happens to be a tiny bit of fear there too as she takes in the grassy moors and the way they seem to just end off in the distance, like the world stops at their edge.
It had not taken Reave long to find home in the stark cliffs and windswept expanse of the moors. He had grown in the heavy wood to the south, but even as a youth, he had not been designed for a gentle or easy existence. There is a harshness in the way the glowing bone frames his face and sharpens the lines of his body, a wildness in the gleaming blue of his eye that matches these open expanses. He had made this place home so easily because he had been cut from the very same cloth that created it.
As he eyes his golden companion, he has to wonder if she would appreciate it as much as he does.
It’s foolish to care if she would, but a part of him does. As though, deep down, her approval of the home he guards would be akin to approval of himself. It’s an absurd notion, but he still can’t seem to fully separate himself from it.
His eyes gleam as she asks if this is his home, sweeping the rugged expanse with an air of possession. When they land back on her, the look in his eye does not change, though a faint grin pulls at his lips. “Yes,” he replies simply. He wants to ask if she likes it, but he can’t bring himself to. If she didn’t, he’d rather not hear it from her lips. Instead, his grin widens and he asks, “Would you like to see something?”
Her attention turns to her companion, enjoying the moment of watching him as he surveys his home. Israfel does not think she’s looked at anything like that before. Even the shadows of the forest were not really hers, she was just a guest hiding amongst them.
No more hiding now, though. There are few shadows in sight even if she wished to.
She means to tell him how beautiful she finds his home, because that’s surely what the feeling inside of her means. That mix of fear and excitement she’s coming to associate with Reave himself, so it only makes sense that his home would inspire similar reactions to her. She doesn’t get the chance to yet, though, because his grin widens and he asks her a question.
One that she does not need to think about for a moment.
“Yes.” She replies back, copying his simple reply with a grin of her own. She wants to say ‘of course’ because that is what she feels. She thinks she’ll always say yes when he asks her that question, even though she’s not sure what else there could possibly be. She’s already seen so much. Is there a limit, she wonders, to what Reave can show her? The way that it looks like there is a limit to the world in the distance where the land stops?
But she keeps that 'of course' inside for now and just nudges him instead, encouraging him to lead the way to whatever it is he wants her to see.
He watches the play of emotions and the trail of memories they bring, unable to contain his curiosity. The desire to know more - to know how she sees him. She had followed him home, but this northernmost peninsula is a far cry from the cocooning safety of the forest or gentle freedom of the meadow. It is harsh and open and wild, with few places to hide when the world grows too bright.
Except the caves. He wonders then what she would make of the caves.
The very place he intends to bring her when the ‘yes’ slips past her gilded lips. His blue eyes gleam with a delighted anticipation at the sound of the simple word, grin stretching his lips when she reaches out to nudge him. He reaches out and lips briefly at a stray lock of her golden forelock before bursting forward with a laugh.
He leads her down to the beach, continuing north until the hills rise into an imposing, rocky line of cliffs. The caves nestle beneath, some obvious, some entirely hidden unless one knows where to look. And Reave knows exactly where to look.
Rune cries out overhead. He knows where they are headed, and he is not pleased. But then, the raptor has always hated enclosed spaces.
Reave picks through piles of stone until they reach a small opening. He halts before entering, gaze turning to Israfel, the impish caste to his features perfectly matching the curve of his lips. “They sleep during the day,” he says, voice low, almost conspiratorial. “But if you know where to look, they’re not hard to find.” He pauses then, features gentling almost imperceptibly. “I think you’ll like them. You remind me of them.”
Her eyes are wide again as they travel to the beach and she gets her first glimpse of the ocean up close and the never ending expanse of it. She almost stops - almost drifts towards it, drawn by the way the light glints on the surface. But Reave is looking to the cliffs, and she follows close behind him. She’s not sure what he’s looking for so she cannot help and she is far too distracted to even if she could. Everything is new, everything wonderful - even the call of the eagle overhead.
Finally Reave seems to find what he’s looking for and she stops beside him, looking at the small opening in the cliffs. She does not want to go into the cave, not really, but Israfel knows she will go if that is where he leads her. It reminds her too much of the forest, now that she’s had her taste of open space, and she worries that if she goes in there she will find it so comfortable she will not find her way back out.
But her bone-armoured friend grounds her, speaking conspiratorial words she doesn’t fully understand. Are they visiting someone? And when he mentions that she reminds him of whatever they are here to see, her nose wrinkles a little. “Is that a good or a bad thing?” She asks, though she smiles as she says it - thinking that if he says she’ll like them then it must be good.
Israfel's golden eyes return to the opening in the rock and she nods, encouraging him forwards before finding more words to say, excitement winning over her nerves yet again thanks to him. “I’ll be right behind you, though you won’t see me.” As soon as they slip into the shadows she will disappear, but she’ll still be able to see and that is what truly matters.
Her wonder and apprehension would be impossible to miss, but he brushes them aside in favor of the deep curiosity and longing tangled through them. For all that her fear of returning to what once was is written through the memories of the forest, he knows this would not be the same. Could not possibly be the same.
He laughs when she asks if his assertion is good or bad. It is a delighted sound, threaded with genuine amusement. “Good, of course,” he replies, though the grin on his lips is decidedly wicked. For him, it is an excellent thing. Whether it would be for someone else though, well, who would he be to say?
When she nods at him, encouraging him forward, he pauses a moment to peer at her in silence. Only a few heartbeats pass, but it is long enough to fuel curiosity. Then, abruptly he presses his nose to her cheek (an unspoken comfort) before pressing wordlessly forward. He knows the darkness would welcome her like an old friend, wrapping her in its embrace as it hides her from view. Even so, he would never lose her. She had already let him in, gifting him her sight. It is not an easy thing to retract once given.
Pushing forward, he leads her inwards, pressing deeper until, eventually, a soft, nearly imperceptible glow begins to rise from the darkness. He slows then, bumping almost clumsily against her (without the outline of her form, it’s hard to tell where she begins and the shadow ends). With a faint grin, he leads her slowly around a bend until, almost abruptly, a bird takes shape in the darkness. The gilded edges of it’s feathers emit a soft glow, glinting against the golden accents. Upon seeing them, it lets loose a loud and indignant squawk, feathers rising, wings flapping uselessly as it charges them.
Reave, unable to help himself, lets out a loud laugh as he dances sideways, pressing into Israfel, away from the ungainly fury of the bird.
Reave’s touch to her cheek solidifies her resolve and she follows him without any further hesitation - a smile dancing across her face just before it disappears. She laughs softly when they bump against each other, fitting into the space as she eagerly looks around for the source of the glow - excitement overcoming her fear easily now. She isn’t even focused on the enclosed space at all (or not significantly, at least) as she follows him then suddenly there is a bird.
But it is unlike any bird she’s ever seen before - this isn’t the small brown songbirds she knew in the forest. It is large and glowing and looks incredibly angry at the pair of them for intruding.
Israfel’s eyes widen in alarm and a shriek escapes her in time with Reave’s laughter. Fear pulses through her and then suddenly it pulses outside of her too - a power she’s never felt before pushes out towards the golden bird who is, in the blink of an eye, is disintegrated. Golden feathers settle through the air and she and Reave are treated to a shower of fine red and gold mist.
She doesn’t even know how to react - she’s frozen where she had been. Eyes wide and face frozen in shock, though these things are invisible. But her breaths are not subtle as panic sets in and she feels like she can't get enough air into her body fast enough so each inhale is right on the heel of the previous one.
As his laughter fades into an echo, her shriek alongside it, the bird that had been charging them suddenly explodes into a shower of red and gold. The abruptness of it startles him at first, but rather than the fear one might expect, a gnawing curiosity envelops him. His gaze shifts to her, invisible as she is in the shadows. The blood does not bother him (why would it?), but there is something strange in seeing the flecks of gold that gleam in the dim light his own bones emit.
There is no judgement, no accusation, in the light of his blue eyes, dimly illuminated by his mask. Instead, there is an almost intense eagerness behind the thoughtfulness of his demeanor. As though he is entirely delighted by this new revelation.
“I doubt she’ll be trying that again any time soon,” he quips after a lengthy silence, repressed amusement in his voice. Perhaps he should mourn the bird’s death, should feel guilt that he had caused it. But he can’t seem to find it in himself. No, he only sees the panic growing in wild swells around her, the shock that would undoubtedly soon fade. And he’d rather distract her before it does. Before she accidentally turns that panic on him.
Reaching slowly towards her, he brushes a fleck of gold from her still invisible form (though he can’t be quite certain exactly where it had been resting on her). Then, turning into the depths of the cave, he steps forward until the soft light of his armor gleams off a gilded shell.
Peering silently at the nest for a moment, he huffs a breath out before turning to peer at where he had left Israfel, faint smile still lingering on the corners of his lips. “I think I have discovered why she was so ferocious.”
Israfel’s response to Reave’s quip is a quiet sob, her panic continuing to grow. Her golden eyes are focused on where the scattered remains of the bird have fallen and she jumps slightly when Reave reaches out to touch her, brushing some of those remains off of her neck. But then her guilt over jumping seeps into the panic and it helps to ground her a little more. It had only been because she was so focused on what she had done and not anything to do with him.
She had done that, hadn’t she? This was something she was capable of?
Her invisible head turns to watch him as he moves forwards into the cave - finding it much easier and vastly preferable to focus on his glowing form than anything else around them at that moment.
Until he turns to look at her and says something that chills her. She steps forward, filled with equal parts dread and curiosity until she can see the shell of the egg and then she stops, bumping her shoulder against Reave’s hip.
“I killed… a mom??” Comes her strangled question, a voice so soft it would have been lost on the slightest breeze.
She does not have to worry any longer about wanting to stay in this cave forever. She wants nothing more than to get out of here as fast as possible and back into the open sky of Nerine. Her panic begins to rise again but she manages to form some words around it “Can we help it?”
He can feel the moment her panic subsides into guilt, the memories of these last few minutes solidifying around her. Another of those pivotal instances. Another emotion that would forever be tied to his place and time. It should not please Reave to know it, to watch the way it settles. But Reave has never pretended to be anything but what he is. He would not pretend at grief he does not feel.
Perhaps it would have bothered him he hadn’t already seen death so many times before. If he hadn’t already felt death in the teeth and claws of monsters. In a way, the instantaneous death the bird had experienced is a mercy. She would have felt no pain. Probably wouldn’t even have known she was dying.
So he shares that with Israfel. It’s not often he shares his own emotions - his own memories - with another. He’s not even entirely sure why he does, other than that he feels almost compelled to do what he can to dispel her guilt. In that heartbeat of time, with them hip to shoulder in the dark, all the empathy he had failed to feel for the bird is given to her.
When her question stirs the stillness of the air around them, Reave peers curiously at the nest. After a moment, he lifts his gaze to the darkness, blue eyes fixing on the space where he knows her head would be. His lips twitch slightly as he replies with a wry question of his own, “Will you sit on it until it hatches?”
