"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
04-05-2015, 10:35 AM (This post was last modified: 04-05-2015, 11:00 AM by Fiasko.)
fiasko
Once more, she ventures out into the open.
A light dusting of snow covers the Gates, hiding what little remains of the damage done by the fires. The Mother Tree has done its best, but healing always takes time. At the moment though, the kingdom looks perfect. Like no tragedy or disaster has ever touched it.
If only that were so.
She walks delicately over the carpet of snow, ears alert and eyes peeled for any sign of her family. She hasn’t seen Finnley since the trip to the Falls, and Kaelie since the disaster itself. And she still hasn’t even met Camelia or Mast. She hopes they’re alright. They have to be alright.
She continues on deeper into the kingdom until she reaches the Mother Tree itself. It too appears to have recovered, though she knows there are scars hidden in the bark, like the burn scar that stretches across her back.
No one is in sight (and she cannot smell anyone nearby), so settles in to the shade of the Mother Tree and leans up against its trunk. Hopefully there is still someone left and they will be along soon.
04-07-2015, 03:59 PM (This post was last modified: 04-07-2015, 03:59 PM by Kaelie.)
come away o' human child
to the waters and the wild
The Gates has been quieter than usual after the disaster. Perhaps it had gone to sleep, so that when it awoke, everything would be right again. Perhaps the mother tree was simply tired from all the healing it has done. Perhaps they were all tired from trying to heal. Time and time again. The were quiet and few in number, they were burned and beaten. Most of Beqanna thinks nothing of the Gates and it’s inhabitants. They are weak, they are prey. But I know better. I know just how strong we really are.
But still, I know that I too am tired. That Camelia and Fin are tired. My girl, soon to be a mother herself, has left for a while to give birth, to spend some time with her first born before coming back to rule again. And I find that the crown sits again on my head, though I don’t feel its weight like before. It’s not really mine anymore, and there’s something still freeing in that. And perhaps it’s simply because I don’t mind filling in for my daughter, letting her get some well needed rest. That’s what mothers are for, aren’t they?
I’ve been wandering the Gates lately. There’s not much to do anyway. Finnley is off taking care of his own business, Camelia is gone. Mast has been quiet, but that is often the case with Camelia. It’s been just me and my thoughts lately; thoughts that sometimes drift to perhaps finally having another child. All my children are grown now, even the adopted ones. Perhaps it’s time for more. I may not have been much of a queen, but I think I’ve made at least a decent mother.
But today, I’m interrupted by the sight of Fiasko at the Mother Tree. It’s hard sometimes to see the tree still, to remember the fires and the charred earth and bark that the fires left behind. But still, we fared better than others did. At least we had the tree. I make my way over with a nicker and a smile, always glad to see my quietest child. “Fiasko,” I say warmly, reaching down to give her a gentle touch on the neck. “How are you?”
The snow is beginning to melt, and with its departure comes the emergence of new growth. Easter lillies poke through the ground, their green stalks reaching skywards and giving the promise of new color. The trees are starting to bud and flower. Hibernating animals are starting to emerge from their dens, thankful that the long winter has ended. All around them is new life, though perhaps none was as anticipated as the birth of the new prince. His birth is the promise that their kingdom will survive, will thrive eventually. It signifies the love on which their kingdom was built. Yes, he will enter a quiet kingdom but by no means a dead kingdom. They have a silent sort of strength, a quiet force in the hurricane winds around them.
Today, he is in the forest. He is inspecting the trees and is pleased to find them coming into this spring even better than they did the last. The forest is ripe with the scent of new life and promise. It’s a fresh scent, tinged with a hint of hyacinth flowers and honeysuckle vines. Spring rains have eliminated the most of the remaining snow, and the whole land feels cleansed. Camelia had slipped off, and though he had longed to follow, he decided to give her space. He knew without a doubt she’d never leave him without a good reason, and truth be told he’d be no good at giving child birth advice anyways. Her scent was still on the wind though, and it still smelled healthy and clean, as it should. So for now he would leave well enough alone, though he would not venture out of the kingdom until he knew for certain her and the child were perfectly ok. But now there is a new scent on the wind, though still somewhat familiar. He had smelled it before, though he’d never put a face to the scent. With a smile he follows it, noticing his mother’s was now lingering with the strangers. Finally, he reaches the duo, and he comes to a halt and dips his head in greeting. “Hello mother. Fiasko, was it? Pleasure to meet you. I’m Mast.” he said, a genuine smile lighting his handsome face.
The wildlife is still there - birds trill overhead, and small mammals rustle in the grass - but the horses … the horses are all but gone. Fiasko can still scent a few lone souls (her parents among them), but the kingdom is almost dead. Not that it had ever been a busy place, but now … now it’s particularly silent. The wildfires have hurt the kingdom to its very core. And yet it still limps on.
It seems like hours before any scents grow stronger, and luckily it is one of the scents that she knows well. Her distinct lopsided smile grows when Kaelie steps into view. She immediately steps away from the tree and returns the dark mare’s soft touch - a rare show of affection that has only ever been reserved for Kaelie and Finnley. “I’ve missed you.”
Her lone eye peers into her mother’s face, and she senses a weariness that had not been there before. “I’m alright, but what about you?” Fiasko hasn’t seen Kaelie or Finnley since the wildfires ripped through their home, and much time has passed since then. What’s happened to them in the time they’ve been apart?
The soft sound of approaching hoofbeats catches her attention, and her head swivels so that she can see the newcomer. Despite the fact that she’s never met him before, she recognizes him instantly. Fiasko’s been aware of her siblings for a while, but ever the coward, has not yet stepped out of the shadows to meet them. Though it has faded somewhat, her fear of rejection is still ever present.
“Oh, yes. I’m Fiasko. It’s nice to meet you finally.” Her eye travels uncomfortably to the ground, avoiding his gaze, before she reminds herself that she needs to stop being afraid. Mast is family, whether he knows it or not. But if he can’t handle the ruin that is her face, then he’s not worth her time.
i'm still waiting for the world to end
Basically I've been pretending that she's creeped on him and Camelia before, but been too scared to approach them and introduce herself. If that's not ok with you, I'm fine with changing it.
