"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
you're waiting for me to fail, that ship will never sail
His first memories were of the bitter cold and his mothers harsh voice. She was not overly maternal but he didn’t do without, even in the unyielding lands they called home. She told him that his father lived here but they had never crossed paths, his mother keeping him hidden more often than not. Despite her gruffness she was proud of her bay son, with his black downy wings and fine features. He was a child worthy of the bloodlines he carried, worthy of the land he would call home. Because of his raising he had been a stoic child, a trait that had carried even more so into his young adult life. His temper ran like lava; hot and unyielding, but easy to avoid if one read the warnings. It did not flare suddenly or run rampant like wild-fire. Nothing he did involved much fanfare, at least not up to this point. Up until now he had simply been existing- now was the time for him to start living.
Mother had left almost a year ago, leaving Brison behind to brave the harshness of the Tundra. The bay had done an immense amount of growing, both physically and mentally, in a short amount of time. He was certainly better for those experiences, and he was coming into his own with his eyes wide open. Though he was still stoic, he was learning a sense of loyalty that his mother had never taught him. He was quickly learning that the Tundra held that new-found loyalty. There was something about the place that called to him. Perhaps it was the overall ruggedness of the place, or the unyielding harshness. Only the strong and the fit would survive here, and he had proven himself to be just that. The kingdom had pushed him and pulled from him more than he had ever known he even had to give. It was high time for him to start repaying that debt.
Standing with his face to the north, the bitter breeze lifting his mane from his neck and ruffling the glossy black feathers of his wings, he called to them. To the king, to the brothers. At his side stood a skeletal snow leopard. It did not snarl or growl, but simply stood, the bones being manipulated by Brison himself. It was not there to bolster his own confidence, but rather to show the king and brothers what he had to offer to the kingdom. As the wind continued to blow he continued to wait, stoic as he always was. But beneath that carefully lacquered exterior was a tinge of excitement.
brison
winged, immortal, bone-bending son of brennen and bitch
when you fall I'll be the only one who looks away; when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
Silence had long since settled into the quiet, unyielding plain of the icy kingdom. The land had its own allure, with sparsely scattered wildflowers blossoming in the early birthing of spring, dried brush and warm gusts in the midst of summer and eventually the familiar, icy embrace and blanket of snow that followed in the winter. It was enthralling, dull and altogether unusual, and yet nonetheless, it was a place of solace and comfort for many. Offspring had grown immensely fond of its every nook, cranny and nuance, fiercely devoted to seeing it flourish and soothed by its isolation. He often lingered in the icy flurries that fell down from a downy, dark sky, allowing their soft flakes of frost to tangled themselves into his matted locks of hair and melt along the warmth of his skin.
He savored the cold and had allowed it to seep deep into his bones, penetrating his flesh and immersing itself into his core. Bestowed the gift of ice, he had developed a new, invigorated perspective of its beauty, complexity and strength. He never would doubt again the prowess and danger behind it, nor the power he had been trusted by the ruins to yield. He remained alone himself at times, drawing away from his brothers, hiding away from his love and children for hours at a time. He would breathe deeply, exhaling an icy, frosty breath, slowly refining and perfecting his ability to form and create ice with only a wistful thought. He was beginning to explore the depths of his new found power, eager to experience its worth and understand its boundaries.
He grew tired, though, and it withheld much of his strength from him. In the hours preceding his immense efforts, he was weak, weary and it was within these moments of solace that he would stand in the midst of an empty plain and soak in every fragment of ice and every misshapen rock that formed his kingdom. He admired its jagged edges and arctic sheen and allowed himself to sink into the lull of silence; allowed himself to rest.
Mere minutes had passed when he'd heard the call of another - a male, undoubtedly, and one that sounded unfamilar. With a furrowed brow, he stirred from the shadows and pressed forward to seek out the source. His muscles ached slightly, but still rolled beneath his dark pelt, which was littered with icy flakes that had clung to his numb skin. He trudged up along the hillside, his dark crimson eyes peering ahead, observing the figure that loomed above. With a bloody bronzed pelt, thick black wings and fiery, excited eyes, he was an intriguing sight - but not as unfamiliar as Offspring had previously assumed.
In fact, he could recall the young face from many months back - a lurker in the midst of their quiet home; a stalker of the shadows and a secret of the hills. He had remained as hidden away as he himself had for so long, yet was nonetheless a resident and was of no discomforting sight to Offspring. He moved closer to him, his massive stature settling in front of him as his eyes bored into him and then the animated mass of bones and skin at his side, manipulated by the unseen strings of its puppeteer.
With a faint smirk at the corner of his lips, he glanced again to Brison, his own stoic features breaking with amusement.
"It is good to see you come out of the shadows; I have waited. I am Offspring. What is your name?" His gaze dropped again, admiring his handywork, curious as to its source and of the profoundness of his power. "You've piqued my curiosity. How are you doing that?"
you're waiting for me to fail, that ship will never sail
He had long since become accustomed to the silence. It was comforting in a way, and he found it easier to concentrate on his own thoughts. It had been on the silent ridges that he had learned to fly. Flying came as natural to him as walking did to others, and he spent many an idle hour careening across the clear blue sky. Mother, being winged herself, had insisted on near perfection in his flight. Now that he was nearing his fifth year, he had nearly achieved that perfection. The birds knew to move when the handsome bay was soaring amongst them, lest they be caught in his tailwind.
Near the caves he had honed his bone bending skill, gradually moving up to larger and larger skeletons as he perfected the useful skill. Skeletons were easy to find here; the harshness of the Tundra was not for every creature, and more often than not they quickly perished. Often times he had wondered about whether his ability could be used on living bones, though he had never had the opportunity to try. He imagined that it would be painful, and up to this point of his life he had had no reason to hurt another horse.
The king did not take long to find him. Brison had expected that. A kingdom was only as good as the horse who wore the proverbial crown, and no king worth his salt would let a strange call go unanswered. Whether he went to investigate himself or sent one of his trusted men, either way the intruder would be examined. Brison wasn’t an intruder per say, but he had largely remained hidden up until now. Dipping his bay head Brison returned the greeting, his honeyed eyes warm despite the frigid surroundings. “Offspring. I am Brison, former shadow lurker and hopeful new…recruit.” he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his black lips. The kings gaze fell to the bone creature at his side, and Brison nodded absent mindedly. “Funny thing, this. I can manipulate bones. Big bones, little bones…doesn’t matter. I’ve only practiced on skeletons of those passed on, but I suspect I can manipulate the bones of the living as well.” With a look of concentration he turned back to his snow leopard, which lurched forward jerkily, the skull flopping a bit on the spine. Without the tendons and muscles to support it, it was ungainly at best but still it stepped forward. Furrowing his brow deeper he pulled mentally, and the whole thing shattered to pieces; the hips were pulled from their sockets, the spine bowing before breaking in half with an eerie crack. “But that’s not why I ventured down from the hills. I’d like to pledge myself to the kingdom, and be used in whatever capacity they need me most.” he said, returning his stoic gaze to the black draft. Relaxing his wings at his sides he waited; that’s all there was to do now.
brison
winged, immortal, bone-bending son of brennen and bitch
when you fall I'll be the only one who looks away; when you call I'll be the first to tell you I can't stay.
He watched with invested interest as the winged male began to manipulated the individual bones of the dead, decomposing creature beside him. There was something inexplicably morbid about it, and yet in the back of his mind, he found himself thinking of the many useful ways such a powerful gift could be used. He was not a man of violence - he preferred conversation to outright confrontation, but his marred pelt of puckered pink scars against their obsidian backdrop told a tale that would take an entire lifetime to tell. He had fought, and he had won - and he had lost. Though he now possessed prowess and control over ice, it would be a short lived fragment of his genetic make-up - it would fade away and melt with the summer sun, when his reign ended and he descended into the shadows.
Such could not be said for the bone-bending stallion before him. It was likely a gift that had been bestowed upon him at birth, and with practice and diligence, he had mastered it. While it was remarkable and intriguing to see him so easily manipulate the thick, drying bones of another creature, there was a deeper, darker part of him, too, that wondered how it might affect the living.
In the event of another blazing, catastrophic war, such a skill would be needed in the defense of their homeland, of their men - women - children. His searing red eyes peer again into those warm, honeyed eyes of the individual before him, studying him for a long moment though the stoicism had waned. A faint smirk pulled at the corner of his whiskered lips as the snow leopard shifted again forward; a representation of how he had managed to hone in his skills expertly.
"Interesting," He muses softly at the conclusion of his explanation. Big bones, little bones - and yet Offspring, in all of his observational glory - had failed to noticed the bay boy practicing with the varied dead that inevitably suffered at the hand of the harsh, cold forces of their flatland. "and it would be curious to find if that is indeed true. Though I appreciate your reluctance to openly attempt it without provocation." He finishes with a low chuckle that reverberates in the depths of his chest as his ears flick and twist at the top of his massive skull.
"Very good, Brison - the Kingdom, and I, accept. It is good to see you join us; the Brotherhood is in need of men and with qualities like your own -" (winged, bone-bending and lacking the sociopathic tendencies that could inevitably come with such a skill) "- this is welcome news. We are in need in areas of diplomacy and military but admittedly with your attributes, the military has the most need. But first - you must be aware that you must first enter the caves to enter this Brotherhood. In it lives your deepest fears and innermost demons - only the strongest of mind, wit and virtue emerge unscathed. Is this a venture you would be willing to take on?"
