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+---- Thread: [AW] in the back of my mind (/showthread.php?tid=4106)
in the back of my mind - Kalae - 10-06-2019
oh, how the ghost of you clings
It's sad.
When I think back to everything that has happened, my heart breaks into small pieces. It feels like I'm being pierced with every image of my losses that crosses in front of my eyes. I'm glad that I moved on, but a part of me aches for the herd I grew up with. The small grove that was huddled against the rocky cliffs with a view of the foamy ocean that greeted my every morning. The warmth coming from my family on cold nights and the comfort they brought when I cozied up to them. I even missed my sister right now. Even though I blamed her for what happened to my father, for his heartbreak, I still felt like I needed her. She is my twin, and the thought of her disappearance brought fresh tears to my eyes...
The image of standing over the ocean again drove her. To feel the wind and taste the salt, that is all she craved for in that moment. Her legs were achy and she sniffled from the remains of a cold. The journey was long, but she finally made it. It's been almost a year since she said goodbye to her whole world and started walking. She had met the most interesting figures as she traveled from one land to another. The things she has seen and experienced. The world she came from was magical, but it was nothing compared to the enchanting things that she witnessed. Creatures she has never even heard of before. Giant, scaled lizards that dominated the sky and rained down fire with every breath. Elusive sea monsters that glowed brightly in the depths of the saltwater they called home. Beings that were more god-like then mortal.
She experienced fear and happiness, horror and love. She heard folktales and danced in squares, spent stolen moments in the shadows with handsome strangers. All in all, she had a busy year.
Still, she was alone.
She made friends, sure, but no one compares to the family that she missed. She still searched for her sister everywhere she wandered. Now, she almost had given up hope. Will she ever find Kamea?
She had come to this realm with the hope to finally start her own life. Sure, the past year had been hers, and the memories are fresh in her mind, but she was on a mission then. Now, she wants to start to forget her past and her pain. Now is her time. She had chosen this court for their values and kindness. It was everything she felt in her own heart. The honesty and the simplicity that was shared to her was warm and inviting, and even though she had never felt the pull of religion, the ideology of Vespera had seduced her. She wanted to learn more about this world, and the people who called it home. They are her new family now.
At this moment, she had hiked to the precipice of the cliffs. The winding trail was steep and rocky, and her small frame felt the tiredness that it beat into her. But, as she peered into the distance, it was all worth it. Her entire journey and her exhaustion melted away as the spray of salt and misty air blew into her. The day was almost at a close, and the sky had lit up in a fantasy of purples and reds. Wispy clouds moved across the sky and gulls called out. Waves could be heard crashing below where she stood. And a peace flooded her heart and emptied her mind. Her eyes closed, and a deep sigh expanded her lungs and released a pent up tension she didn't know was there.
This is what I needed. The smell of salt and foam washed away my anxiety and fears. With my eyes closed, it was almost like I was back home. I could almost hear the sweet sounds of my mother calling me for dinner. My father laughing as he played with my sister...and Kamea...her quiet voice telling me to save her from the pretend monsters. Even though she was older by almost thirty minutes, she would always let me be the knight in shining armor. I was the rescuer because I was stronger. I have this pain and hatred in my heart, Sister. But God, how I miss you.
i wish i could say everything i've done and still be loved.
Marisol knows what loneliness looks like.
What it feels like, too, of course. But especially what it looks like: how to pick it out of someone, in the particularly sad slope of their shoulders or the way they turn their eyes down. She’s looked like that many a time. She’s sure she looks like it now—downtrodden, at least—as she peers down over the edge of the cliff and tries not to think about Asterion.
Not old yet.
And still he’s gone. Gone and gone and gone, the starlight of his skin and the moonlight of his eyes. Not old yet. And how long had it been since that day by the ocean when they raced like children over the salt? Cirrus had wheeled overhead, she remembers, and how they’d talked about the—
About the sea horses. Now Marisol’s jaw clenches when she thinks of them, and the salt in her blood sings with rage. The ropes of muscle in her body tense into so many net-knots. The white-cold wind and the smell of the ocean burst up to sting her lips and nostrils, and suddenly she’s alive again, bright-eyed and awake and striding toward the figure on the edge of the cliffs.
She cuts a striking figure, this stranger with the bristling spines and skin the prettiest colors of deep water. Mari smooths her wings to her sides and carefully brushes down the bristling parts of her mane. The sky overhead is warm now with the setting sun, rippled in shades of pink and orange and deep, moody purple; wisps of clouds float where the horizon meets the sea.
In a voice sweet as bells, dark as the ocean, Marisol calls out: “By her Hand.” A pause; she steps closer. Now the space between them is negligible, but she’s careful not to overstep her boundaries—kept her shoulders squared and eyes turned purposefully toward the tides. “You’re new.”
You know the feeling of meditation? When time slips away and your not sure how much of it has passed? I know the feeling. The world had slipped away with each deep breath I take, a calm slowing my nervous heart. There is so much I want to do, and so much I need to let go of. The betrayal in my heart is heavy, and it takes so much out of me that sometimes I wonder how much more of me I have left to give. But, I need to keep going. I need to push through the pain and make myself stronger, not only for me, but for their memories. If my mother saw me, standing here on the edge of the cliff with tears brimming my eyes, what would she think? Well, she would definitely tell me to back away from the ledge. She would mistake my standing here for something more...sinister. I'm not going to jump Mama. But I need the salt and the threat of the fall to help me fly.
Her eyes squinted open, their deep, pale blue reflecting the gold and pinks of the dusk sky. It was this time of the day when her aurora hide really shone, it's colors swirling and melding into a abstract painting of the finest design. Even her tangled locks flowed freely, the loose waves cascading over her in a silky blanket of violet and teal. In this moment, she felt beautiful. She knew she was pleasant to look at, but even her inner self, the critical and sarcastic being that dwelled deep under her skin, was beautiful. And that was new for her. Her self awareness and realization that it's okay to be mad somehow made her feel better. Inside, her heart was still in a thousand pieces and her mind was still thinking of the angry words she would throw at her sister, and that is okay.
She couldn't have been standing for very long. The sun had barely gone down in the sky, and the same birds circled the sky over the sea, calling out to each other. Her lips turned up at the corners, watching the flocks as they descended and started to settle in the crags of the rocks. Everyone had someone. She started to turn, when a figure clad in dark shades of black and amber caught her attention. She turned back towards the view of the sea, wondering if they had noticed her...noticed her sadness. Her sensitive ears flicked back, listening to the stranger's steps as they drew closer. So, they had noticed her.
A voice made her start, her head and shoulders straightening while the bony bristles that are usually limp hardened. Kalae called it the porcupine effect. When all is well, the growths that had pierced her skin so long ago were laid flat against her spine and hips. They were harmless in this state, the points feeling dull to her as they swished against her skin as she moved. But, at moments when she is startled, or under attack, they straighten. The spines weren't overly long, but they become useful in defense when she needed them. The points are suddenly sharp, the white tips gleaming threateningly at whoever had caused them to awaken. She didn't really have much control over them. It seemed like they responded to jolts of adrenaline.
They were close now, standing next to her and sharing the illustration of the sea and sky. They...no, she...declared Kalae's fresh presence to the realm, forming her words as a statement rather then a question. The stranger didn't look at her, didn't seem to noticed Kalae's startled form. She just...stood there with her. It was almost comforting. There were no questions about where she came from or why Kalae wiped dried tears from her cheeks. Kalae nodded, stealing a glance at her company.
Envy filled her as she looked over the mare. She was tall and stunning, her presence firm and stoic. Not a speck of dirt could be seen on her dark skin, and her mane was trimmed to perfection. It almost made Kalae look wild, with her tangled strands and sweat covered hide. Her eyes glazed over the enormous wings that were folded against the strangers sides, and suddenly Kalae was filled with questions. Do they work? What was it like to fly, to be able to soar above the pain and the problems? Did she dare ask? An almost childish glee filled her, but she kept her questions quiet.
A sigh swelled her lungs and parted her lips. Should she stand here with this commanding presence, just enjoying the silence? She debated for a minute before turning towards the other mare, bowing her features slightly, praying her spines would start to lower. "I've just arrived. I'm Kalae. It's a pleasure..." Her voice trailed off, unsure what to call the mare. Miss seemed to informal. Mad'am was more like it, but she wasn't sure it would offend the stranger. Once, she had called an elderly mare Mad'am, and they flushed red and told her not to call them that. Her first impression of her new home started with this mare, and she wanted to make the right one. She straightened, conscience not to slouch and offered a small smile.
First meeting. Ok, Kalae, you've got this. Forget your sadness and just be yourself. Easy, I think. I mean, I've always portrayed myself as easy going and fun. No need to delve into my true feeling right now. I don't want this mare to think I'm crazy or I have heavy baggage. No one wants a sour puss. Besides, this lady here probably doesn't want to hear my inner thoughts. Heck, I didn't want to hear them. So, shove them back and smile girly. What do I always say? I'm strong, and I've got this.
i wish i could say everything i've done and still be loved.
If Marisol is intimidated by the bristly rise of the girl’s spines, she doesn’t show it—instead an intrigued kind of surprise pushes up her dark brows, and she regards the stranger with a new interest, perhaps more watchful than she was a moment ago. Still her eyes are cool and her stance is soft. No reason to start trouble yet, not without proof there’s some coming.
Instead she keeps her eyes turned to the horizon. Often Marisol has wished for more moments like these, in sweet silence and the pleasure of a pretty sunset. Calmer than the rest of her life by a significant measure. She inhales—a deep breath that smells like salt and white foam—and exhales, a burning kind of warmth that winds through all her muscles, pleasant as soreness. Birds click and wheel through the cloudy sky, and Mari watches with envy. And again, unbidden, she thinks of Cirrus.
What happened to her? She must have gone with Asterion, wherever he’d fled, or the inverse was too sick to think of. Or, or—if they were lucky, if Mari deserved it—there was a chance, was there not, that she was still here, fit to one of those birds in their flocks, her worries and responsibilities totally forgotten?
If they were lucky. Mari squints at the fluttering wings in the distance, but they’re too far away and packed too close together to make out anything useful.
At last she turns her gaze to meet Kalae’s, and lets the stoniness in her face fall away to be replaced by a faint, warm smile: she’s careful not to let her eyes rest too long on the wildness of the stranger’s hair or the salt-cured colors of her skin shifting to match the brightness of the horizon.
“Marisol,” she offers, and tries to keep the tightness of ritual from entering her voice. “Pleased to meet you. If I can ask—what brought you here, Kalae?’
She tries not to think too hard of Ard and Erd and the last time they opened their arms to a stranger; she tries not to think of Lysander and Reichenbach, and how many bones might’ve been broken on the night that a shadow became a man.
Oh, boy. This lady makes my stomach flutter. Marisol...I've heard that name. Where have I heard that name...?
She let out a long breath, unsure of how long she had been holding it. Barely a few seconds but the time spent looking at the tall mare before she looked back seemed to drag on forever. Pleasant introductions were exchanged as she introduced herself. Marisol is a pretty name, and vaguely familiar, although Kalae wasn't sure where she had heard it. She tried racking her brain to make herself remember, casting her gaze downward in attempt to squeeze the memory out, but it didn't work. Of course it didn't. As of late, it seemed like her normal intelligence has dwindled. She was probably just exhausted, but it seemed like the further away she wandered from home, the more clumsy she became.
Her smile faltered with the question presented to her. Why is she here? The most honest answer was to escape her pain, start over and if she had managed to find her twin, to punch her in her face. Or, rather, kick her in her face. That answer almost spilled out of her. She just wanted to vent to someone, to let go of all of her frustration in one go and scream. But, that wasn't ladylike. It's not proper to scream and cry and tell strangers about just how broken she felt inside. Instead, she tossed her locks from her eyes and put on a brave face. "I'm, uh, looking for something new. Something exciting, though I'm not sure what it is yet. All I know is, I've been travelling a lot lately and I haven't been very stable. I'm going to change that."
There, that was strong sounding wasn't it? I'm a rough and go adventurer who is ready to lay down some roots and I'm going to reach my goals despite any obstacle in my way. God, I hope that is how I am coming across...Just don't cry, Kalae. This...Marisol...doesn't know about Kamea and probably doesn't care. Keep it to yourself for now and just play it cool.
She cleared her throat, choking down a fresh wave of loneliness. At least her spines seemed to have simmered down. She cast a glance backwards, shifting slightly to hide them as they slowly deflated. It is sometimes embarrassing when they pop up. She was always easy to startle and they put on quite the show when she was younger. "Plus, I've heard really interesting things about this place. Not just this court, but this whole...world. It's different then where I'm from. Sure, we had different tribes, but no one from there is quite like the people I've met here. Different courts built around different Gods. Its fascinating. I hope I can fit in. Just got to keep telling myself that I can do it." Kalae's expression became determined. She will make it here. Kalae is a proud girl, and her perseverance was showing as she declared herself in front of this woman, this part of her new life.
@Marisol excuse her as she rambles. part of her charm :*
i wish i could say everything i've done and still be loved.
So often Marisol forgets there is life outside Novus, even outside Terrastella. Since her rough-and-tumble days as that kid with the scars, that girl with the spear, she has always been one-track-minded. No room for loyalty outside to her court. No room for gods that are not Vespera.
So a mild surprise overcomes her, though it shouldn’t, as the girl starts to talk about her home. (Perhaps part of it is that Kalae looks like one of them. Marisol would not have been surprised to see her emerge from the Terminus in the way of any Novus-born kelpie, or appear like a statue from the base of Veneror itself, like that fall when the gods came down to visit.)
Which possibility is more frightening—that those beyond the border are not like them, or that they are exactly the same?
Mari purses her lips and blows out a harsh breath through her nostrils, trying to turn her focus away from where it rests on suspicion. She tells herself there is nothing to be scared of from one strange girl; she tells herself that even if there is, she has no evidence, not yet.
“Novus has welcomed plenty of strangers,” says Marisol finally, and twists her lips into an awkward (though genuine) smile, her gaze blinking first at Kalae and then back out to the ocean. Still the birds are wheeling in the sky just past them; their caws and cackle sing sharp through the air, colder, really, than any breeze. “You’ll do fine, Kalae. We worship Vespera here, and she is a benevolent god—” Her voice is confident, unwavering, but oh does she think of the earthquakes and the broken temples and how Asterion had laughed when she wanted to bless him.
Finally she turns back to look at Kalae and tilts her had with a sheepish grin. “But we are also a land of freedom, and you’re free to worship whatever you please, or nothing at all. I would be happy to show you around. And tell you more if you’d like. There’s…” Mari sighs. “Been a lot of change, recently.”