i am the fire
i am burning brighter
roaring like a storm
Morrighan was lost in thought as she came upon the lake. Images of the war back in her homeland flashed through her mind. The swirling vortex of the flames that usually consumed her body was absent and she had never felt so cold.
Perhaps this was a punishment by her own gods, although she had never believed much in them before. That may be the very reason she was stuck here because she had been so consumed in the battle. Well, screw them. They clearly were of no help and it wasn't looking like she would be able to go back any time soon. It seemed the gods here were more tangible beings, so maybe she could get in their good graces.
Her fire. The mare craved it - the warmth, power and overall control. She was more with it. Now she was a mere mortal stuck in this unknown world with its own quarrels and tragedies she wasn't entirely interested in. Though, with the recent disappearance of her court's queen, it was beginning to become her problem. At least, if she wanted to continue having a home it would.
It wasn't something Morrighan would like to admit yet, but she was starting to grow fond of the Night Court. They were not the kingdom she grew up with and fought side by side with, but they were a decent group of equines. She supposed if this was it, it could be a little worse.
At least she had her solitude. As she looked out at the vast expanse of water, she observed each ripple that marked the surface. Life still went on (somehow) and so, she would too. Unlike many, she was resilient, she just had to… figure out how things worked around here. And figure out how to get my magic back… She knew magic existed here, but not quite how to wield it yet. Hopefully the secret could be uncovered soon.
had my head in the clouds never knowing what lies below
T
he lake is for more than reflections. It is a pool of memories that will drown whoever dares to look too close, to try and glean knowledge from the past... Oh, but today it is merely a pool of water, a mirror to show her all the lies he thought that she was. Here... There is an air of serenity, tranquility holding fast to the pristine surface to hide the turmoil below. In her heart, a matching storm brews, just as deadly and just as troubling as that mirrored lake.
Below, rocks crunch together underfoot, adding to the soft cooing of chickadees in the brush, the rustling of rabbits as they flee for safer grounds. (Or was this the safest spot they could find, hoping that it would treat them well enough until whatever that is to come comes...and then goes just as quickly? Or perhaps it is the tiger prowling close behind, never far from the winged woman save for on that night.) It troubles her, not knowing. Up until now, there is so much Moira has known - how to heal and how to hurt, how to fix what is broken and mend nearly anything. Oh, but how does a girl too afraid of all that she is, a phoenix still unsure of burning, fix a court, a nation, a single crime?
Were it anyone but him, perhaps it would be easier.
On these strange shores Moira first met Raum. The silver man had not seemed so awful then, with his smoky voice that matches the darkness, the softness, the silk in her own. He was the first to ever speak to her within this court - within this world even. The first that made her think past the numbness, the lost girl that she was floundering for a home outside of the only house she'd ever known. Was his statement alluding to all that he would become, or was the Ghost just as unaware of all the devastation he would cause as she at the time?
So many unanswered questions.
Golden eyes are late to take note of the woman at the shore. Were she a snake, the Emissary would surely be dead. Turpentine emotions dissipate, spread thin over the surface of the rippling lake, as she sees the familiar face. Not as familiar as it should be, but enough that the winged woman is unafraid as she approaches. Red on grey. Warm on cool. A volcano ready to erupt, simmering, smoking, but cooled by the blue of those eyes that she seeks. Brought back to earth by the tones of sand and smoke and rich soil that ground her in the moment. Morrighan reminds her of Isra, of Asterion, of Eik. Reminds her of them in all but personality. Words from the meeting echoing back, making her grin despite the trouble that rests on her brow. "You offered to fight for us," Moira starts. Her voice is a slow song, a gentle caress as smooth as the lake's surface near them. She is the Acting Sovereign, encouraging and gentle and flaming all at once.
But she cannot compare to the fiery soul of the mare before her. The flame-heart that beats within Morrighan's breast is surely so much more prone to these violent delights than the healer who wants only the best for their court. She almost regrets asking them to rise up, imploring that they fight to find their queen, to bring Isra home where she belongs. Almost, but not quite, for the Tonnerre child is as a smile, given with heavy consideration and all of her heart, there is nothing she would not do for Isra, for the other half of her heart. A slight growl behind makes Moira chuckle, Neerja's displeasure at that thought as clear as the day. "I don't think we've officially met, I am Moira Tonnerre, he-" eyes go wide for a moment before she grins, embarrassment staining crimson face even darker a shade. "Emissary of Denocte, but I will always be a healer to any who need. Are you from these lands? What else is she to ask if not for a name? How better, she wonders, to learn of another but from where they come. After all, if you dig deep enough into her own family, you'll learn just why she shies at the thought of love, flinches when flames come to near her body, why she cannot yet lift her wings with such confidence and bravado as before on a regular basis... Why she feels as useless as a broken branch, barely dangling from the limb to which it desperately clings.
@Morrighan | "speaks" | notes: I apologize for how late this reply is ! ;o; also note Neerja (mo's bonded) is also present just chilling behind her with brows raised
i am the fire
i am burning brighter
roaring like a storm
The sound of hoofprints made her ear twitch and she turned her head. A winged mare approached her by the lake and Morrighan recognized the one who recently called the meeting - the emissary, or something? She made a comment about joining the fight and Morrighan's lips formed a slight smirk.
"Yeah, may as well," she replied nonchalantly. In truth, part of it was the thrill of the fight. Although, it was much more exciting when she actually had a weapon. "It's for a good cause after all."
Another movement caught her eye and by the mare's side was a tiger who didn't seem very impressed. Right, many of the equines around here had animal familiars. It was still something she wasn't completely used to.
The woman introduced herself officially - Moira - a pretty name, she had to admit. Then the question was posed about whether or not Morrighan was from around here and she felt her jaw clench.
"No, I'm not. I'm… well let's say from very far away," she explained, avoiding the fact that she didn't even know how she got here or the distance from here to Ourania. Her tone did not hide the bitterness she still felt about the situation.
"Morrighan Ciardha," she added simply, her eyes falling back onto the tiger. "And your friend there?"
A plop sound could be heard a little ways away in the lake and she looked over just in time to see a flash of a fin. Likely from a fish or something coming up to the surface. It was just enough to distract her before the idea of war came back to mind.
"Any leads on Isra's whereabouts? Or the guy who took her?"
it's such a shame, the ones who died without a name
E
ven though the words are casual, nonchalant, the way that Morrighan talks of a good cause as though it is a reason to join a people you hardly know makes the phoenix' heart turn. It somersaults and rolls, it draws a smile to her face that is earnest and true. Nothing could make her more proud that those within these walls, the spirit that lives within them all as wily and sharp and lovely as any she ever knew before.
They are what makes the world magic.
Her troubles seem to be shed like a snakeskin, slipping into the ground, into the dirt, finding their way to the molten core where they sizzle and burn up into ash and magma dust until it is time to don a new cape of worry and stress. That time is not now, not yet, when there is dissonance staining the wind in reds and browns and greens. How could she smile at the weightlessness when this woman holds such a burden within? Carefully, honeyed gaze looks down to Neerja with a gentle sigh, a gentle smile. "Nor am I, my home is far away now, a distant memory in a distant land... But you never really forget, how can you? Neerja is from the jungles here, she found me... She saved me." And the confession is easier than breathing, easier than swimming or drawing or moving. There is a soft rumble from the tiger in question, a loud purr erupting more quickly than a volcano.
The two share a look, one only they can read, and their jungle song plays endlessly between them in arches of love and loops of devotion. If Isra is more than blood, more than love, then Neerja and her will transcend time itself, will write their story in the stars of that sacred bond between them.
When their eyes part, there is no judgement left written in the tiger's eyes. She's moved closer to her phoenix fire, shoulder to shoulder they stand just barely different in height. And those golden eyes follow every curving line, every slight movement, that this woman of cream and gold makes.
"Raum… He was one of ours, once; a part of our court of dreamers. Perhaps nightmares devoured his light, perhaps there is more we don't know. Our people are out, our nightingales in the wind to bring back any morsels left out to pick at. Patience is the key to any tactical maneuver and plan. We will find Isra and we will bring her home, Morrighan Ciardha. I'm curious," she pauses, looking to the fish that flies as the phoenix cannot, wondering what it feels like to soar as they do. "What role do you wish to play in the storm to come?" And it is the acting sovereign who now looks upon Morr, not a healer, not an emissary, but a living flame to light her path wherever it may lead.
@Morrighan | "speaks" | notes: your words are absolutely beautiful ! <3
i am the fire
i am burning brighter
roaring like a storm
Her ears twitched at the words Moira spoke. It drew her out of her sulking for a moment and Morrighan found herself more intrigued. Since arriving here, she thought she was the only one to have been oddly transported to another world. Apparently that had been false, but now the real question will be if this woman was also from Ourania or not.
Turning to the tiger, the creature seemed a little less menacing as Moira explained how they saved her. In response, the feline began to purr loudly. Companions were still an interesting concept to the mare, but it was clear there was a deeper connection that she could not see.
"I see… Are you from Ourania too?" she asked, quickly realizing just how heavy the question was for her. Her limbs began to tremble slightly and she had to contain herself. Why was she getting so worked up over this? Perhaps because she was possibly one step closer to finding out what happened to her. Whether she'd be any closer to finding out how to get back was not clear.
Then came the story of the man causing all the chaos. Apparently he used to be one of them. She could see the fire in Moira's eyes and the determination in her tone. She was ready for war and to bring their leader back. Morrighan wasn't ready for the equally heavy question thrown at her.
After a few moments of contemplation, the mare replied, standing strong. "I will fight as a soldier. As I was trained to do in my kingdom. We were strong, but we were no dictators." At least, among their own kind. The wolves were an entirely different story.
Circling back to Raum's origin, she had to stifle a laugh. "You guys must have really pissed him off, huh?" She asked with sarcasm, although truly wondering just why the man was so angry.
Maybe he lost something too, Morrighan thought to herself. The loss of her magic and immortality and being thrown to another world certainly gave her reason to be angry. He too must have a reason.
etween them, the air shifts as the cosmos stare down; the world becomes sharper, her attention more focused on the way Morrighan comes to attention. She is alert - a hound on the trail of its prey. On the edge of her seat, there is a tremor under her skin, an excitement and fear bubbling and boiling and brewing thicker and thicker into a stew that could turn sour if the phoenix says the wrong thing.
She is careful to measure her words, mulling them over as golden eyes return to the waters rippling with the jumping of rainbow trout that shimmer and laugh as they fly. They are wholly creatures of their own, in their own world of sorts beneath calm surfaces and waves. "No," the phoenix says at last. There is a pregnant pause between them as she stares and stares at the past flashing closer and closer every time her eyes close. "I am from the Oakheart country, my family owns a great estate there. The Tonnerre Estate is sprawling and vast and could be a small fiefdom itself. We are neighbors to a people with wings like mine who live on floating masses of land where only those who can fly can reach them. I am sorry that I am not from your Ourania." Such a foreign name rolls off her tongue as something exotic - as exotic as Morrighan with her tempered beauty and steady voice.
Neerja rumbles between the woman, tasting the warriors sweat on the air, the feel of her thoughts heavy between them. With a look at her winged cub, she huffs and slips to the other's shoulder. Whiskers tickle Morr's side and she pushes her gently. There is no threat, no quick movements to incur wrath and anger and panic. Only a tigress pushing her cub to smile, bringing her into a fold of women who will be strong when they grow and learnt o hunt.
Moira watches at last, smiles when she sees her tiger's antics. This one is serious, almost worse than you, Neerja rumbles with a pointed look to her winged cub. Laughter at last spills out; dark and soft as a drop of ink dispersing in water. It dies as quickly when they round the conversation back to the knife that slit Acton's throat.
A dictator...
"You will be a welcome face for our warriors. Your heart is strong and you are brave, perhaps someday you could teach me to spar. Raum… When I met him he seemed full of storms and trouble, there are problems from before I knew him that have likely come to the surface." And she does not know how to say that the healer in her does not want to spill his blood.
While the phoenix is not invested in his life and would watch him hang from the gallows if that is what must be done, she does not wish to take a life that is not ready to end. What went missing in his heart to push him to such extremes and terror?
Your family did worse, Neerja reminds her quietly as she settles near Moira once again, inspection and tickling complete.
@Morrighan | "speaks" | notes: neerja def just tickled morr i'm laughing so hard on the inside
i am the fire
i am burning brighter
roaring like a storm
"No."
And just like that, she snapped out of it. The eagerness she felt disappeared and she was back where she started. Alone and confused in this strange world with no connection to home.
Moira spoke of her home and her people- just as foreign sounding as anything among Novus. However, it sounded like she too left somewhere much greater. When the woman apologized for not being from Ourania, Morrighan shook her head, brushing it off. It was a silly thing for her to get her hopes up for. The chances were slim to none of her running into anyone else from her land.
Then suddenly, Moira's strange companion came over to Morrighan. The mare slunk back as the feline approached, feeling unsure of what they were doing. She started to touch her- was it out of affection? Whatever it was, the feeling was uncomfortable and made her pin her ears back. If she were a wolf, she would quickly curl her lips into a warning snarl. As an equine, all she could do was raise her head and the whites of her eyes became visible.
"Do not touch me ever again, cat," she demanded, voice low. Regardless of the feline's intentions, no one dared ever touch her and she would gladly kill anyone who tried. If this creature was not bonded to Moira, she would consider the thought more. She forced herself to settle down when the other mare began to speak again.
"Indeed," she replied, giving a quick look over Moira's stature. Battle was in her blood, but she had become so used to her fire joining her in her fights. Perhaps a spar would be just what she needed to get herself back into shape. "Challenge accepted."
And then there was Raum. It sounded like he was a shitty individual and they would certainly need all the warriors they could find to fight him off. "Well, he sounds like an asshole. I'll have no sympathy if he burns," she said simply.
Burns. Well, that would be much easier with her fire magic present. Maybe by the time she would have to face him, she would've figured out a way to restore it.
