Dreams are full of wishes and nightmares are full of truths; eyes that do not see watch as stars fall and birds plummet, see burnt wings and flesh ripped from bone. Honeyed gaze drifts lazily over plains of fire under a full moon, watch as the feathers float on the wind as though they are not headed for disaster. This is a world where she knows it is not real, is not happening about her, but she does not mind the reprieve. Such a long trip was required to reach the Plains.
So Moira settles deeper into the blissful throes of slumber, letting events unfold and reality warp about her once more.
It is when butterflies peck at her back that she begins to move, skin withdrawing to that area, bunching up where the stick prods like lightning upon her spine. Brows furrow, an unintelligible mumbling given new life, and slowly she rises as though from the grave. At first it is slow, a single eye cracking open to glare at the twins who stare and stare and stare as though she is that girl again, the abomination in her house who had wings and dared wear them in polite company. They speak words that the phoenix cannot quite understand, and slowly her other eye opens to show the discontentment beneath her skin. Why was sleep so much to ask for in this god-forsaken pool of light? Didn't they know when to let someone just be?
Irritation curves into every crevice of her cheeks, her lips, her shoulders that rise and fall more quickly with the quirking of her brow as Erd's words hit her like a freight train. Moira Tonnerre growls, slow to catch up, snapping at the stick as it is pulled back for a final time and teeth bared in a savage snarl.
Who the hell do they think they are?
With a heave she lifts herself, standing taller than the two by at least half a foot. Down her nose she looks, and scolds with that heavy gaze. "And you are?" she asks, her soft, husky voice like a midnight caress, like the smoke at one in the morning when you can't sleep and stress and cigarettes are you last (and only) companions, like a storm you can only see but can't yet hear approaching to take you away. Oh, from the downward curve of carmine lips the darkening mood begins to show.
A glance at the water has her blinking, reeling away at last, curving her wing and nodding her cheek towards the hilltop before she turns to walk up, up, up and away from the temptation of falling into that glowing pool once more, letting it wash over her and drown her and consume her until Moira Tonnerre is so full of light and liquid that she could be floating in the sky instead of in a pool of death and decay. "Follow along," is all she says once halfway up, looking over to glare at the boys and demand that they come.
Perhaps you should not awaken a sleeping phoenix with toys that are not as sharp as her wit and wrath and temper when aroused. Perhaps you should think before raising the dead from their unholy slumber and demanding they respond if they are to rejoin the living. But they did not think, and now a beast is in their midst, guiding them onward and upward where answers will be gleaned, where knowledge will be gained, and perhaps those claws will be sheathed beneath her skin once more, sinking into slumber and cool pools where even the fire will not reach it.
"Speaking."
credits @Ard @Erd she's not very happy right now >.>
Despite his standoffish demeanor and gruff ways, the moment that those narrowed honeyed eyes focused on him, the younger twin was lost. No longer was he in Novus, in the Eleutheria Plain, standing within the clearing of tall grasses amidst a golden pool and his beloved brother. Immediately he was thrust back in Luminous, the sole recipient of a hostile, dangerous black glare that promised pain, so much pain, if he did not obey.
’Sing for me, little bird.’ Even a year later on a whole different world, free from the clutches of a tyrannical madman, Ard suffered. Vreis’ words echoed in the back of his head, and he winced, breaking his wide eyed stare from molten gold. No, no. It wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t their fault.
The woman of crimson and gold slowly heaved herself upright, and it was the words that escaped her lips, heavy like a caress that would ultimately be followed with a heavy smack across the cheek, that caused him to physically recoil. He winced as though struck, ears flat back and lost amidst taupe and grey curls, and did not dare to meet this strangers’ unrelenting glare. Head down. Submissive. Wings lowered. Waiting. Instinctively his lips parted as though to answer, but no sound came out save a wheezing gasp, almost inaudible to the ear.
Erd would hear it. Erd would know. Erd always knew.
Breath left him. He was choking, drowning, lost in a spiraling pit that all of a sudden seemed to swallow him whole, yet he remained frozen in place. He couldn’t move. A claw seemed to grasp his lungs, his throat closing as panic set in. His mind thrust itself back into that safe place of obeying without question, that familiar disassociation setting in.
’Follow along.’ The order was given, and Ard had to obey. To not obey, to not listen, would mean pain and punishment. He wasn’t ready. It had been far too long since his last punishment, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stay quiet through it all. Vreis had always loved the sound of his voice… Without thinking, as though a mechanical toy soldier, Ard moved. His hooves lurched into motion, guiding him forward and after the taller female emblazoned with the colors of the dying sun.
He was vaguely aware of the sound of his brother’s voice echoing in his ear from somewhere far closer than it should have been, the feel of familiar, identical curves pressing into his side, but it seemed so very far away.
In all of their time spent on Novus thus far, they had encountered nothing but good company along their various travels. Perhaps it was ignorant and foolish, but right now, prodding and questioning the woman who may or may not be dead, Erd expected very much the same thing to happen. What they received, however, was very much the opposite.
As the woman’s honeyed stare was revealed to the world, slowly rolling to focus on him with a molten, piercing glare, the older warlock pulled back the stick just in time to avoid her snapping teeth. He jerked back, unintentionally letting the stick fall to the ground in a clatter, and stared with wide turquoise eyes and forward ears in alarm. Oh. Oh no.
”Um.” The words wouldn’t come. At least not yet. Erd cleared his throat and took another step back, hooves scraping in the soil as the irritated stranger hauled herself upright to continue that vastly displeased stare. Everything else seemed to disappear; the lingering mystery of the strange glowing, golden pool, the clearing they were in, the night sky above them… All of it vanished, save for this crimson-colored woman, Ard, and himself.
Ard? Oh. Ard.
A wheezing gasp stole his attention away from the question that was asked, the grated caress of ’And you are?’ Where he would have once answered, Erd instead turned his head back to spot his brother. Realization sunk in his chest like a rock tossed carelessly into water; heavy, plummeting, and without end. Ard stood frozen like a sentry, gaze averted, head lowered, wings prone in a submissive pose that Erd remembered keenly from their time in Luminous, captives in the rebel camp. The sight broke his heart. Ard had come so far since their arrival into Novus, and to think that this might cause a relapse in his recovery?
Erd had no one to blame for himself. He was the one that, quite literally, prodded the sleeping lion, but this stranger could have had a much more amiable reaction. And it had only been because he had thought her dead!
The elder twin took a step back, gritting his teeth, and when his head faced the ruffled phoenix once more with careful turquoise eyes, he bit out his own answer. He wasn’t mad, no. Fearful for his brother, but not mad. Cautious.
”I’m Erd. That’s my brother, Ard.” Short and to the point. At the moment, he wondered if that was for the best. Almost as soon as the answer had been given, however, the woman made a vague motion towards a cresting hilltop that could be seen peeking out from the tall grass of the clearing. He understood her insinuation immediately, watching as she turned and began striding that way without preamble with a mutter of, ’Follow along.’
Erd snorted. The silver youth turned to face his brother, watching with growing concern and ire as Ard already seemed to be following. His movements were unsteady and mechanical, and Erd knew that his twin was moving along at sheer instinct rather than will. Falling into step with him, Erd leaned over and pressed himself flush against his brother’s side. He leaned close, pressing a kiss to Ard’s cheekbone.
”It’s okay, Ard,” he began on a soft whisper meant for only their ears to hear, ”She won’t hurt you. I won’t let her. I’m here for you. You’re safe, I promise.” He had no way of knowing if Ard was far too deep in his head to hear him or not, but there was no doubt in in his mind that his twin at least knew that he was there. They just knew. It was the bond they had shared, intimate and familiar, since the day they were born.
Following along after the woman but not breaking apart from his brother, Erd eventually found the courage to confront her. Their path remained an easy one, traveling gradually away from the strange pull of the glowing pool of water to instead reach the top of the hill. Only then did he speak, frowning seriously in a way that was far better suited on Ard. Rolling his shoulders back, Erd valiantly tried to appear larger than his rather petite stature, head upright and jaw raised with his chest puffed out in indignation.
”Look. I’m sorry that I woke you up, but you looked pretty dead. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You didn’t have to act like…” A momentary pause. “... Like that.” Like Vreis. Like a cruel, sadistic rebel leader who would have skinned them alive for something as trivial as waking someone up. Yeah, Erd messed up when he woke her, but his intentions had been pure. If this woman’s biting attitude messed up his brother’s meager progress, then, small or not, Erd hoped she was ready.
Faint crunching from behind, the swaying of snakegrass underfoot, the rustle of breath from their lungs. These are the only signs that the two are following behind, the only signs she allows herself to acknowledge on that monstrous trek up the hillside. Who knew what sort hung out in the tall grasses, what creatures slept in the sand (much like she had) and waited for their next meal? These lands, as much as she hates to admit, are as foreign to her as the taste of the sky (for now). In her spine, ramrod stiff determination stands at attention, brooking no room for questions or arguments. Only letting up the whisper of their names from one or the other, she does not look to know who's who. Not yet. There is still a climb, still the sun in the distance that she longs to read under once more, and needs to find roots and berries and herbs and the riches that the plains have to offer.
Their voices are the droning of crickets behind her, their footsteps the songs in the halls as some of the only lullabies she had as a girl.
At last they crest the hill, feet stabilizing on solid ground that does not slope, does not pull them toward the allure of golden waters that lull one to sleep, to drink until they explode. Only then does that same voice pipe up, only then does the phoenix turn with brows drawn lower than they should be. Gold eyes quickly brush over Erd, dismissing him briefly as she assesses his twin, his other half.
And the terror that flits through her heart is enough to stop it, to stop the very breath in her lungs, to pull onto that sanguine visage a look of utter devastation. Moira's wings pull tight, clutching all the pieces that she is together as though she would shatter if they were gone. Eyes soften, mouth slackens, and the air rushes out of her in a heavy whoosh. "I'm sorry," she whispers, a broken record, a porcelain doll fracturing about the face, the heart, the limbs and lungs. "Ard, right? You're okay, I won't touch you."
Easing closer, Moira lowers herself, lowers down until she can look up at the Pegasus. Large, golden eyes implore of him to look at her, to come back. Erd disappears completely, a figment, a phantom on the edges as she remembers what it is to be hollow, to only know your name and nothing other than how to feel the touch on the skin and nothing more than that. As she lays before him, she coos softly, never breaking eye contact. "I'm Moira and I'm sorry I was so crass. It's okay now, I won't hurt you. You're safe here, Ard. Come back, come back please," it is not a healer who speaks to him. It is a broken heart, a bleeding soul that searches in the night for a voice to answer her own. "You're safe here, you'll never be hurt like that when I'm here. I'm sorry, little dove." Ashy voice breaks just as her words fade to nothing. All she can do is wait and watch, a girl before a puppet awaiting the moment when he becomes a real boy again.
Somewhere beyond the thick and heavy veil of disassociation, Ard was vaguely aware of a voice that didn’t belong to his brother. Almost like a song it sang to him, luring and beckoning, soft and melodic and not at all like the cruel, ghostly echoes of Vreis’ hateful whispers and insults. ’I’m sorry,’ it sang, causing a flare of confusion to rise within his tight breast. The voice was sorry? Whatever for? Ard had been the one to not listen. He was the one deserving of punishment.
’You’ll never be free of me,’ Vreis had once whispered, looming over the young warlock like a visceral, hedonistic god of lore, his eyes burning coals of blackness and eternal damnation, ’Even when I am dead and gone, you will never be free.’ A promise, a vow, and one that Ard knew he would never rid himself from… Yet, curiously, the more that he listened to this new voice, the more obvious it became that it was not Vreis at all.
A woman beckoned him, her voice close and closer still. His breath hitched in his throat, vision coming back to his downcast eyes, whisking him away from that terrible place of shadows and painful memories. Weakness stole across his limbs, replacing bone with rubber, a deep tremble coming over him and causing his legs to quiver and quake like a newborn foal. A gasp left his lips, a sharp, dramatic inhale as if he had been held under water, and he wavered, unsteady.
’Come back.’
Immediately Ard could feel Erd pressed up intimately against his side, holding him steady and upright. Bright, wide turquoise eyes blinked slowly as the world shifted back into focus, and what he saw nearly startled him back a step. Were he not feeling so weak and shaky, he probably would have. The woman of crimson flame that they had met by the glowing pool lay before him, her legs tucked close as she stared up at him imploringly with eyes of rich molten gold. She was speaking, he realized, pulling him from the depths of his own mind.
’You’re safe here, you’ll never be hurt like that when I’m here. I’m sorry, little dove.’ Little dove. Dove. The warlock’s heart ached and he swallowed, tears springing unbidden to his eyes. Dove. His breath hitched within his throat, something raw and terrible clawing its way from the deepest part of him. No one, save for his precious brother, had ever called him such a thing with unwarranted tenderness. Dove.
“I-I’m h-here,” he stuttered without thinking, blinking slowly, blearily, feeling lightheaded and weak as though his wobbly legs could do nothing to hold him upright. “I’m s-sorry.” The words that escaped dark, trembling lips were more a whisper, raspy from disuse like he had been drinking gravel. He quaked, shivering, the shock of it all slowly ebbing away and leaving him with every resource drained. “Erd?”
Turning his head just so, Ard caught sight of his twin pressed close against him, Erd’s muzzle only inches away and his expression cast in a terribly uncertain, pinched frown. He stared, catching his brother’s eye, and reached out for that physical confirmation that all was well, that nothing would hurt him, that this woman was telling the truth. Weakness stealing his functions and voice, the younger warlock grew quiet once more, letting his brother speak for him.
After all, they never had needed words to communicate before.
Never before had Erd been filled with such ire, such a desire to lash out. Typically a young man full of boyish grins and easy laughter, there was no way that violence would ever appeal to him. They had served their time as weapons of war, tools for a cause that they had no care for, and it had robbed the young warlock of any desire to ever fight or draw bloodshed through physical or magical means… Yet with Moira, this woman of flaxen hairs and crimson splendor, he wouldn’t think twice.
Standing as stock-still as he could manage with Ard leaning against him, Erd’s narrowed eyes of piercing color glared at the said woman. He wouldn’t forgive her. Not for this. Not for how she so rudely had acted, sending his precious, wonderful brother into a lapse of… Of…
Abruptly, the ire melted into confusion. Moira’s expression itself seemed to change and warp, twisting, her brows going from narrowed and furrowed to raised with understanding and surprise. Her mouth, clenched so tight with displeasure, seemed to slacken as something overtook her. Realization, perhaps? Whatever it was caused her to speak, and the words that she murmured were not what he had been expecting.
Apologies drifted through the air, completely directed at his brother. Erd glanced Ard’s way, spotting no immediate reaction. Very few could pull him from the trenches of disassociation. Mouth parting, the older warlock paused before he could speak, deciding to let the woman, Moira, say her piece. He did bristle, however, as the phoenix-woman tucked her wings and cautiously approached, seeming to understand the need for ‘slow’ and ‘calm’. Even as she got closer to the twins, Erd stood bristled, waiting, just in case… But the world seemed full of miracles.
Moira dropped down to the earth, her legs folding with remarkable elegance as she let herself rest against the grass at their hooves. Imploringly she looked up at Ard, speaking to him with a sort of familiarity. An ear tilted back in curiosity. Did she understand? Did she know? It was hard to say, but instead of speaking or interrupting, Erd allowed it to happen. Ever so slowly did Ard come back to himself, and much to his surprise, managed to choke out a few raspy words.
’Erd?’ As his brother’s gaze, beautiful and sorrowful, searched for him, Erd immediately tried to smile and reach out for him.
“It’s okay,” he soothed, letting Ard take as much time as he needed for reassurance. He could feel his younger brother’s trembling and unsteadiness, and did not even try to move. “You don’t need to apologize, Ard, you didn’t do anything wrong. There was just a misunderstanding. You’re alright. Nothing’s gonna happen now, I promise. Take your time. You’re safe.” And he meant it. Letting Ard try to collect himself, the older twin cleared his throat and glanced towards Moira with a flick of turquoise eyes.
The ire that he felt for the woman had diminished, but there was still a note of caution to him. Rolling his shoulders back, the warlock spoke, expression somewhat scrunched. “I, um. That… Wasn’t the best way we could’ve met. I’m sorry. You said your name was Moira? I… I’m glad you’re not dead.”
