[AW] 'I' am also a 'We'

[Ard]

ARD

As they progressed through the fields, Ard kept his gaze upon the surroundings and let his brother handle the conversation. He stared hard at the grasses, the skies, and the looming spire that they slowly approached, weaving along the dirt path through the prairie. Apprehension was a familiar feeling within his chest, and his frown grew more severe. They didn’t know what to expect once they arrived. What if things were just as bad in the Dusk Court as it had been in Vreis’ army? They had no way of knowing, of course, but, well… Ard was nothing if not paranoid.

The younger twins’ eyes, hardy and piercing, turned to focus on Marisol. Even though they followed along peacefully behind her, Ard tried to spot any form of deception from her steady march. He wanted, needed to be prepared for any potential betrayal she might be planning. Yet, he saw none. It seemed as though she struggled to sort through Erd’s boundless questions and his insatiable curiosity, and for a moment he felt an inkling of pity for her. Try growing up with him, he wanted to say, but instead only turned his face away to hide a smirk.

The answers that they had been given seemed to satisfy Erd to some degree, but his brother’s following questions weighed far more than the Halcyon Unit commander might understand. Did she understand cruelty? Did she understand unnecessary, manipulative abuse? Did she understand what it was like to be both hated and coveted, hunted and molested? He knew the depth of the question that his brother would not speak.

Will they scorn us if we misbehave? Will we be starved and beaten if we do not perform adequately? Will we be your enemies?

“… Will they try to kill us?” The question was soft and rough as gravel, escaping Ard’s lips before he could even stop them. He stared hard at the Halcyon Commander, the turquoise of his eyes deep and expression daring as though challenging her as they walked. He watched for any notion of treachery, any hint of foul play. Any, and Ard would take his brother and run. Pacifist though he yearned to be, Ard was no stranger to drawing pointless bloodshed… And he hoped that his first few moments in this new land would not result in such a thing.

He had no doubt that in a fight, Marisol would win. Ard and Erd were not soldiers. They were warlocks; pacifists. Yet they were accustomed to the trials and pointless death of a battlefield. The twins had killed countless during their slavery, but this world… They did not know it. They were foreigners amidst a foreign land, and every advantage belonged to the Commander.

@Marisol

[Marisol]

THE ARCHIATER.

Cold ruffles Mari’s feathers and inlays them with frost. Head bowed in agitation, an involuntary shiver pricking at her skin every so often, she plows forward against the icy wind and attempts to ignore the subtle promise of rain still wild overhead. Difficult as it is, she has become practiced in concealment. She is not made for this - winter and hoarfrost and rain - but thanks to the constant, steely expression on her face, the careful poise with which she keeps every muscle in her body bound, it would be hard to tell. Commanders are not supposed to be fazed by anything. Much less some fucking weather. 

Is there anything we should know?

Mari blows a slow breath out and watches it crystallize in the dry air. Her eyes, that soft, molten silver, flicker over the boys for a moment before returning to the horizon. The only other acknowledgment she gives is a careful slowing in pace: she consciously restricts her long-legged strides so that she can more easily fall into step beside them, walking to match their pace rather than remaining a few steps in front of them.  Marisol’s steps are short and clipped, but she manages the awkwardness easily. They walk three in a row now. It is a show of respect, as momentous as it is miniscule.

She’s almost forgotten about the question by the time its answer comes to her. Her response comes tinged with dry humor: The Dusk Court is, perhaps, the luckiest place on this continent for you to have landed. Most Terrastellans are even nicer than I am. If you can imagine. A bare smile washes over her dark lips as she flicks a glance sideways to gauge their reactions. A joke, from the mouth of the Commander, is as rare as it is often unexpected, and about as difficult for her to speak out loud as anything possibly could be. But if it makes them feel any better - well, she’ll try.

A comfortable silence washes over them (comfortable for Mari, at least). Many long seconds have passed before someone speaks again, and a flicker of surprise crosses Marisol’s face as she hears the rough tone, the familiar croak of disuse, and turns her head to catch the silent one speaking in a voice that belies not only his fear but exactly how long he might have gone without talking t all: Will they try to kill us?

Strange as it might be, this is one of the few questions she feels qualified to answer.

No, comes Mari’s reply, absurdly gentle in the howling winds. She meets Ard’s gaze evenly. In the cool late evening, as the two lock eyes, they are slate and turquoise, neither yielding, neither weak, and yet something like warmth glimmers in Mari’s stare, something that speaks volumes to how much of the twins’ lives she might have already lived in her own parallel universe. Terrastella is a land of healers. If anyone were likely to kill you here, it would be me. Yet here we are.

Her voice nearly cracks at the end, unused to so much speaking at once, but her voice rings with controlled confidence, and her gaze remains fixed ahead.

@Ard @Erd

[Erd]

ERD

They trailed along, side by side, and Erd’s ears remained upright as he paid rapt attention to Marisol’s answer. Her words filled him with a warm sense of relief, but also a tinge of concern for reasons that he couldn’t yet name. Caution, maybe? Was the world outside of the Dusk Court particularly dangerous? The elder twin held his tongue for the time being, deciding not to ask questions that didn’t necessarily pertain to the here and now.

The joke, despite how brash and rather abrasive as it was delivered, did not miss its mark. Erd’s dark lips twisted upwards into a grin and he couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped him. “Good. I’m really glad to hear that.”

While somewhat crude and rough around the edges, surely from a militaristic background, the warlock found himself quite liking Marisol and enjoying her presence. She was sincere, in her own way, and he could appreciate such blunt honesty. If the other members of the Dusk Court were, according to the Halcyon Commander, nicer than she was, then surely he and Ard wouldn’t have any issues settling down?

There was the subject of their magic that still needed to be tackled, but that could wait. For now, Erd just wanted to get himself and his brother settled into this new land, maybe find a nice niche to call their own, and eventually, learn to call this place ‘home’. Hopefully that wouldn’t be too difficult to do.

Then, a genuine surprise. Ard, his voice raspy and hoarse at his side, directed his own question towards the Halcyon Commander. Turquoise eyes widened as he regarded his twin, mouth parting in alarm. That… Wasn’t a typical behavior that his brother ever displayed, speaking to someone so recently introduced, yet… Yet Ard’s demeanor was strong. Defiant, almost. Daring. Head held high, gaze straight, brows furrowed in an audacious glare, Ard held Marisol’s stare like a seasoned veteran. It was almost unnerving, seeing his soft-spoken and shy twin behaving so brazenly.

Marisol, however, didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. She held Ard’s gaze as though searching, as though judging, before answering his question just as smoothly and efficiently as she had answered every inquiry thus far. There was notable warmth in her gaze, and it took Erd a moment to place it as understanding. She understood.

That, more than anything, solidified the fact that they could trust her.

[Ard]

ARD

They could trust her. Ard knew.

It was in the way that she stopped, in the way that she directed her ice-grey eyes upon him and held his stare like the commanding figure that she was. The Halcyon Commander, she had introduced herself as. A commander. The title was aptly given. It was in the sudden shift within her gaze, a particular warmth, a softness, a moment of understanding that seemed to alter her expression entirely. It was also in her answer, her words chosen carefully yet effortlessly, as though she had never been more certain of anything in her life. She knew, and she understood. That meant more than words could say.

Ard knew. He knew.

Unbidden, the tension dripped from his shoulders. His wings drooped, with either fatigue or relief, he wasn’t sure. Still holding Marisol’s icy gaze, Ard nodded his head, frowning thoughtfully, but his expression no longer carried that weight of distrust. She wouldn’t harm them. There was no longer a doubt in his mind that she would.

The younger warlock then tore his gaze away and let his eyes wander to his brother, taking in Erd’s stunned expression with a moment of brief satisfaction. He allowed a small grin to quirk his lips, a brief moment of reprieve and reassurance, before the frown was back and he nodded once more for Marisol to continue leading them onward.

“Okay.” Simple, precise. To the point. A single word, yet he hoped it conveyed everything that he was unable to say. Thank you.

@Marisol aka "Commander Mom"