“Elena.” Even now she can hear her choking on the darkness.
“Lilli.” she had breathed back, wanting to cry but not remembering how to.
And they had found each other once again.
Elena has first come Murmuring Rivers with her head held high, knowing what she was: an orphan. She didn't want anyone to see her cry. She wouldn’t give Frostbane the satisfaction of her tears. She she cried silently under the moonlight when no one but the stars could hear her. She would stand, bold and brazen in the sun, asking the fates to fight her again Elena had nothing else to lose. Until Lilli that was, the little sorrel girl who had seen Elena’s walls and barriers and merely waited outside them with the patience of a saint. And then there bond was born in fire, to melt the ice that had come to freeze them.
Maybe this is why she cannot settle, cannot find any warmth in this winter. Alone Elena is no flame, she thinks, but just a glowing ember that waits for something, something else to make it grow.
So Elena continues to do her due diligence, still collecting her herbs, doing what she can for her court and the goddess that she has pledged herself to, still working to help those she can. There is some silly, naive, stupid part of her that still believes there is good in the world.
Elena is not broken yet.
But she has gotten more fragile as time has gone on.
Today though, she finds herself in another setting entirely. She places feet steadily upon the rocks below her, reminded of the evening when a rock slide had nearly killed her. Aerwir had saved her, but in the end, his bravery came at too high of a price for Elena. Her heart thrums with the expected view at the top of the cliffs she has heard throughout the whispers of the capital. Elena left the city behind and traveled to the country side, beyond the fields and upwards.
Shoulder muscles work to pull her upwards, back legs pushing in unison, until she feels herself rise over the cliffside. It would seem the hearts of Dusk have not lied to her, and the sunflower girl is rewarded for her efforts. “Wow.” Her voice is a pin dropping, quiet and breathless. She decides in this moment as she stares out over the cliffs, the sea crashing at its doorstep, that maybe, maybe Dusk can truly be her home just as Hyaline was, Culloden, Woodlands, Paraiso, Murmuring Rivers, and Windskeep.
But, Elena has been wrong before.
* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.
The sinking sun’s light cut through the space between cloud and sea in a blade of golden fire.
The horizontal pillar sliced through waves far below and stretched shadows into gnarled specters. Raglan knew that even has the blinding disc sunk beneath the oceans, it would burn, burn, burn, protesting with an endless and burning fury against that temporary death. He wondered how long the damnable sun would keep it up, for how many more millennia would it burn and rage and fight until it was reborn each dawn.
Maybe forever, maybe this was the last time.
Awash in golden light, the Crow soared over white capped waves and jagged rocks, pale eyes scanning the cliff walls for what he didn’t know. Wind buffeted against feathers and flesh, mane and tail, pulling the latter out in a cream colored banner. The winter swells were something that Raglan had never taken the time to witness — the lad had never been enthusiastic about gallivanting about in cold weather — but, he felt a distinct sensation of awe as he watched monstrous wave after monstrous wave crash, roar, tumble into and over one another.
He wondered if Icarus truly fell or if the boy had only been mesmerized by the chaotic rhythm of Lady Ocean.
He wondered if Icarus needed company.
Then, a flash of gold, solid and real, caught the pegasus’ attention. Tilting his wings, Raglan found himself gliding toward the burnished speck until it came into focus as a mare — a perfect palomino with a glistening coat and an expression of near-rapture on her face. He couldn’t help but smile a bit in response, and decided that some company could only add to the brilliance of a sunset. Spiraling downward, the mahogany stag came gently to the earth and sighed as his body adjusted to the sensation of gravity anchoring pale hooves to soil.
Moving so that he stood by the stranger’s side, Raglan offered a nod before letting his gaze drift back out to sea, “Careful that the wind doesn’t snatch you up and toss you down, I hear Lady Ocean feasts on pretty maidens when she is upset.”
“I think that’s why we have each other, we cant be lost when we are together,” she had said, looking up at the stars, she shines gold in the simplicity of the starlight. “It’s impossible.”
So, what now?
They aren't together anymore and it is Elena’s fault. She was the one who left.
But as she stands on the edge of the cliffs, the ocean reaching up with its sea foam hands, Elena feels anything but lost. She sends her thoughts like messages in bottles over the edge of the cliff to the shores of Nerine where she knows Lilli will find them.
Dear Lilli,
I am a medic now, I get to heal others, to bring happiness back to their lives and to mine.
Elena
Dear Lilli,
I shouldn't have left you. I’m sorry.
Elena
Dear Lilli,
How is Taiga? Are the trees still imposing as ever, but gentle once you get to know them? You are a great diplomat, keep doing your best. Never forget I love you.
Elena
It is a beautiful way to drown her thoughts, to regain her bearings in this strange new land that she has pledged herself to. The ocean mist occasionally caresses her face and it is startling in the cold winter air.
Elena looks outwards, even downwards at the watery fathoms below, but she conveniently fails to put her eyes to the sky. As a result, she misses how Raglan spots her, standing like she was on the titanic. She is far too busy looking out at what is ahead rather than what is beside her in the present. Perhaps, this has always been what has lead Elena to her problems. It is hard to say whether today would be any different.
The sound of hoofbeats landing upon the clifftop is the only thing that could have dragged Elena away from the view of the sunset over the water. He comes to her side and Elena does not shuffle away as perhaps her past ought to have taught her. Instead, she feels a rush of gratitude to no longer be alone. She may not be lost, but she could consider herself to be lonely.
His comment. She smiles then, letting glacial blues look to the stranger. “Well, if the ocean be a lady, perhaps it is not fair maidens that ought to fear her,” she says, a coyness to the way she looks towards him from underneath those long, dark lashes of hers. “You have heard the tales of women who have been scorned by men, and if the ocean is a woman as you say it is…” she blinks once or twice at him before her gaze is cast like her precious messages in bottles out across the water. “So maybe the gentleman is the one who has the right to fear her.” She teases, but Elena could see how it would be possible. Men have broken her heart, have broken her skin, have tried to break her mind and her soul, how easy it would be to hate them all.
But Elena is far too generous to deny anyone either her company or her heart.
* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.
That she didn’t move away comes as no surprise to the stallion, for his entire life he has honed the are skill of being disarming, of allowing those around him to relax. At first, he and his fellow Crows had sought to profit off of such a temperament, but Raglan quickly found that it bruised his heart more than lined his coffers. The bloody skinned youth had even gone so far as to sneak back the riches he had stolen, much to his Crows’ chagrin. From there, the pegasus had worn his heart openly, albeit dressed up beneath layers of humor and innocent flirtation.
The setting sun was painting the pair in blaring shades of vermillion and gold; for her part, the mare looked an angel, glistening and glimmering in that burnished skin of hers. Raglan felt himself nod appreciatively, feeling refreshed by the wholesome simplicity of he maiden’s design. It was rare, in the fantastical lands of Novus, to find an equine and not some mix of mythical and terran beasts. She held herself well, not that it was any matter what Raglan in the capacity of a stranger felt, but the stallion felt his heart gladden that she didn’t seem to have been beaten down by the dangerous whimsy of such a place as his home.
A smile graced her features and the stag couldn’t help but respond in kind as her reply drifted across the small distance between them, darkened lips tilting skyward. ”Ah,” He began, mischief flickering in the depths of opalescent eyes, ”Luckily I am no gentleman, and the Lady has grown accustomed to my wheeling over her waves like some great and crying gull.” He grinned wider, an almost-dimple appearing just behind the fold of his smile as he gazed toward the burning horizon.
”I would hope, however,” Raglan’s voice had softened noticeably, his charming grin slipping almost completely away to make room for a sort of wistfulness. ”That those men that dared scorn the Seas or her sisters were made to regret it however the scorned saw fit.” A beat of silence then, broken only my the monstrous roar and hiss of the crashing waves far, far below their crumbling precipice.
”I’m Raglan. Thank you — for not pushing me to the sea and for letting me join you. In truth, I had come out here to reminisce and feel sorry for myself, but I think you’re already proving to be better company than bittersweet memory.”
He nodded his horned skull, as if agreeing with himself, pale eyes still fixed upon the thrashing waters. The Silvertongue liked her already; he could tell from the way she had glanced at him from beneath lashes of spun gold, how the gentle steadiness of her soul had reached out and stilled his sparrow heart. She was good, and he was glad.
“Someday,” she had said so long ago when they had been small and able to fit in their tree house with ease. “I’ll learn how to build worlds. And then we can leave everything else behind.”
There is no undoing, but there is renewal, there is creation.
It would be easier, to exist in a vacuum, without the weight of all their experiences. And if she thought it would save them she would do it in a heartbeat, create a world for them somewhere, somehow. (Ah, but she is not a god. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Even if Lilliana had made her feel like one at times). Instead they were grown now, stained, dripping with all these experiences, history a thick and leaden tapestry on their backs. Death and family and betrayal and leaving, always leaving, everyone left.
(But then they always looked back at each other, always caring, always loving).
Always. Always. Always.
The sun has always adored Elena. The way it curved and caressed around her golden skin. It has always turned her to fire and made her as bright as summer and as warm as flames. But then again, perhaps this man before her has felt the same with his russet skin that wears the waning sunshine so well. The arches of colors across the sky sets a fine tone for a first meeting among the boy and the girl on the wild cliffs of Dusk.
Her laugh is near instantaneous with his words. A seagull, the perfect imagery for the man before her with great wings that makes Elena think of Rishiri. The mare had been more akin to raven, with her sneer and her hardened eyes, but Elena could not think of her as anything more than her caring aunt. “If you are not a gentlemen than I suppose the sea has no reason to fear,” she says and peers out at him with those eyes as blue as early morning frost. “But should I have reasons to feel dismay?” She questions him with an impish grin that twitches the corners of her lips. She looks silly there, with that smile on her face, and young and childish. There is something refreshing in the humor.
“Have you seen the fish that scurry away when a shadow passes over?” She asks looking first to the water before turning those blue eyes back to Raglan. “I believe those are the souls of the men who scorned her, who now live in fear the sea may finish them off,” she says in dark, low tones before that bright lilt returns to her voice. It would seem Elena is unable to remain dark and for longing for more than a few moments.
She likes the way the ocean fills the silence, it makes her comfortable and calm standing here with a stranger in a land that still feels strange. “Hey, don't thank you me yet. There is still plenty of time for me to push you in,” she says with that same impish smile. “I am not quite as dainty as I may seem.” A beat. “I’m Elena, Raglan. And I would appreciate the company this evening,” she admits. Elena could never be one to turn away company, no matter the sort. It may very well be the reason why she often finds herself embracing those who would be much better of (better of for Elena anyway) if she had just left them alone.
“You say your memory is bittersweet,” she says, settling herself closer to him and in position to where she can gaze with glacial eyes out across the sea that lurches and sways. “Care to share with me the sweetness of it?”
* e l e n a
in the dark I’ll pray for the return of the light the sunflower daughter of benjamin and beylani
medic of dusk.
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