There was always a peaceful serenity about the cliffside. From the moment he had arrived in Novus, it was here that he felt the most comfortable. To be able to look over the edge at the ocean lapping against the rocks, to hear the sounds of the waves crashing. Something about it was calming and soothing. Adding to the moment was the sun that was just barely beginning to rise. The sky filled with oranges and yellows, Rhone’s eyes scanning over it. This was what he loved doing. A quiet morning, sipping his coffee, reflecting on his life and his future.
He missed the mornings of quiet conversation with Asterion, of the deep thoughts that the other stallion seemed to resurrect within him. He missed that stallion, more than he probably could care to admit. But he had moved on to something greater, an encouragement to Rhone to do the same.
So much had changed in the last year. So many of his friends were long gone, leaving him to reflect in the quietness of the morning by himself. Rhone wished he had a friend to share this moment with for it was too beautiful to simply take in on his own. There were so many good things that his new day had to offer and it was a shame Rhone was going to encounter them all by himself.
But even as he stands here alone, he can hear footsteps behind him. Someone is coming to join him and there is a part of Rhone that wants to turn around an greet him or her. And yet, he cannot pull his eyes away from the beauty of the morning. Whoever is coming towards him will stand beside him if they were to converse. Who knew? Perhaps they were just passing through or perhaps they sought him out individually. There were so many possibilities. Rhone would simply stand here and wait, waiting for the world to change. He could probably stand here forever if he was given the opportunity. Sighing, the stallion waited.
he was drawn to the cliff’s edge, drawn to the momentary peace they gave. The sunrise was a bright as Elena’s flowers, stretching wide across the sea and staining the kingdom with hues of gold and pink. The peace of it gave her pause to smile as she leans closer to the edge – close enough to hear the wash of sea on rocks – close enough to smell the brine upon the morning air. If she had truly wished to be alone, Mephisto would have flown low against the waves, stretching off to the horizon without a care to the world. But perhaps there is a part of her too which is lonely. And so, she scans the cliffs for signs of life.
First, she sees a Mirestag , watching it curiously while wondering what had brought it so far from the fields. Her eyes met the deer’s and hold for a moment, feeling a surge of energy emanating from him, though the warg never fully materializes. Instead, the creature blinks at her, as if wondering what brought her to the cliffs as well, before he turns with little more than a quiet acknowledgement, making his way back to the treeline and the fields which lay beyond it.
She continues past small piles of rocks, stacked with the larger pieces on bottom and smaller toward the top, wondering if someone had built them as small offerings to Vespera. While she didn’t buy into the religion of this world, the dark Pegasus does not fault others their beliefs, leaving the piles undisrupted as she goes, making her way toward Rhone without truly knowing where she was heading. For it was muted wanderlust which drove her onward now, and as she crests the next slope and sees him, this curiosity is mixed with a quiet greeting as she approaches.
He does not turn to her, but Mephisto knows he can hear her approach by the way his ears turn toward the sound of her feet crunching against rock. She does little to muffle the sound, coming to stand beside him as he stares to the sea, picking up the spicy scent of his coffee. "It’s beautiful,” she murmurs to the stranger, feathers ruffling some in the chill of the sea breeze which caresses in her wings. "Some days, I cannot imagine doing anything but looking upon this view…”
He brings the mug of coffee to his lips, sipping it lightly as he relishes the flavor. He had once been an individual who liked all things as they should be; where a horse only ate grass and drank water. Novus had changed him over the years, though. No longer did he sleep beneath the stars but in the quietness of a shack. His body would lay in a bed of straw, kept warm by a fire that flickered in a fireplace. And to think that now he enjoyed the flavors of Novus! Coffee and danishes were amongst his favorites, though his pallet had been growing each day.
As she comes to stand beside him, he swallows the last sip of his coffee before tucking the mug back in the satchel that hands loosely along his shoulder. He nods quietly at her comment of this place’s beauty, finally turning so that he may lay his eyes on her. He’s seen her before, though he doesn’t recall a formal meeting. He offers her a welcoming smile, one that tells her he is not upset that she has come to stand beside him.
He sighs, his chest heaving with breath that creates a smoke. He listens thoughtfully to her words and it brings a smile to his lips. "I could die a happy man to only be able to see this view." This had always been a favorite place of his. It was a place to feel his connection to Brighton, to feel as if he was meant to be in this world. It was his place of idle conversation that seemed to hold the most meaning. This was the place where he had made so many friends – Atlas, Erd, Ard, and Asterion. So many pleasant memories clung to this very spot on the cliffs.
He turns to look at the tree just beside him, that he had planted and raised. The tree clings to the rocks in an unearthly manner. It was Rhone who had given its roots the ability to hold tight to the rock and sandstone. It was Rhone who had breathed life into it and it was Rhone who made it blossom now. This tree was growing each and every day and seemed to defeat the odds. Each morning Rhone would encourage it to grow taller, to produce life. He was happy with this tree.
He turns back to the mare now, his eyes scanning her and then giving her a proper welcoming greeting. "I come here each and every morning. I’m surprised our paths have not crossed as of yet." He is an old man, however. It is possible he just cannot remember the meeting. Blame his aging mind. But despite his age, his joints do not ache like most. Instead of walking the path of life towards death, Rhone feels as though he has so much more life to live.
could die a happy man to only be able to see this view. She smiles, understanding the sentiment well… for Mephisto had often thought the same, wandering along the cliffs when the sun was setting low in the sky or rising to its place of prominence in the morning. There was just something about the glow of dusk against the water which brought a sense of peace and serenity to her, and Mephisto relished in the quiet moments where she could steal away and simply feel at one with nature. It afforded the dark Pegasus opportunity to steal away from the others and reflect in the quiet, away from the bustle of the day. Her mind needed the rest, needed the solace which came from simply watching as the world grew still behind her.
I come here each and every morning. I’m surprised our paths have not crossed as of yet. His words draw Mephisto from her place of reflection, and she offers the man a rare and quiet smile. "I am rarely a creature of routine… especially of late.” She doesn’t dwell on the curiosity of her words – for how could one explain the magic which twisted and boiled within her, turning her into something else. The magic had stolen from her a sense of privacy, coming on at awkward and inopportune times, leaving her defenseless and without a way to keep her mind sharp to her surroundings. So Mephisto had stolen away, hidden herself from society until she had come to understand the strange newness of her gift. Now, it was still a wild and unpredictable thing, but one which had begun to take on some order and balance, one which she was beginning to understand, if not embrace.
"I am called Mephisto, a warrior in Marisol’s Halcyon army. Most mornings, you can find us training at the Barracks… there’s not often a morning where I can escape to wander and enjoy the scenery. But, I come at dusk. If you haven’t seen the way the sun sets against these cliffs, you must… it’s a truly breathtaking sight.” She sighs whimsically, settling easily beside the earth elementalist, peering at the grass beneath their feet which seemed to pull toward him as if driven by some magnetic force.
Instead of questioning the strange behavior of the fauna around them, she drives the conversation toward more personal questions of her acquaintance. "Have you been here long, in Terrestella?”
Routine. It seemed as though Rhone had always been a creature of habit, always enjoying the simplicity of doing the same thing each and every day. He always knew where his day would start and where it would end. Some found this life boring, but as of late, Rhone found it soothing. His life had been so unpredictable and often stressful at times. There was something relaxing about not having to worry about where his next meal would be, if he would be a good king or a bad, or if his children loved or hated him. Right now, he could simply survive and it was enough for him. Perhaps it would lose its luster, but for now, Rhone would take the peace and tranquility that his routine offered him.
When she states that she is rarely a creature of routine, especially in this day and age, Rhone offers her a soft chuckle. He knows that feeling. He knows that life all too well. "I did not used to be a creature of habit. But after many years, the unpredictability got to me. There’s something comforting in a much slower, more predictable lifestyle." Would he go back in time to an era where unpredictability ruled his every thought and motion? Yes. He regretted many things in his life and there were so many things he wished he could change. He wished he was a better lover. He wished he was a better father. He wished he had been a better king. If he had to trade in this tranquil life for a second chance, he would do so in a heart beat.
Mephisto. He had heard of her before, if only by means of others. It was nice to be able to put a face to a name and he made sure to align the two, locking them away deep within his mind for safe keeping. He would not forget her so long as his mind remained intact. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mephisto. I am Rhone." Many knew of who he was, but he was really no one important. He was not a soldier like she was, although he had once been a soldier. He lacked the appendages the Halcyon army required, and so he hung up his sword in favor of a more diplomatic approach.
As she speaks of the sunset, he nods his head in understanding. He had seen the sunset over Terrastella before, but he didn’t think he had ever seen it from this vantage point. "I will make sure to enjoy it here from time to time." He supposed he could spare the time to make the trek up here. Where else did he really have to be? Nowhere. He was required to be nowhere nor was his required to be in anyone’s presence. Yes, he would make sure to visit a few sunsets.
And then she is asking him how long he’s been here in Terrastella. He wasn’t sure he really knew exactly how long. Perhaps it had been one winter or three, not that he was really keeping track. "Three or so years, I believe. I don’t really keep track anymore." He had come shortly after the floods, whenever they had decimated the court. "I came shortly after Terrastella was reopened following the floods. I helped to plan the grass and trees and flowers." His affinity for earth had come in handy more than he could have ever imagined. It was in that moment that he thanked Brighton for his gifts. He had been able to help his court rebuild following devastation. "And you?" Had she been here as long as he? Longer? Shorter? It was a curious question and he made sure that his eyes were on her fully, giving her his full attention. It wasn’t nice to be rude, now was it?
ime was a funny thing. She also couldn’t exactly pinpoint when she’d come here. Seasons had changed, and she had changed with them. The world was changed from when she’d arrived, but something he says pricks her interest. "Floods?” Apparently Rhone had been here longer than she, for Mephisto didn’t remember floods in this place. Then again, it was possible they had happened during the time when she’d been away. Those months had been long and strange, and Mephisto had wondered if she would ever find her humanity again. During the time she’d hidden away, she abandoned all thought of anything else, focusing entirely inward as she had tried to make sense of the magic which boiled in her veins. Even now, it was a strange thing, one she did not completely understand, though she was slowly beginning to gain some control.
"Tell me about the floods… I wasn’t aware.” She listens intently, wondering if their land was still healing from such an event, for surely it would have been a hectic and catastrophic thing to befall Terrestella. "Like you, I cannot say exactly when I came… but it must have been after the floods as well. I’m sure I would have remembered such a thing.” Looking around, she begins to notice things she hasn’t before. Loose mud, fragile plants clinging to rock faces, and places where the ground stayed bare despite the sun’s tending.
Still too, she pauses to look at the grass around Rhone’s feet, watching the way it seemed to reach toward him. A wispy trail of morning glory twisted up his leg, blossoms opening with smiling blue faces that stared upon the stallion, almost…. Lovingly? She quirks a brow at the male and his magic, much more beautiful and peaceful than her own. "They like you, I see… the plants, I mean.” As they stand along the cliff’s edge, the grass seems greener underfoot, and when her eyes trail to the place where Rhone had likely walked, she notes that along his footpath, the ground seems healthier and more vibrant.
"We all give how we can,” she assures him, certain that his gift was appreciated by Marisol and the others. "I wish that I could give something kinder and brighter to this world.” There is a sense of longing in her voice, as if mourning the innocence of the girl which might have been. But life had seldom been a kind thing to Mephisto. From the time of her birth, she’d been left to fend for herself, first by her mother and then by her herd. She’d grown strong out of a sense of survival instead of duty, braving the winter’s chill and building resilience as she went.
But perhaps the youth of this place would not feel such constraints. It was her goal, at least, to give them the life she couldn’t have. For while there wasn’t a mothering bone in Mephisto’s body, she wore the mantle of responsibility well, preferring to serve from the comforts of the shadows, ever watching, the protector.
The floods that had ravaged Terrastella had been a hard and trying time for the court. It had ruined the lives of some of the court’s greatest inhabitants. It had ruined the beautiful greenery that now flourished. The floods had destroyed so much and yet, somehow, they opened the door to new life and new growth. From the ashes (or rather marshes) came a beautiful court that only seemed to grow more beautiful by the day.
Rhone nodded his head softly to her silent question, affirming that there were indeed floods. He had not been there to experience them when they came, but he had ventured into Delumine’s library and read the chronicles. They sounded horrific and Rhone was a little ashamed to admit that he was thankful he had missed the destruction. When he had come to Terrastella he had been in a dark place emotionally. He was unsure if he would have had the strength to endure such hardship.
She wants him to tell her of the floods, but Rhone feels as though he is an inadequate story teller. And yet, he chooses to tell her what he does know, after all, it is important to tell stories and educate. "According to the archives, the whole court was driven underwater. The court had to temporarily relocate to Denocte. Perhaps that is why the bond between Terrastella and Denocte has been so strong. I’m afraid I don’t know many details, only what was written down during those dark days." Rhone had come just as the boarders had been reopened. He had been one of the first to enter and help to rebuild. Several stayed away until it was more inhabitable, but Rhone had the courage to be first so he could help them rebuild. How better to build trust with the court than to help the court rebuild?
He listens to her own tale of trying to pinpoint when she had come to Terrestella. She too had come after the floods and for that he was thankful. At least she was able to enjoy the beauty of the court from the moment she arrived.
The conversation naturally turns from the destruction of the floods to the plants around them. He looks at her, watching the way the earth reacts to his magic. The way the grass reaches for him, the way the flowers bloom in his presence. It makes him smile and his heart fill with happiness. The cherry blossom tree upon his right hip begin to bloom, passively telling of his happiness. When she finally speaks, he nods in understanding. "I have always been strangely connected to the earth, even since the day I was born." His earth magic had always been a part of him and it traveled with him to all the words he had called his home. While on Hoof Prince, he had much more magic, Earth had always been his favorite and Brighton would always be the one he worshiped.
As she speaks of her gifts, almost in a way to convince herself that they had purpose, he nods. "Everyone’s gift is beautiful in its own right." Each gift complimented the individual. Some had the gift of battle, winning wars and rescuing prisoners. Some had the gift of foresight, able to stop bad things from happening. Some had the gift of healing, others the gift of knowledge. Each and every gift was beautiful in its own way and each gift deserved to be celebrated. "I’m you’re your gift is no different." His gift made the world physically beautiful, but perhaps hers made the world a better place with regards to how she used her gifts.
t was strange, thinking of her curse as a gift. For too many nights, she had lain awake and shamed herself for the monster which now lived inside of her. Time had allowed her to make peace with the magic, but she certainly didn’t consider it a gift. An asset perhaps, for the magic could be manipulated to will now, more than it had been before. In the beginning, it had assaulted her without warning, taking everything from her and leaving only the shell of her mortal form. It was unfair, losing control over her very mind and free will, lost to the magic without a whim toward why… but now, she was learning to master it, to control it (instead of it controlling her). It was a slow process.
She sighed and nodded to his words, for indeed, the mare’s unique talent would be seen as a gift by the court. It would help them to be prepared in battle, to be aware of the dangers which lurked at their borders and watched them with hungry gazes in the night. They would not be caught unaware, for as long as Mephisto could help, she would. It gave her purpose, she supposed – and purpose was far better than wandering aimlessly as she had been for far too long here in Novus.
"Thank you,” she whispers to the stallion, grateful for his reassurances and presence. “You’ve given me much to think about… and it’s been a pleasure.” She pauses for a moment, letting the warmth and peace of the morning was over her once more, until duty began to nag at her, requiring her presence to begin the daily rounds. “I should be going, but perhaps we will meet on the sea cliffs again? I would like to know more of what you’ve read in the library. I’ll admit, my understanding of the lore here is… rusty, at best.”
She offers him a smile, stretching her wings wide, and rising to the sky with a nod to Rhone below. “Keep sharp, my friend. I shall see you soon.” And she is gone once more, her cerulean gaze piercing through the clouds to gaze upon the kingdom she is sworn to defend.
Rhone is nothing but a dear friend. He is friend to everyone, choosing words to uplift rather than to hurt. He wants her to see that he magic is a gift, not a hindrance, but he cannot force her to see it as such. He can tell that she is lost and confused, but he knows that she will go on a journey of understanding. That is a journey only she can go on and there is nothing he can do to make it easier for her. He tells himself that he will say a prayer for her and her growth.
He nods his head at her thanks, knowing that perhaps he had given her more questions than answers. But at least she knew which areas she needed to think about.
She looks to the sky and he knows that look. Duty calls her and he does nothing but let her go. One’s duty to their court is important and while their duties differ completely, each is no less important than the other. "Any time, my friend. I love to share." The libraries had been a place he was growing to love. They offered so much knowledge and wisdom, something Rhone was finding that he craved.
He watches her leave, taking leap into the sky and becoming one with the wind. He watches her leave with a smile about his face, knowing that he has changed her life forever, even if she doesn’t yet realize it. He sighs, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. Today had been a beautiful start to the morning.
And so, with a final glance at the tree he had worked so hard to plant and grow, Rhone turns himself away from the cliff’s edge. Steps take him back towards the court and back towards the bustling life below.
