[P] Feels like home

[Caelum]

Caelum

Hello, darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping

Denocte looked the same.

Exactly how she remembered it, though it was fall, and she left in spring. But the smells were different, a likely change to leadership that had her wondering who was in charge now. Her hooves touched down lightly on the soil as she looked around, drawing in a soft breath, picking out the scents she recognized - Lu was still around (a good thing, considering the items she'd brought back for her fellow healer). The tangy ocean scent from young Pol who avoided the ocean like the plague. And so many others she hadn't seen in a year while she'd been away.

It was nice being back.

It was simpler here. Sure, there was chaos, calamity and confusion of it's own sort in Novus. Between the Gods, and the land itself (she remembered the island well - though there was an odd ripple where it once was now). But it wasn't the horrors she'd experienced in the past. There had been no pain here. Nothing to further shatter her heart that had been broken so many times, the pieces no longer fit together. There was nothing else to shove in her box and bury under barbwire so she wouldn't have to feel it.

Slowly, Novus was healing her.

It would be a long process, Caelum knew that, but the fae princess had hope that it would happen one day - that the light at the end of the tunnel would be with in her grasp and not a fleeting glimpse between moments of darkness and pain. But Cae knew how hard it was to heal wounds of the heart. They weren't like anything physical, applying a balm to a burn, or a poultice to a cut. You couldn't wrap it in gauze and cobwebs to hold it together. You had pick up each piece and push them into a mass and hope it held while time did it's own work.

Some wounds time couldn't heal.

Convallis would forever haunt her memories. A mother doesn't get over burying her child before herself, and it's harder still when it's your fault. She and Calico had antagonized too far. They hadn't protected their child when they should have, in the end, they hadn't protected anyone properly. Only a few they were helping were able to escape, Caelum lost her entire kingdom (the few survivors hiding with the Autumn Court) and her own parent's bodies had been left in a state. Then trying to escape with Calico, Convallis and a few abled-bodied others . . . the ambush wasn't expected. Calico hadn't been able to get there fast enough. Caelum hadn't been able protect Convallis well enough. The others hadn't been strong enough. Their escape had been foiled. Caelum and only seven others out of the group of 50 had escaped. Convallis wasn't one of them. Her little baby boy, not even old enough to taste grass for the first time, struck down before he could even see the world.

You don't get over that.

But Caelum was still healing. She met each day with the best smile she could. She faced each day head on. She had some days when she'd hide in her home, unwilling to face the day, and she had other days where she could laugh at ease. Novus was helping, slowly . . . but returning home to the Florumian Court hadn't been easy. either. She saw the destruction up close again, even if nature had finally began to reclaim the land. Even if the wounds on the earth were disappearing. Her kingdom was in ruins, the large number of graves had been heartbreaking to see, her home was shattered. But one day, she'd be strong enough to win it back, to rebuild, to fetch her brother, and the rest of the Seelie Court from the Unseelie Realm. One day her kingdom would see light again, even if it was her heir who brought it to light, or their heir after them.

But for now, Novus was home.

And it was good to be home.

"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: And let the medics make friends!

And the vision that was planted in my brain
still remains within the sound of silence

[Gareth]

 

G A R E T H

 

She hadn’t shown, and that had bothered the stallion more than he had wanted to let on. Not that he could hide his feelings from his bonded companion. Noor had watched with concern as the brute had brought himself down from the mountains and back home, only to start packing bags full of herbs, salves, items to help him build fire and shelter, and start out again early that morning. Gareth had always been a stubborn man, so long as Noor had known him, which was perhaps longer and more deeply than others could hope for.  But this… This bordered dangerously close to insanity. The mountains were going to start facing the chill of winter long before snow reached down into the valley that was the home of Denocte. 

“Gareth… If she was going to come, she would have in the week you were already there. What good does it do for you and those who would need your help to go hide yourself away in hopes she may return?” The thought was firmly pressed against the mind of the stallion, just shy of pleading. Noor had found that reason was usually easy enough to instill with his companion if only he brought it to light. 

The dappled stallion busied himself, shuffling things in his bags. A small bag had appeared on his doorstep one day, and while it was small, he thought that it might be good to have on his person, just in case. He’d discovered that he was able to carry far more items in it than first it would seem, and that most of those items would find their way mysteriously onto the proper shelves in his home without him ever needing to remove them from the satchel. He had tied it to his other bags and left it empty, just in case he found anything he needed to collect while he was staying in the mountains. He’d emptied his usual raw item bag and had cleaned it as best he could muster, choosing to instead fill it with the various expendable items he would need for the prolonged trip. 

The mushroom-festooned elk grew tired of this quickly, and not one to be ignored so easily, moved to stand in front of the stallion and  pressed his thoughts more aggressively to his companion, determined to get through to him. 

“Gareth. This is madness. What good will this do? You are going to leave the safety of your home, and leave people who need you, for what, exactly?” He stared hard at the man, bright green eyes  searching for any sign of compliance within the amber pools that gazed back at him. Slowly, the elk softened, extending his thoughts more gently. “I missed her, too. But there’s… something not right. About how she was sneaking around, about…” he almost didn’t want to say it, had avoided saying it, in the hopes that he could avoid hurting his friend. “About how she smelled of death. You could sense it, couldn’t you? There has to be a reason that she’s disappeared again, Gareth. And a damn good one.” The elk shuffled, shifting his weight. He didn’t like being so exposed, here, in the middle of the prairie. Behind him, the Arma mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks already beginning to frost. “Gareth, please. Let’s just be done with it. Save yourself the further heartbreak.” The thought was nearly a whisper against the stallion’s mind, and for a moment, the elk thought that perhaps he had finally broken through to his companion. 

Then, the large stallion stepped to the side and moved around him, speaking aloud. “I can’t do that, Noor. You know that if there’s even a chance…” his voice broke suddenly, and it took a moment for the man to compose himself and begin again once more. “If there’s even a small chance that I can finally tell her what she means to me…” He tossed his head over his shoulder to watch his friend. “I have to follow it.” 

He paused, watching as the elk dipped his head in defeat, but said no more. After what felt like years, he righted himself and continued forward once more, large feathered pistons moving the grass around him, determined to make his trek. “So are you coming with me, or not?” The question was moot. Noor would follow him, always. If nothing else than to be the one there to help him pick up the pieces when things inevitably fell apart. 

The pair had been so wrapped up in their own discussion that they had not noticed the petite frame in their path, set against the horizon atop the next hill. 

"Speech" | Noor | @Caelum | Sorry this took seven million years, but I hope this works well for you!

[Caelum]

Caelum

Hello, darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping

The air was crisp, but alive.

Breathing it in filled her with a sense of peace, of contentment, chasing away the lingering bad memories and painful reminders of her trip to her home kingdom. Old wounds had been torn open on her heart, and the hummed in an angry melody against the ragged wounds of a crumbled heart. But, as Denocte always was, it helped sooth those painful twitches like a balm against the very tears of her soul. It wasn't a perfect fix, but it sheltered her enough to allow her to continue to heal at her own rate, slow but still healing.

But there was much to catch up with here.

A new ruler had taken the crown, even she could scent that in the first few moments her wings had carried her into Denoctian airspace. It led curiosity to where the original ruler had gone - not that she'd spent much time to really remember who was the reigning monarch at the time. When she thought about it properly, she knew only a few fellows of her court by name - even if she recognized many others by sight. Not a reassuring venture to only be able to call out 'hey you' to catch someone's attention. And Denocte was truly becoming home, didn't she owe it to herself to settle in and settle down, know the people and start letting roots down?

A wince tore across her features at that thought.

Nothing good had happened thus far when she'd settled down. Her kingdom was in ruins. Her son had gone to the stars. Her first love had been ripped from her before she was properly into adulthood, her other half had been stolen when he put his own life down for hers many years after. In her short early life, she'd experienced much heart ache from the mere actions, mere beliefs she'd found a place to call forever. And a part of her feared a repeat if she were to really settle down again in Denocte. The medic in here know the signs, the obvious facts of PTSD and anxiety flaring up and afraid to give into a happiness of her own, instead throwing herself into helping others. Always helping others. Better to focus on others than her own inner turmoil, pain and need for healing.

She hated psychoanalyzing herself.

And now that she'd properly come into her fae attributes, immortality and all, the eight year old mare was aware she had all the time in the world to worry and heal herself later. At her own pace. When she was ready to face her own demons. For now she'd bury it down into her core, where she could forget about, no matter how unhealthy. She'd paint the smile on her face, she'd wear the glossy expression of faux happiness to hide the fact she felt very little to her core. She'd be a good little doll on the shelf, a marionette for her strings to be pulled, while inside she was as empty as the pretty toys.

She'd heal someday, surely, but not today.

Perhaps a proper distraction would be useful however. A companion even. A bird to flutter through the trees with? A fox to race the wind? A deer to bound across the plains? Even as she pondered on it, she shook her head, well aware that it would take a special beast to bond with herself, to be able to sort through the many complicated layers of her heart, her being. And the idea of not being alone anymore was scary in its own right. She shook that weak thought from her mind, A princess should fear nothing, she must be strong to her people. Walk as if the ground yields to your hoof, and smile with the strength of the sun. If our people see you brave, they will be brave, even in times of strife. Be your people's princess, child. Her mother's words whispered to her on the wind, the memory trailing as she straightened her shoulders and her wings fluttered before falling against her spine.

She walked as if on air.

But her mind was a million miles away. It was only the murmur of a voice and the dull clop of heavy hooves of another shortly before their two paths, so unfocused, would have collided. Caelum's wings snapped out to swerve her from their path, eyes wide and startled as she took in the large stallion, and the large creature at his side, some sort of elk perhaps. The fae mare lowered back to the ground, hind limbs touching down with out a sound before her fore hooves followed, white hair fluttering around her features, expression calm, dignified, regal, but friendly, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, I'm not usually so foolish to be distracted so thoroughly by thoughts!" She apologized for the unintentional blockade her own delicate form had made, "Please do forgive me, I promise I'm not usually the type to intentionally aim to be trampled." She added, a soft laugh escaping her muzzle, the sound sweeping, but ringing a little false, a little forced - a really good faked emotion, but missing the truly deep bellied joy she could no longer produce in her fragile state of heart.

Her eyes shined, and a painted smile hid the emotionless void with in.


"Speech"
Thoughts
@Gareth
Notes: Why does she have to be so formal . . . while not horribly formal, NORMAL HORSES DONT TALK LIKE THIS CAELY

And the vision that was planted in my brain
still remains within the sound of silence