The grass of the plains billows in rolling, yellow-green capped waves as far as an oblong eye can see. An early morning breeze rushes across their newly seed-topped stems, unbroken by tree or rock or rise, sweeping freely forward until it crashes unexpectedly across the wide face and chest of Willfur. He inhales deeply, savoring the scents of spring: honeysuckle, blackberries, growth. He pans his eyes across the horizon, first one way, then the other, his satellite ears tipping forward.
So much open space!
An itch to run seeps up from the soles of his hooves, creeping higher along the curve of his fetlocks, setting his sparse tail to whisking across his hocks, as if such a motion could brush away the feeling of wildness, the sudden surge of energy crackling across his skin. He was made to run. His entire genus was founded on the ability to sprint away from danger, and, while he knows full well that his personal ancestry specialized much later and in strength rather than speed, he's neither so far off the original evolutionary path nor so old as to eschew such simple, primal joys.
Not yet, anyway.
With a self-indulgent squeak he plunges forward, kicking out his heels behind and beside himself each time his forelegs reach to pull and carry his hefty mass, the tiny bell twined into his tail ringing a sharp, staccato melody over the bass of his hooves, rising and falling with each rollicking leap.
It's fun and it feels good to stretch his muscles, loosen his tendons and ligaments. What does it matter to him if he looks silly, nearly 1300 pounds of heavy mule gallivanting full speed across the flatlands, his massive ears flapping forward and back atop his head like broken rudders on a ship, unable to check or right their course through the prairie sea.
ephisto knows what it is, to desire freedom. For her, it is in stretching her wings and soaring to the heavens. In the sky, she leaves behind the shackles of this world. Before her, there is only sky and stardust, an infinite expanse of possibility. Gone are the worries and doubts she faces in the mortal world, gone are the burdens of herd-life and the unease at fitting into a hierarchy she was never destined to mold. So, she can understand the feelings which spur the red-dun stallion into playful antics, even as a chuckle escapes her lips.
She watches him for some time, not wanting to interrupt what was obviously his moment of bliss, wondering what it was to feel so free that he hadn’t a care who watched or wondered. There was a time where Mephisto had felt this unburdened independence, but now, the weight of her newly discovered magic was enough to drive her mind to madness. It had been occupying her every waking moment of late, and for a hairs-breadth second, she allows the feelings of self-doubt to wash away and simply takes in the day as Willfur does. Carefree, and released.
It is only once he slows his breakneck antics that she steps from the treeline toward him, black wings tucked tightly against her frame as the long grasses of Eluetheria Plain skim the underside of her belly. Mephisto whickers quietly so as not to scare him, shuffling forward as she blinks away the sunlight and breathes in the sweet scent of summer wildflowers and teasing breezes. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” She tilts her face toward the sun, letting its rays kiss away the last stings of winter, an easy smile edging at her lips. “I, for one, am ready for warmer days.” A strange sentiment coming from the mare who once called the Winter Court her home – but Mephisto had always had an appreciation for the seasons… and it was time for the sun to shine upon Novus once more.
“I am Mephisto,” she offers to the stranger, dipping her head slightly in greeting. “What brings you to this place… aside from the sunsoaked morning, of course…?”
He's a little disappointed at first that no one is drawn into the game by his antics. No as-yet unknown figure bounds out of the grass to rear and box and leap away with him, but there's a kind of personal joy in the movements themselves, and his shadow is partner enough for now, even if it is predictable in its jabs and feints. He carries on until his lungs begin to heave, his hooves grow heavy, and a sweat breaks out across his neck, mottling the peach colored coat with streaks of deep chestnut, then slows, blowing his nose clear of mucus and dust.
What must be the eastern edge of the Viride Forest sprawls immediately ahead, surprising him with the realization that his wild romp has carried him all the way across the plains. Quite a run for so large an animal! And then a second surprise quickly follows the first, a voice rising above the susurrations of wind and grass, pleasant and inviting, inquiring.
"Hello!" He calls politely, glad to find some company after all. "It certainly does, but I think I might feel it again tomorrow, in less joyful circumstances." A rueful smile quirks the corners of his mouth, giving the mule a look of both child and parent, one half exasperation and the other too satisfied with the act to be ashamed.
How light he feels, having given in to such a small impulse.
"Mephisto." He repeats, carefully mimicking her pronunciation. "I'm Willfur, and pleased to meet you! I'm headed to the library in Dawn Court, eventually, but I couldn't just pass blindly by." Turning to cast his eyes back over the plains, he sighs quietly, his oversized ears relaxing into a lopsided tilt.
"I'm really not that much of a sprinter, you might be surprised to learn," Another smile, this one teasing, then slipping into something more serious, thoughtful. But I've always loved huge, open spaces like this, where the ground just goes on and on to the horizon. It feels like I could start out in any direction and never have to stop or turn, which isn't true, obviously, but something about that feeling..."
Trailing off, he suddenly realizes how long he's been speaking and how carelessly he's let himself assume intimacy with someone he's only just met. He turns to face the mare, a trace of embarrassment and anxiety flashing across his features. "Silly, maybe." He dismisses, then quickly reconsiders, eyes catching on the wings folded at Mephisto's sides. "Is that what it's like for you? Up there?"
reedom is hardly silly.” She offers him an easy smile, thinking of how she felt in the skies. When troubles befell her and the world became too much to handle, she could clear her head while flying through the endless sky. So, she understood exactly how he felt. The world just looked different from the heavens – smaller. It gave her perspective to see that there was far more to their lives than the daily grind. The world was so much bigger than they could truly know, with more to explore and see than she could ever do in a lifetime.
It is easy to talk to the playful scholar, and Mephisto shakes away some of her tension, allowing herself a moment to soak in the sun. “The heavens are just like this” she offered, “Boundless and open. There is as much to explore in the skies as on the ground.” It was hard to explain to someone who couldn’t fly himself – who would never fly. The thought twisted her heart, for Mephisto had always taken it for granted that she could fly. She couldn’t imagine things any other way. Still, it didn’t seem to bother Willfur, for he’d found his own sky in this place with wide spaces and waving grass.
“I don’t find myself here often. There are many places in Novus I’ve yet to encounter… to be honest, I don’t get out as much as I probably should. Tell me…” she paused with a genuine curiosity, “What do you read about in your library? It sounds like a grand place.”
While she wasn’t a scholar, Mephisto had a seeker’s inquisitive nature. She longed to know more of the lore for this place, curious what drove the pious to worship their gods, even as she considered herself a skeptic.
He smiles back at the mare, grateful first for her willingness to chat - because as beautiful as the open road is, it's also often lonely for the socially inclined - and second for the generosity of her response, both thoughtful and kind when she could easily have justified something perfunctory or abrupt. "Well said. Thank you."
Lifting his chin, he watches the clouds overhead drifting slowly by and tries to imagine gliding over their troughs and peaks, rising and banking to avoid outcroppings like rocks in a cliff-face, the whole scene a monochrome recreation of earthly mountains in his minds eye. He wonders if the vapor is cold when she passes through it and if the moisture condenses and clings to her feathers like dew on a leaf. Could she really see the shape of the world from so high? What does a cloud smell like?
He laughs, catching himself and drawing his attention back down to the present. He's glad to still have this childlike, all-consuming curiosity and he's glad to have mastered it too, at least in part. He doesn't blurt aloud every question that springs to the tip of his tongue anymore, a habit mostly overcome by repeated reprimand, but he doesn't stifle them either, carefully filing them away to ask at appropriate times and in manageable portions, an agreeable compromise for all.
"It must be wonderful." He sighs, and then, "Oh, I've heard the library is incredible. Shelves and shelves of scrolls and books and pamphlets on every subject, some of them dating back to the very birth of the written word! But I've actually never been. I've never been to any of these places before." The oversized ears dip for a moment, swinging backward and forward as if admitting some fault or confessing an uncomfortable truth. If he wasn't already a natural redhead, all peachy tones outlined in rust, he might have blushed a little at his own transparency. "I'm not even sure how I got here, other than placing one hoof in front of the other."
What he doesn't add is that he had known the route he was taking, known where it started and where it led and that here is neither, nor that he has yet to reconcile this anomaly in his own thoughts and feelings. There are just too many questions, even for him, and too many illogical non-answers, so he swallows and moves quickly on.
"I'd love to read them all, but realistically I know I'll have to pick and choose so... I'll probably look at the ones focused on philosophy first - I'd say they're my favorite - and then history and religion and medicine. Those three usually overlap a bit so I like to lump them together, but even if I walk in there with a strict plan I know I'll end up grabbing whatever catches my eye, so there's no predicting really." The grin returns as he rolls his shoulders in a shrug. "Like a colt in a clover patch."
he wonders what sorts of books might catch her eye, never really giving much thought to certain topics which interested her. In a life which seemed so long ago, she had simply been born with a will to survive. There had been no time for reading or for games. Instead, Mephisto’s every day was one which fought for tomorrow. She had been born to a sickly mother who had done her best to care for her, but as the winter days grew long and cold, the mare had perished and left her child to wander alone. So it had been for the first several years of her life – Mephisto had simply learned to fend for herself, relying on her own resourcefulness to get by.
So she has no frame of reference when he mentions philosophy and religion. The gods had never been kind to her, so Mephisto had never really seen fir to worship them. Still, she does not fault those who do. In her eight years, she had met all types – believers and non-believers alike. It was good that they were all different, she supposed – for she could leave the imagining to the philosophers, and the worship to the faithful.
What concerned her now, was magic… for magic had been the thing which had captivated her senses over the past several months. Chewing her lip thoughtfully, she wondered if this playful red stallion would wonder at the darkness in her as she questions aloud, “Do you think they have books about magic? Ones which explain how to control it?” Perhaps there was hope for her yet, to make sense of the strangeness and newness of her magic. She’d been looking for answers inwardly, but Mephisto was willing to admit that a book might be useful.
Making up her mind that it was worth a trip, she asked, “Maybe I could join you? I hadn’t meant to see the library… but it sounds like somewhere worth a stop. Where did you say it was?”
"Oh, I'm sure! Magic has been entwined with, if not integral to, society for a very long time." He's quick to answer, but the winged mare seems already to have made up her mind by the time the words are loose from between her lips. Her attention visibly narrows in, and the coarser mule can't help but feel a little outpaced by her, even before either has moved a muscle. "I would love for you to join me, truly, but if I may be so bold, you have the look of a lady in pursuit now, and I'm not sure I could keep up."
He pauses, shaking his head so that the motion sways his thick neck and ripples down the connecting tissues of his topline like water over smooth, wide stones, illustrating very clearly the lack of swiftness anywhere in his genes. "Even if you chose to keep your hooves on solid ground, which I would never ask for my own sake, I think my easy distraction might drive you to abandonment anyway." Another smile blooms, opening his expression and letting the honesty of his words shine through, all benevolence and indulgence in his eyes, and nothing of resentment. "Just think how many more meadows there are for me to frolic through! Not to mention the streams, the fragrant flower beds, or if there's a pretty scattering of quartz across the path or an overlooking vista along the way..." An exhalation of laughter, then, "Oh, you get the idea."
"You go on ahead and I'll get there in my own time. The library should be due southwest of here, nestled somewhere in the forests of the Dawn Court. I do hope I see you there, though, and if I happen to come across anything on the subject, I'd be happy to put it aside for you."
@Mephisto
Not blegh at all! Thank you for threading with me. <3 I'd love to do another one in the library.
he chuckles at his suggestion that she is a lady in pursuit, for indeed, it would seem to be the case. For too many nights, she’d lain awake at night curious about the magic that grasped her and wondering how to tame it… but now, the answer seemed so clear. For in the tomes of old, perhaps there is a mention toward this very predicament. Perhaps she could learn to still the eyes that gave her sight to a world she could never know alone – so it is this which drives the urgency, even as she offers the second male a smile and a nod.
“Thank you,” she adds hurriedly, turning toward the southwest direction he had pointed, flicking him a grateful smile and a casual goodbye. “I appreciate it, truly.” And just as he had romped in the fields below, she lifted to the heavens in a flurry of shadow, her form blotting out the sun briefly before she soars toward the library, and the answers she seeked to find.
