This place was different from the mountain he had first discovered. He wondered what this place was destined for if the mountain had been for worshipping of the deities that ruled this realm. Novus, it was called, he'd come to find out, but still, he wondered just what more this place had to offer him. He was curious but cautious. He didn't want to get too attached to anyone only for them to die and for him to keep on living, lonely in his solitude. He'd had a family once. A family that he had loved, that had also adored him. He was the last one of his bloodline. Everyone else was dead, to his knowledge. He worried about what they meant for him. Did his family's destiny rest on his shoulders, a heavy burden that he was doomed to carry until he met his demise? Creamsicle worried about these things constantly, worrying about what was going to happen in the coming days and weeks, months, and perhaps even years of his stay in Novus. He'd been here how long already, and done nothing with his time? What point was there of him being here, wandering the realms unguided? Did he not deserve a friend, at the very least? Someone to help him learn about this place, to find his purpose here?
Perhaps he should seek out the Gods... but he was too skeptical of doing such a thing. He came from a place of no religion, or at least, very little religion. There had been some elders and neighbors that had believed in higher powers... but Creamsicle found it hard to believe in anything after the war had ravaged the Kingdom he'd been born into. He had been born after the fighting when the damage had already been done, but he remembered the day the Kingdom fell completely. The day when the rulers decided everyone should go off on their own. Families banded together, becoming nomads, and Creamsicle left behind everything he had ever known - the scarcity of food and water only continued as he and his small family wandered from land to land, doing their best to survive. Evidently, their best had not been good enough. Creamsicle himself was only alive because he'd gotten lucky. He should have died, too. Sometimes... sometimes, he wished he had.
Shaking off the depressive thought, the Appaloosa mix sighed and marched onward on his voyage following the pretty little creek he'd stumbled upon. There was no shortage of food nor water here. Everything was seemingly perfect. It was almost too good to be true to the younger brute. Growing up having nothing, only to stumble unknowingly into a Kingdom that had more than it could possibly ever need... it was a culture shock at its finest. He wasn't used to not feeling hungry. He wasn't used to his mouth no longer being constantly dry. He felt spoiled. He didn't deserve this. And yet, perhaps this was the reason he didn't want to leave, to continue his nomadic lifestyle onto Elsewhere. The fear of hunger and extreme thirst would always be in the back of his mind, lingering like some devil waiting to drag him down to the depths of Hell yet again. His past haunted his dreams, turning them into absurd nightmares. He often woke in a cold sweat, feeling like he was being watched, but he was always able to shake it off.
Often, at night, when he woke up or when he couldn't sleep, he would walk. That was how he'd ended up here, the moon high in the sky above him. The air smelled of summertime, hot and sticky with humidity, but there was a calmness to the still night atmosphere that he hoped would linger a little while longer. Here, in the silver light of the moon, he felt comforted and safe. To his right, the creek babbled along over rocks and pebbles. He would follow it for another hour or so and then... and then, he would figure out where to go next.
places, places, get in your places
throw on your dress and put on your doll faces
everyone thinks that we're perfect
please don't let them look through the curtains
When had the time passed?
It felt like it'd been an inexcusable amount of time since she'd last left Denocte. Sure, she was building a home and business, and she was needed to be there to make sure that went well - she was the one literally building it after all. But . . . when had she become such a home body? When had she let herself hide away . . . hide away, was that really what she had been doing? We're always hiding, of course that's what We were doing. Why wouldn't We hide. Hide from the past. Hide from the pain. Hide from the weakness. Weak . . . . Her eyes closed momentarily, when had she started to feel weak? When had she started to dislike these attributes, no . . . when had these attributes began to grow, to appear, to become so strong within her. When had she let herself become less than she was. Oh, if her parents were watching her now, she could only imagine what they would have to say, Stand straighter, be proud. You are Our heir, you are Our future. Don't slouch, don't dismay. Be strong, be proud, be who We raised you to be. Her father's voice would be echoing, loud and carrying, the entire valley would likely be able to hear it. From Denocte all the way to Delumine. He had that way about him. When he spoke, everyone turned to listen.
He had been a powerful force.
The exact opposite of her dainty mother. But where her father was loud and proud, her mother had been silent but strong. It was her words that often kept Caelum on the straight and narrow. It was her snippets of wisdom Caelum refused to let go off. Raise your head, even when you feel like the world is crumbling around, keep stepping forward. Don't try to outrun the fall out, instead climb out of it. When they think they have struck you down to the ground, go for their ankles. We mares are so often more than expected, but only when we keep our wits, and we remind them why the fairer sex isn't necessarily the nicer sex. Remember, child, the female fae are also the most mischevious. Her mother would always laugh quietly, wink at her daughter as if it was some great secret, even as her father would sputter over such nonsense, outraged that her mother would encourage her to act up, act out.
Father liked decorum, Mother liked surprising others.
Caelum had merged their two styles. She was proud and strong as her father, but aimed to surprise others with her strength. She'd let people kick her down, all the while plotting so that when the pushed her into just the right position, she would cause the most damage from there. But like her mother, she didn't wound with actions, she cut down with words, with politics, with the societal grace of a lady in power. A queen . . . A broken queen, A queen of nothing but ruin and despair. Some queen you are. You've killed your parents, your people, your kingdom . . . your child. That inner voice broke off, sudden, quick, realizing she'd pushed herself too far. That was a forbidden topic, even for herself. She didn't touch that, she didn't think on that. Few days did she dwell on her beloved child, her sweet Convallis.
He was her bright light.
And his memory kept her heart, her mind shielded from the darkest regret that plagued her worse than even Convallis. Where her heart, her love as a mother kept her mourning her own child . . . the Caelum of the past, the Caelum she stopped being before she met Calico, before she birthed Convallis, stayed in a state of mourning over the one being that had made her whole. His name was rarely whispered. His shadowed form haunted her nights, his laughing eyes, fang-split smirk that promised her fun, excitement, love for the rest of her life. The scream for her to get to safety, to leave him, to survive echoed in her heart, in her head, on those sleepless nights. She'd ignored those requests, she'd fought at his side. He'd died, she'd been enslaved. And that younger Caelum, the one who had been her purest self, had died with him.
She hadn't been the same after that.
And when Convallis passed as well, she understood the truth. She didn't deserve happiness. She brought only death and destruction to those she loved. She kept others at a distance now, her heart stone cold to keep herself from making that deadly mistake again. Love? Ha. She'd rather be alone. Of course, she had friends who had weaseled their way in, but she was cautious even with them. Coyotl she saw only when they crossed paths, she didn't let him seek her out - she didn't seek him out. Lu was a companion when healing was needed, or for a random tea date to catch up once in a blue moon, but even she was kept from truly being part of Caelum's heart. She didn't let others in anymore.
Why when it would only hurt them.
Hurt her.
Her thoughts were spiralling, and it forced her wings to stop as she hovered in the air, shaking her head. White clouded her gaze, the ivory tresses dancing against the sky as she fought every emotion down, buried it deep in her chest, locked in a box, buried under barbwire. Not healthy, no. But Caelum knew unleashing that darkness, working through it would destroy her. She couldn't do it . . . not alone. And she wouldn't let another get close enough to help, to assist, to heal. She was fine the way she was anyway. She was still moving, still alive. She hadn't lost the will to survive. So why dig up what would hurt. It was easier to ignore it. Easier for her to paint on the smile. A picture perfect doll to place on the shelf, a painted smile, and wooden gaze. Closed off, but pretending that everything was okay.
No one needed to know it was a sham.
Resettled, her picture perfect facade back into face, a practiced smile that no longer looked fake after testing it with her reflection over and over again until she got it right, her wings fluttered once more, fairy dust trailing behind her like a trail of faint, iridescent glitter. The moonlight streamed down, casting her blue-roaned hue almost silver, washing out her hair to a shining ivory, as rich, as bright as the moon itself. Calm. Quiet. Dead. Much like herself inside. She didn't know where she was going, she didn't really care. In the end, she would go back home, she would curl up alone, and she'd wake up to repeat it. Lonely, always so lonely. The perfect picture of aristocracy, a princess who locked the door to her tower herself. Because it was easier to be alone. Less painful when you were always lonely. Was it even loneliness anymore when you grow to expect it, to welcome it?
Her gaze fell briefly.
Another was illuminated beneath the glow of the moon, off to the side of the creek she had been following since she'd veered off from Veneror Peak. She paused,, tilting her head curiously, hoovering in the air, before she spoke gently, quietly but respectfully, "Oh, greetings. I was not expecting to come across another while traveling. I hope I have not startled you, I did fly up out of nowhere after all." She lowered herself with a flutter of her wings, delicate hooves touching down on one of the rocks of the creek, water bubbling around her as she balanced carefully, wings out to the side, almost like a dragonfly. The fae tilted her head, the painted on smile that no longer looked fake, the light in the eyes that hid the dark away. A perfect construct, to hide the inner turmoil where no one could reach it, not even herself, "My name is Caelum, a medic of Denocte. Might I inquire your name?"
The perfect facade of a mare with it all together.
Such a joke.
"Speech" Thoughts
@Creamsicle Notes: I figured the fae would do well in this thread.
picture, picture, smile for the picture
pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?
everyone thinks that we're perfect
please don't let them look through the curtains
The speckled light of the moon cast a silver hue over the spotted brute. There was no chill in the air yet still, as a breeze came, bringing with it the sweet scents of summer, Creamsicle shivered. He sighed softly, turning his face up toward the starry heavens, watching the fiery balls of light twinkling in the clear sky above. He loved nights like this, where the sky was so clear you could see straight across the universe - or so it seemed. He often found himself wondering about what lingered out there, way beyond the stares. Was the universe endless, expanding into nothingness, much like the ocean seemed to do? He had seen many oceans in his lifetime. He had seen the way the sea and the sky met at the horizon, becoming one, a partnership that must be eternal. Forever. It must be nice, that kind of love, that kind of companionship. He doubted he would ever experience anything like it, for what was he but just a young man who had been a nomad for the majority of his life? He had no special skills. No special abilities. He was quite plain compared to some other equines he had met in his travels. He wasn't ugly, but he also was not extraordinary. He was simple. A simple man with simple wants and needs. He just wanted one thing - to be happy. Of course, he had to go and pick the hardest thing in life to ever achieve. Happiness evaded him. At least he was good at pretending...
A strange sound caught his attention then and he looked down from the sky, looking around him. It sounded like wings fluttering rapidly, large wings. Horse-sized wings. It had not been often that he and his family had run into equines with wings, so he was curious and eager to meet this potential winged equine. Yet even with the soft flutter of wings warning him of their approach, when he saw her, he still spooked slightly. He jumped, stumbling over his hooves, but despite the fumble, a polite and warm smile spread across his face. He took his sadness and shoved it down. Swallowing it down into his belly, the taste bitter. It weighed heavy in his stomach, making him feel sluggish and slow, but at least he could get himself to smile. "Oh, greetings. I was not expecting to come across another while traveling. I hope I have not startled you, I did fly up out of nowhere after all." Her voice was soft and sweet, polite in her greeting. "Oh, it's quite alright," the stallion replied with a light chuckle, "What's life without a few surprises, right?"
He watched her lower herself from the air, watched her land on a rock within the creek and balance herself upon it. He grinned, bright emerald eyes twinkling in the moonlight as he quietly observed her. "My name is Caelum, a medic of Denocte. Might I inquire your name?" He nodded, introducing himself warmly. "My name's Creamsicle." He paused, his head cocking to the side slightly. He'd not heard of Denocte. That must be one of the Kingdoms here or something, he figured. "Forgive my ignorance, but what is Denocte? Is that where you live?"
places, places, get in your places
throw on your dress and put on your doll faces
everyone thinks that we're perfect
please don't let them look through the curtains
She feels the caress of Summer still.
Perhaps it has already begun to live inside her. A phantom memory that remains just outside of her reach. A melody that sounds familiar, or a scent that she recognizes but cannot place. It was odd, to think the heir of Summer itself didn't want to embrace the season she was blessed by. But could one blame her, she was also the one who fell it. Oh, how Summer would leave a melancholy twang in her belly, souring in her mouth where once she embraced it. She hoped, almost feverishly, that when the time came, when she healed from the pain and suffrage she forced upon herself, she might dance in that light again.
For now, she waited quietly for fall.
She hadn't initially intended for company, not when she set out, not really. And yet, here she was, glancing down upon a spotted stallion, startled to have crossed paths, her expression touching with soft embarrament, gentle concern, to see him spook, stumbling slightly. Her ears flicked forward, chocolate gaze observing the fellow, "Oh, are you alright? I am so, dreadfully sorry to have startled you." Yet he smiled, his own greeting followed by a light chuckle, and she had to offer a faint smile at the idea of life without surprises. There's been some surprises she could have done with out, "As long as it is a good surprise, I can understand the sentiment." She mused with a light and airy laugh. Carefree, open, welcoming.
She felt like she was broadcasting a lie.
A well practiced lie, so naturally she could even trick herself some days. But a lie nonetheless. Still, she fluttered down to rest upon a rock, avoiding the land that would have erupted in flowers as soon as she touched it. It didn't stop the light dotting of lily pads and flowers that bloomed up where the fae dust from her wings touched down, an unfortunate development she hadn't expected. She distracts herself with his name. Creamsicle. Perhaps it was proof she was becoming so used to this odd land, that the name didn't feel as foreign as it might have when she first came to Novus. Instead she elegantly dips her head, a sweeping curtsey more fit for a ballroom than a creek. But he asks about Denocte. And this time her smile is real, so bright it puts her fake one to shame, "Yes, Denocte is the home for the Night Court, on the other side of the Arma Mountains. It is . . . Home." And for the runaway fae queen, that was priceless.
picture, picture, smile for the picture
pose with your brother, won't you be a good sister?
everyone thinks that we're perfect
please don't let them look through the curtains
