There is only one other place in Terrastella that Charlie likes to be that is not the docks. And that place is the home of the Halcyon, the barracks, the training grounds. The two places are very different. One meant for sea and one for air. Even so, both places carry the same kind of excitement. Both loud, and bustling, and filled with equines that the filly would like nothing more than to grow up to be.
On the docks, it’s one old grumpy sailor with the worst mouth Charlie thinks she’s ever heard.
In the Halcyon, it’s Commander Marisol.
The barracks is exactly where Charlie had been when the letter had been discovered. Not by one, but by many. Now, Charlie might not have learned to read very well yet (and even if she could, that’s not to say she would understand the short-hand, cryptically written message anyway) but enough of the adults were going on about it with her hanging out just around the side of the building that she thinks she understands enough. What with their own theories and her love of adventure, there was no better combination in the world but for her to go on this daring search.
So that’s what she’s done. Though the day is almost still dark it is too early, the young pegasus follows the coastline away from the court, her vermillion eyes sharp and bright, with Indy nestled between her shoulder blades. They don’t speak while she runs, her too-long legs and bottomless energy making relatively quick work of the fields.
Oh, she has poked around too much for her own good. If any adult had known how much she stuck her nose in places it surely didn’t belong, she would be grounded to the court with a guardian. Good thing she’s too smart for that. (Perhaps more that she would not listen regardless, and would find a way to go out if it killed her).
Soon she is standing before the graves, none of which she really knows who they belong to. Charlie assumes anyone of the court, but perhaps it is only the Halcyon who are buried here. She slows to a near-trot, passing stone after stone, marked, unmarked, old and newer. She can feel Indy stir and raises one wing for the young Osprey to perch upon.
”Do ya see it?”
“Um, no. They said it was near someone called… Lore-can.” She tries to say the name she heard the adults talk about, but she’s sure if anyone was around they would correct her. Instead, she focuses on trying to find any graves with an L on them.
When she finds it, it’s not because she spots a gravestone she’s able to read, but because she almost ends up inside the empty grave. Charlie struggles to keep her footing with only one wing to balance her, and without throwing Indy off the other, but somehow she scrabbles backwards enough that she only teeters for a few moments before finding solid ground again. Her chest heaves and she can feel Indy clinging so tightly to her wing it almost hurts. “Okay, that was close.”
”You can say that again,” the fledgling mutters, abandoning her place on Charlie’s wing for fear of another incident. Indy makes her way to Charlie’s poll instead, settling down among the mess of thick black hair. “Sorry, Indy,” the girl says, taking a few cautious steps back (the only she might ever make in her life).
And she stands there and stares at the empty grave and the stone at the head of it and tries to make out what is written on it. But still, she doesn’t get what’s so special about this place.
The sky is bright and welcoming overhead, the sun warm on his dark skin. He doesn’t know how far he’s gone - surely he left the Night Court long ago, and has flown into some other territory. He had heard that there were other Courts here, one for each time of day, but he had yet to experience any of them.
For now, he simply flew, loving the feeling of the wind combing its fingers through his long, dark tresses. It was a good thing the gypsy from the market had offered to braid his forelock for him; the wind was especially wild today, throwing his mane and tail in the air behind him.
Sirius could fly forever; up and up and up, until his wings were made of stardust and he swam among the constellations. And then he would fly still further, to a different galaxy, a foreign world, a new life.
But there’s a sight that catches his attention from the air, pulling his gaze away from the blue and endless heavens, down to the earth. A field of stones, placed seemingly purposefully, fills his view. They stand in rows, like sentinels keeping watching over… something, he isn’t sure what. Sirius drifts lower and lower in the sky, his pale eyes scanning each tract of earth. The stones were all sorts of shapes, spaced evenly apart, and he thinks he might see shapes carved into their surfaces.
He doesn’t notice the tiny pegasus until he flies overtop of her, catching her within his shadow for the briefest of moments.
He turns at once, his large wings flaring. He nearly clips a gravestone with one wing, for a second flying on his side - but then he rights himself, and drops to the earth. The long grasses of the field muffle his landing, if only slightly, and SIrius folds his wings quickly to avoid hitting any other gravestones.
With a smile on his face and a skip in his step, he trots up to the young girl.
”Hello!” he calls, stopping when he comes alongside the grave that separates the two pegasi.
And only then does he realize that there’s a hole in front of this stone, not in front of the others. It’s longer than it is wide, and a mound of dirt is piled beside it - dirt that once filled the hole, he was sure. It was still soft-looking and damp, and smelled of the earth. He lets his muzzle trail along it, inhaling deeply.
”What’s this?” he asks, stepping forward until he balances on the edge of the strangely shaped hole by which she stands, staring down into its empty center.
hearts are breaking
wars are raging on
you’ve got me nervous
i’m at the end of my rope
hey, man, we can’t all be like you
i wish we were all rose-colored too
my rose-colored boy
@Charlotte ! who says timelines have to be realistic
i hope you don't mind!!
08-01-2019, 03:04 PM
Played by
Everyone [PM] Posts: 45 — Threads: 8 Signos: 0
Terrastella sleeps through the days of turmoil without a complaint--not a raincloud or the faintest thrum of an earthquake to testify that its dark, holy places are being dug up. The earth is calm and silent. Even as Susurro becomes pockmarked and scarred with more and more caverns, not much has come to show for it: everything the cadets and the strangers have turned up so far seems to be a red herring.
Until just the right stone is turned.
Some hoof knocks over a small grave marker. On the bottom plane, the granite is filthy with eons of dirt and overgrown moss. Underneath the grime it is inscribed with words and a design carved by a strange, careful hand. The art is simple: an empty, stylistic wave, from the froth of which rises a single link of chains with a cuff at the end.
The inscription underneath is somewhat harder to understand.
Just like Juliet it’s morning again. And lovers leap from the ward Which keeps them from each other, Just as it divides sea and city.
A pair of green eyes watch from the edge of the field.
Please PM me (RB) here or on Discord if you’ve got any questions! <3
![[Image: 13222742_95oVYzdeR5MVhK5.png]](https://file.toyhou.se/images/13222742_95oVYzdeR5MVhK5.png)
