[AW] a winding, weaving fate

[Pavetta]

she woke. cold, hungry… bleeding? fuck, she thought drowsily. her leg throbbed, the metallic stench of blood in her nose. her eyes were still closed, only light and shadow flickered behind her eyelids. she switched her ears; a murmuring stream nearby. she remembered, vaguely, being chased—no—hunted. the fog, the marsh, the creature on her heels, slashing and clawing and screeching. the chase had been exhilarating and the closest to death pavetta had ever been. it did not find me such easy prey after all, for here I am, alive, she thought triumphantly.  but the blood—she quickly sobered. her eyes flashed open, pupils dilating. the sun had not yet breached the horizon but the red dawn was not far off, for the horizon was flooded with a sliver of saturated light. it would not take long for something else to pick up her scent. she needed to find somewhere safe  where she could eat, drink, and heal. pavetta attempted to rise but the pain in her hind leg overcame her and she sank back into the soft grass. she didn’t want to rise, not yet. it felt so nice, so soft and cool. the grass amid melting snow was wet with dew, beading her silver skin in pearls of water. melting snow? snow in the middle of a scorching Rift summer? she lurched instantly to her hooves, ignoring the thrill of pain in her leg. everywhere she looked, signs of a sleepy spring. green buds curling from tree branches, baby grass emerging along the whispering stream. steam curled lazily from the surface of the water and willows swayed along the bank. something was very wrong. pavetta shut her eyes, shaking her head. remember, she thought desperately, what happened that night? the hunt, the chase, the flight…a flash of green light and then blackness. a portal had opened and she had leapt fearlessly, without thinking, leaving both the pursuer and everything else she had ever known behind for good. pavetta stumbled unsteadily towards the stream and drank deeply. she could feel the numbness setting in, the panic billowing in her lungs. a thick fog covered her mind. rest, she thought, I must rest, and then decide what to do. she limped into the willows. they created a small cove of woven branches and she should be hidden from sight, unless someone decided to follow the trail of blood in the melting snow, of course. there was not much to do about that and so she collapsed inside, wondering where the mysterious portal in the Rift forest had taken her.

@sid

[Somnus]

SOMNUS

The ‘Forest of Lovers’, some called it, although Somnus couldn’t fathom why. Supposedly it was a place of intimate encounters, of passionate love making between two, or more, souls who loved one another dearly enough to attempt to procreate. In his opinion, it was all rather foolish and asinine. Why seek out a forest to bed then one you love? Why have one forest designated for love making? What was the appeal? Bitterness, of course, had absolutely nothing to do with his opinions, thank you very much. Yet had it been up to him, he would’ve avoided the lush forest and probably remained holed up in the citadel, but since learning to fly, Alba had been excited to explore the forested areas of Novus with an innocent eagerness that Somnus didn’t have the heart to squander.

As it were, Alba fluttered on ahead, dipping and diving through the air and weaving through trees with the remarkable silence of her kind, all rich golds and soft creams. Somnus watched her cautiously, his steps light, nimble legs carrying the dunalino tactician through the woods, never too far behind his bonded. The premature grass was damp from the moisture of melting snow, but there were still sections of the forest where the earth was covered with a thin layer of white. Over time it would all melt away, when spring was in full bloom, but that was a few weeks ago. Life was beginning anew; small buds of green bloomed upon the barren trees, fresh shoots of grass poking their way through the damp soil. Moist earth could be scented upon every breath, and the birds… They sang in the dawn’s early light, welcoming yet another day.

It was Alba, however, who first spotted the trail of blood. The barn owl’s vision was immaculate, perfect in spotting every detail, every flaw. The drops of red stood out against the melting snow, and curiously the young owlette fluttered just above the ground, beady black eyes assessing what was before her with a calculating stare. Copper infiltrated her sense of smell, the familiar scent of blood, and with a shriek she jerked into the air with a mighty flapping of wings. ’Blood!’ Came her cry of warning to her bonded, immediately whirling back the way she had come to reach Somnus’ side. ’Equine blood.’

The Regent frowned, emerald eyes darkening in concern. Blood? Here? This was no battleground, but surely that would not stop anyone from making it one.

“Hurry.” They did not dawdle. Alba, Oriens bless her, sensed his urgency and took to the skies once more, darting in between trees with Somnus at her back. She would be the one to follow the trail, leading Somnus along, from where the trail had strangely appeared seemingly out of nowhere before following it to a blooming willow. There, nearly hidden beneath swaying branches and shadow, was the crumpled form. Verdant eyes narrowed in assessment, wondering just where she had come from and what had harmed her. Her scent was nothing of the likes he had ever came across before; it reeked of a place of shadows, of mystery, of darkness… She was definitely not from Novus, that was certain.

Clearing his throat, Somnus beckoned towards the crumpled female with a soothing tone to his lilted accent, hesitant to get too close for a proper examination lest she retaliate. “We mean you no harm. Are you alright?”

@Pavetta

[Pavetta]

Pavetta drifted in and out of feverish visions, lingering somewhere between foggy consciousness and restless sleep. She dreamed of a pyre in the starry night and flashes of green light mingled with red blood. She woke abruptly, stirred from the depths of her uneasy nightmares by a voice. A fine, mannered voice. Polished sleek like black obsidian. She knew that kind of voice; such fair vocals usually belong to a hoity toity lord with ridiculous silky hair and a pompous, self-righteous attitude. She had met plenty of them during her time with the priestesses on the mountain where they sought to court and woo her. She jerked more upright, muscles tense, preparing for fight or flight. Her injured leg would allow her neither option, realistically, but Pavetta never was one to adhere to realistic expectations. What did this one want? He may say he meant no harm, but velvety, soothing voices often had underlying motives. “Do I look alright to you?” she snapped, unable to keep the venom from straining her voice. What kind of dolt followed a trail of blood and then proceeded to ask if she was alright? And we? She did not hear a second voice nor a second set of hooves; could not see anyone near the golden stallion. “And what do you mean by we? Stay back! Are you rabid?” she asked suspiciously, peering through woven branches, searching for flecks of foam on his golden lips and finding none. She relaxed slightly, but a sudden spasm of pain caused her to seize up again.  Despite her instincts to repel him and his silky voice, he did seem genuinely concerned. “Sir,” she said through grit teeth, mustering up her most polite, lady-like voice possible, “I apologize for my poor manners. Surely you’re not rabid and I don’t judge those on a different scale of reality, if you know what I mean.” Merely crazy, hears voices in his head, she thought. I can handle that. “Indeed I am not alright, you are most astute. I require assistance. More specifically, a plant…violet thistles with magenta leaves.” But would the plant with medicinal properties grow here as well? She suddenly remembered she was no longer in the Rift, no longer in the familiar. “I’m not sure if such a plant exists, here…" She grimaced, glancing at her leg and then back at the golden stallion. His wing feathers were ablaze with the dawn’s rays. “Would you and your, er, friend mind terribly? I’m sure you and your, er, companion, have more important things to do than looking for a plant that may or may not exist.”

@Somnus

[Somnus]

SOMNUS

In all of his days spent in Novus thus far, Somnus had yet to once encounter someone with such hostility and vehemence as the striped maiden who had sought refuge beneath the hanging branches of the willows. Brows rose in intrigue before keen verdant eyes narrowed in speculation, and above him, Alba’s mottled wings beat with indignation before she reached out with growing talons to perch upon the curve of his rump, feathers ruffled. The young owl let out a sharp hiss! towards the ungrateful stranger, before ending on a loud, echoing pop! Her beady black eyes stared towards the striped lady, judging and harsh.

’She’s angry,’ Alba thought bitterly, very clearly displeased that her consideration and efforts at seeking out this injured soul had gone so underappreciated, ’We should leave her.’

The Regent hardly resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and instead kept his face in a neutral mask. A politician’s poker face. ’No,’ he thought back, about to do no such thing despite her brazen attitude and unnecessary sarcasm, ’We are better than that, Alba. Better than them.’ Better than so many others who would take one look at this pitiful, pain-ridden creature seeking solace in blood and snow and turn on their haunches and leave her to the wolves. She was in pain, clearly, her leg a wretched mess, and in good conscience the tactician could not leave her. Would not leave her, cruel words or not.

“Be still,” he stated soothingly, finding no desire to rebuke her or comment for her previous harsh words, clearly spat in the throes of fear and desperation. With time, her tone changed, and he dared a step closer as he attempted to duck beneath the low branches of the willow tree. It was still not genuine, still forced, but Somnus wanted to help her even though she so defiantly did not trust him. That was fine. There were more important things at stake. “Let me see, please.”

Sharp emerald eyes peered down at the torn flesh of the woman’s leg. He was no medic, no caretaker, his strengths in his silver tongue and vast mind, but he knew enough about field medicine to recall what was needed to staunch the blood-flow and ease her pain. The Regent’s gaze snapped upwards to meet the fierce lavender of the striped lady’s own eyes, and he frowned thoughtfully. “I’m unfamiliar with the plant that you speak of, but I know of some that will suffice. Alba.” At the sound of her name, the barn owl upon his rump perked up to attention, prepared to be useful. “Please fetch some bee balm and blue vervain. Quickly now.” The Citadel wasn’t far, only to the north of their immediate location, and since finding her wings, Alba was remarkably swift and powerful in the skies. She would make it there and back in less than an hour.

Alba gave another hiss, this one far softer than the last, but she stretched out her dawn-hued wings and with a piercing shriek! did the barn owl take to the sky, wings beating the air in the silent way that only her kind could. Somnus spared her a glance as she departed. This would be the first time they would be apart since he had obtained her as a nestling. The Regent dutifully looked back towards the injured mare, and spoke. “That was Alba. My name is Somnus. I live in Delumine; it’s a land not too far north from here. It won’t take her too long to return with what herbs we need, but, if you allow… I’ll do what I can to clean your wound in the meantime. I promise that I won’t harm you.”

Slowly, and with considerable elegance and poise befitting of his station as the right hand of the Dawn King himself, Somnus lowered himself onto his knees by the woman’s side. “Can you tell me how you were injured?” Clearly a laceration of some kind… Caught in a trap? Or caused by a predator, perhaps? But this seemed far more ruthless than the predators that he was familiar with… How very queer.

@Pavetta

[Pavetta]

p a v e t t a - - - The golden sir remained unperturbed by her hostile manner. Instead of reacting harshly, he patiently urged her to settle, sternly, soothingly. He stepped closer and brushed under the willows. Pavetta resisted the urge to recoil. He asked in a polite, yet strained voice, to see her wound. She nodded slowly and relaxed, willing her taut muscles to slacken as he examined the damage.  “Oh,” she murmured. Somnus. Alba. Pavetta noticed the barn owl perched calmly on the golden stallion. So he had not been talking to himself after all. How had she missed the bird? Instantly, she felt foolish. Childish. She eyed his companion curiously. Was it possible for owls to glare?  “Your owl does not seem to like me much, Somnus,” she commented dryly as the owl hissed at her. Pavetta's heart no longer rattled in her chest; the adrenaline coursing through her veins seemed to have faded. Now all she felt was an inherent tiredness, weariness seizing her muscles and the fog of pain clouding her mind once again. He assured her that his owl would return shortly. “I have never heard of the realm of Delumine...” If the thistle plant did not exist here, then they were surely no longer in the Rift.  Panic. Numbness. She did not know which she felt more strongly. Somnus settled gently by her side beneath the willows, folding his gold wings in an elegant, practiced manner. The grace in which he managed his wings was admirable. It must be a sight to see him launch into flight. He promised her she would come to no harm. “And I promise I shan’t harm you.” As if she could in this state. A slight twitch of her pale lips was all to hint at her mild, playful sarcasm. He offered to help cleanse her wound and she nodded in reply. She couldn’t reach the wound to clean it herself and it would be foolish and prideful to decline his freely offered assistance. “I ought to stand in the stream for a moment, first.” The cold, clear water would cleanse and rinse the grime and mud caking the angry gash.  She pondered his question for a moment, recalling the shadows and fog, the hot breath of death upon her heels. “A marsh creature of some sort or another, they are quite a common nuisance—,” she almost said where I’m from but she didn’t want to think about that quite yet. “Anyway, the sneaky bastard caught me unawares and snagged my leg before I escaped.” She didn’t mention the portal. She wasn’t ready to come to terms with her precarious, stranded situation. Instead, she figured she ought to apologize for her appalling behavior. How the priestesses would have lectured and scolded her!   “I’m sorry, you know, for before.” She met his eyes calmly, rose quartz on emerald green. “I thank you for your help. My name is Pavetta. Are you a healer-knight of some kind, Somnus?" isn't it a little late, shouldn't you fly away?  little dove with cigarettes ---

[Somnus]

SOMNUS

A rueful smile pulled at the corners of the Regent’s lips despite his best efforts of keeping a neutral expression. “Alba is a rather finicky creature, I’m afraid.” It was certainly one way of describing her, which was for certain. The barn owl had no qualms in ever letting her displeasure known, and didn’t care a lick for who might be offended from her brash behavior. No matter. Alba was young yet and had plenty of growing left to do, and Somnus could not fault her for her way of thinking. Maturity came with age, after all. Age and experience.

Curious verdant eyes glanced upwards, regarding the striped woman almost curiously for a moment. If she had no knowledge of Delumine, then she was clearly not from Novus. He wondered where she might be from, and what might have brought her here… But to reach so deeply within Novus and have no wings? And in her injured state? Curious. Later, if she was willing, he would inquire for more information to satisfy his curiosity, but not force or demand.  Never that. He was far too much a gentleman to demand answers to his inquiries, especially from an injured stranger.

From there he listened, nodding his head during her tale. The Regent’s handsome face grew pinched with uneasiness, trying to conjure up an image of this horrific beast that she spoke of. Nothing like it existed within this region. At least to his knowledge. Perhaps he would have Ulric send out some of their warriors to secure the border between the Creek and Delumine’s forests, just to be on the safe side. The last thing they needed was for some crazed, slavering beast to terrorize the locals and destroy the wildlife.

Keeping his voice soft and patient, Somnus finally breached his silence. “I’m relieved that it did not manage to snag more of you, if the beast is as fierce as you say. I was unaware that we had such a menace in these parts.” Her leg, stained in red blood and mangled with torn flesh, looked terribly painful and puffy with swelling from the trauma, but she would heal. She would survive. It wasn’t life threatening, and with proper medical attention, Somnus did not believe that it would cripple her for life, either. Perhaps untreated… The thought was immediately cast aside. No. She would be fine. He could not lose another to senseless violence, stranger or otherwise.

She went on, introducing herself, and the golden tactician gave a polite nod of his head. Pavetta. “Pavetta.” It was a confirmation of understanding, tasting the name on his tongue with elegant vocals and filtering it away to recall, along with her face. She was a pretty thing, in a valiant, visceral kind of way, unique in her brindles and barring. Abruptly then, he paused, brows raised as he regarded Pavetta with a look, glittering emerald meeting sly rose-quartz. He recalled briefly a conversation of his past, upon encountering his beloved, beautiful King for the first time, and found himself echoing his late-King’s words. “Please, think nothing of it. What's done is done… No, I am nothing so grand and reputable as a healer-knight, good Pavetta, though I wish I could say so. I am merely a servant of the Dawn Court. Of Delumine.” And he was. Regent or not, those in the Regime were the ultimate servants to the Dawn Court, to Delumine, to Oriens.

Then, recalling that she was unaware as to what or where Delumine was, the golden Regent cleared his throat. As much as he wished to offer her explanations, they truly did need to tend to her wound. “Do you think that you can stand? Lean upon me if you can, and I will lead you back to the stream so that we may clean you wound. Perhaps then I can tell you a bit of where you are. It must be frightening.”

@Pavetta <3

[Pavetta]

p a v e t t a - - - “As am I. If not for the portal that appeared…” she shook her head, unwilling to imagine what might have happened otherwise. For all her wild fiercness and raw strength, she was not a particularly refined or calculating fighter.  “There aren’t such creatures here?” A world without monsters? It was difficult for Pavetta to imagine such a place. “How strange,” she murmured, mostly to herself. The fear of being in a new realm was very real, but perhaps not so overwhelming as before. Somnus was here now. And he seemed a steady sort, deeply rooted and unwavering. She wondered at his steely calm, his steady resolve. He was unshaken, unchanging. She saw flashes of stone warmed by sunlight and still water in her mind. He was overall a wholesome feeling. Earth and air combined, somehow. Who is he? Not a healer-knight, he assured her. Well, she wasn’t so sure he wasn’t. He suggested they go to the stream to rinse her wound, asking her if she thought she could stand. “Yes, alright.” She closed her eyes briefly, sucking in a deep breath, bracing herself for the pain. She lurched unsteadily to her hooves, swaying as she fought to right herself. Somnus was there. Rooted, unwavering. He is like a tree, she thought. He lent her his strength and she accepted. His skin felt warm and sure against hers. She had long since forgotten what contact with another felt like. She could hardly even recall the last moments she had spent with her husband, it seemed so long ago now that she had watched his pyre burn. Months alone in the wild had turned her cold and callous, and she was glad for this stranger's kindness, his selfless patience. With his guidance and support, Pavetta managed to leave the willows behind and stumbled ungracefully into the stream. She gasped at the cold shock of the water then waded farther out until the water covered the gashes on her hind leg. She stood silently for a few moments, leaning gently into Somnus for support (careful not to bend his wing feathers) and enjoying the pearly splendor of dawn and the murmuring of willows and water. Their breaths and bodies steamed slightly in the brisk morning air, rising from their backs like strands of mist. The cold water numbed her injured leg quickly. The pain receded slightly. She sighed, feeling at ease for the first time in a while. “I find it difficult to believe you are a mere servant, Somnus,” Pavetta said at last, a melancholy tone in her voice. She knew the hollow, empty life of a lowly servant and could not picture this magnificent golden creature as such. She knew far too well what a life of servitude meant from her years with the priestesses in the mountains. A life where she had no true self, no real meaning. She had been raised to serve and if she could not serve, then she would be disposed of. And disposed of she was, as soon as it was realized her magic would never manifest. Married off to a lord she had never met. And then she had served him too, because it was all she had ever known. But perhaps it could be different here. She was not so sure she wished to return to the realm of shadows she had left behind. “What is this Dawn Court you speak of? It is an Order of some kind?” she asked hesitantly, wariness in her rose-quartz eyes. What weird twist of fate had brought her here? And why? isn't it a little late, shouldn't you fly away?  little dove with cigarettes ---

[Somnus]

SOMNUS

Through it all, Somnus remained right where he promised he would be; at Pavetta’s side. His heart lurched as she did when the pain became too much, his breath catching with every grimace and stumble, shouldering up against her so that she would not fall. With unfathomable patience he remained at her side, his pace slow, measured, taking a step only when she did. It was obvious that her injury rendered her practically crippled, and his heart ached at the sheer amount of pain that she was so clearly suffering. If only he were a healer-knight, having come prepared to treat a wound of such severity… Guilt had never tasted so bitter, despite knowing that this was in no way his fault.

’Hurry, Alba,’ he silently begged, knowing that the barn owl would hear him despite their distance. Determination filtered through their bond, raw and fierce, and the dunalino’s dark lips thinned with tension. She had heard him, but that alone would not ease Pavetta’s pain.

“Easy, now,” Somnus soothed, accent thick with concern, “Just a little further.” From the shadows of the willows did they hobble, their pace slow and subdued. Through it all he was right there; for every stumble and gasp, his expression growing more pinched with each and every one. Inevitably they stepped into the cold waters, hooves splashing, and ultimately coming to a stop when the currents were high enough to cover and soothe Pavetta’s injury with frigid, numbing liquid. “There we are now. I won’t let you fall.” They stood together, two unlikely compatriots, watching as dawn brought forth a new day to Novus. The warmth of their bodies lingered despite the chilly morning air, and pressed so intimately against the dappled woman’s side as he was, it was easy to feel the tension slowly leak from her frame as her pain surely began to numb and dissipate. The cold water had to be helping, and even then, Somnus did not move to step away or put any distance between them.

Pavetta’s words drew the stallion’s attention away from the shifting colors of the sky, and he instead focused keen verde upon suffering rose-quartz. Despite himself, he smiled, but the expression was modest and subdued. It was impossible to miss the melancholy of her voice and the haunted look to her eyes, and he hoped to assist in alleviating her mental anguish, just as he had done with her physical. “Perhaps I am not a servant of the traditional sense, but I willingly serve my land all the same. Body and mind I direct towards the safety, benefit, and longevity of Delumine and her people.”

Then, hoping to placate Pavetta’s curiosity, as well as hoping to distract her from her injury, he went on, his voice taking on what he hoped would be a therapeutic, soothing tone. “Not an Order, no. You are in Novus. Within Novus stands four Courts; Dawn, Day, Dusk, and Night. Delumine is the province which houses the Dawn Court. I serve our land as Regent, second beneath King Kasil. Solterra is the province of Day, Terrastella is the province of Dusk, and Denocte is the province of Night. Each has its own King or Queen to guide them.” Hopefully that answer would be satisfactory enough, given that it was quite the bland explanation.

Hoping to learn a bit more about the rich grey mare at his side, Somnus began his own set of inquiries, beginning with the most important. “… How are you feeling now?” Surely she was still in a considerable amount of pain and discomfort, but the clear, cold water had to be helping alleviate some of that. Then, he pressed on, hoping that his curiosity wasn’t unwelcome. “… Might I ask where it is you have come from, Pavetta?”

@Pavetta – I seriously cannot get enough of her or your writing. <3 <3

[Pavetta]

p a v e t t a - - - I won’t let you fall. A strange promise. Somehow she believed him. For the first time, Pavetta noticed certain shades of her late husband in Somnus’s stoic aspect. Serious and silent; laughter later rather than sooner. A soft voice that could silence a busy room; a proud bearing that was somehow humble at the same time. A lord among men. Somnus seemed warmer, though; sun through cloud after a spring rain. Her husband had possessed a temper like a mid afternoon thunderstorm, unpredictable and volatile. He had also been cold, uncertain how to express his feelings. Somnus seemed different, somehow. She had not known that men could have such softness about them, such carefulness. Pavetta felt it in the way he helped her to the stream, a gentle presence unwavering at her side. “You willingly serve? I suppose that does make a difference. So if you are not a servant, what do you receive in return for your services safeguarding the longevity of this Delumine?” Blunt, straightforward. She didn’t believe someone could serve willingly, and expect nothing in return. She had been born into a world where there was no give, only take. Pavetta shifted in the water so that her injured leg bore no weight, lightly moving it back and forth through the current so that the grime and grit would be rinsed from the wound. Novus. Pavetta pricked her ears at that. So it was true. She was no longer in the Rift, she was Elsewhere. Pavetta had only believed Elsewhere existed in fairy tales, a story made up by the Priestesses to scare children into behaving, otherwise they would be Banished to Elsewhere. She had not expected Elsewhere to be beautiful, had not expected this land of light and spring. Novus. “I see,” she said slowly, thoughtfully. Dawn, Day, Dusk, Night. Realms of power. Kings and queens. Where there was power and kings and queens, there was certainly war. Not so different than the Rift, after all. Somnus asked where she was from in a hesitant voice. “Oh, I’ve come from nowhere so grand as Novus. A realm called the Rift. It is a war torn place of shadow, monsters, and vengeful, deceitful gods.”  That are now rotting in their graves; some gods. “Valiant servants such as yourself are few and far between in the Rift.” Pavetta smiled faintly, her lips curling bitterly. “It would be more convenient for a passerby to leave me rather than aid me, because that would mean I would be dinner for the water nymphs and they may perhaps live another day. It’s a very dreary sort of place.” She shrugged all very matter-of-factly. “Perhaps you can tell me more of Novus later, if you find any brief respite from safeguarding the people of Delumine.” She desired more knowledge of this new land, but found she was feeling faint once more after speaking and didn’t wish to take up anymore of this noble stranger’s time.  Surely he had other places to be, better things to do, more damsels in distress to save. "Thank you for your help, I'll follow you to Delumine." And with that, she shuffled slowly after the regal pegasus and his owl. isn't it a little late, shouldn't you fly away?  little dove with cigarettes ---

@Somnus