d'Artagnan

the

NightShade

After the herd meeting had come to a close, d’Artagnan had wandered away from the Basin briefly to think on everything that had happened. He ended up sheltering by the Frozen Arch as he watched a blizzard roll in from the west, it was probably about midday, but it was hard to tell with the winter days so dark. It was glum and freezing, but the shade liked the Frostfall season, it almost seemed to wash away everything that had happened that year and brought with it a new year.

One without Kou.

It was almost becoming a habit for him to visit an old memory now and then; today it was the turn of the frozen glacier and the day he had found his equally frozen Nurse. As always, his heart broke when he remembered she would not be leaning into him again for warmth and no matter how far he roamed, he would never stumble upon her. With every memory that he dredged up he would break his heart all over again until it got to a point that he blocked every memory of her.

Stop.

This wasn’t what he was here for.

With a sigh, he thought back to the herd meeting and his new role. He found it almost funny that the Basin had grown a strong bond in defeat, but now in this so-called victory they were divided. Like winning the battle, but losing the war, so far they had won a single prisoner and nothing else. They were warriors of the north not cheap mercenaries to be called upon in a tight spot. By the sounds of it, there wasn’t even a tight spot to begin with. Perhaps he should try wielding a little influence over these soldiers he was now in charge of. No more marching into pointless battles and, if they marched, the reward would be worth the trek down the mountain. Time had come to put aside the grump in the cave.

On that thought, he quickly made his mind up to throw a warriors gathering, as much as he despised these little get-togethers, the shade had to admit he knew very little of the Basin’s army. He knew Ki’irha at least and his cousin Déodat. The rest were all but a mystery, it was time to get to know them better, what they could do and what they couldn’t do.

Mind made up, he waited for Aramis to return from hunting.

---

@[Mesec] oh look its fathers day! ;D <3

Poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy.

d'Artagnan

the

NightShade

During the wait his mismatched eyes zoned in on a dot on the horizon that steadily got closer to him over the passing of time. Soon it was close enough for him to make out the familiar silver on black, those haunting wings and his eyes that shone like hers. As he observed his son he noted that there wasn’t much of Mesec that was reminiscent of his father and perhaps only his build of Arab and Hanoverian made him look like d’Artagnan. It was the shade’s typical stamp on his progeny, a well-sculptured and almost delicate face to go with long legs and a strong, short neck. The Moon and Kou had shared similar breed traits leading to all of the General’s children turning out in ways very much alike. For a long time, the red had viewed Mesec as his biggest mistake, a lapse in strength as he fell to the charms of a Goddess that had led to her leaving a tiny foal at his feet, with ugly wings and her silver marks all over him. She had even managed to mark him in the moons ominous colour. His flank flaunted the permanent kind of dancing half moons against a red sky. What if they had seen more of each other? Would he have eventually turned into a silver horse like one of her stars in the sky? Were all the stars in the sky her lovers once upon a time? He shuddered.

However, the last time he’d seen his demi-god son was when he had been facing down monsters to save a dragon. He had looked like something out of legend… More like a God than a mortal. Memories turn back to the days he had thought he loathed the child when instead he had hated himself. d’Artagnan had never hurt Mesec, he had even helped him to contact his mother at one point in time and it was in those moments that he felt more like a son than a mistake. Finally, on seeing him face down those monsters d’Artagnan had realized that Mesec had become much greater than he and a small moment of happiness filled his heart. At least the boy appeared to suffer little now he had reached adulthood. He had done quite well considering both his mother and father were murdering schemers.

"Mesec" he nodded to his son as he noticed how the boy lingered back from him. Aramis returned at that point, creeping in to stand beside the shade and take a look at the stallion he once knew as a young colt. "Don’t dither over there, I’m not going to eat you" he groaned as he touched the mental bond to his companion "look what I’ve done" d’Artagnan lamented.

"You know how different you were, don’t act regretful now" the hellion complained in response.

The Nightshade conceded. Aramis was right. Mesec had never been much like him, or his younger half sister Aviya for that matter, the red had learned that the two never got on that well. Sacre was much more like Mesec, always disappearing until one day he never came back. It appeared his children either went extremely left or extremely right. "Where do you dwell now? Have you been well… Since the dragon?"

---

@[Mesec] omg that picture bahaha that’s brilliant xD <33
FANKS SON!

Poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy.

d'Artagnan

the

NightShade

His son looked very much like his mother, so much so that d’Artagnan often wondered if his bitterness towards his son stemmed from the resemblance and reminded him of his weakness. The Nightshade had always thought, that if she wanted, the hag of the night could surely command him with the click of her tongue and it made him sick. He watched Mesec approach; the former Doctor’s gaze was unreadable just like his own emotions were indescribable. With the disintegration of the Plague, the splintering of old friends and the loss of Kou, d’Artagnan had been left with little to care for… Except perhaps this child (and the rest). This child who struck him with guilt and misgiving because, in truth, d’Artagnan too did not know where he stood with his own son and it hit him with unexpected pain. Had he grown fragile? Or perhaps had his madness hidden that fragility all along. In his ferociously driven need to run away from every problem, he had created his own monster to hide the cowering child that he once was from long ago and now he couldn’t stop it. He dropped his gaze from Mesec to the floor, frowning at the ground as if it held all the answers and one was going to jump up and smack him in the face. 

It took a moment, but he eventually raised his head slowly and tried to meet Mesec’s gaze as he spoke.

The Dragons Throat? Wasn’t that where Sacre was? The place that had taken him prisoner many seasons ago was now a haven for his own blood, how ironic.

"No… Thanks to you" it was odd and awkward, they had never had much of a relationship so finding the words to answer questions was much harder than usual. Yet, his tone was sincere for once even though he almost cringed away from saying it. "Those others helping you, are they like you?" Half God.

His attention turned to the creature on his back, a gift from mother; d’Artagnan never knew she did gifts. Apart from evening visits to unsuspecting stallions.

It was a Zephyr, the shade had seen them before, but this one looked fitting. Very Mesec. A bird of the night and iridescent, much like the moon.  These were often bonded creatures like his own hellion and born to live alongside their chosen four-legged friend. 

In the meantime, Aramis had become a little more curious, inching closer to Mesec and Lucius, with glittering eyes and an interested nose.

"Don’t, idiot." d’Artagnan grumbled down their mental bond.

"I was just admiring" Aramis returned the grumbling, licking his lips before sitting back onto his haunches in a disgruntled manner as the General sighed. Mesec returned his wings to their higher position and the Hellhound looked on in regret. "Scrawny thing" the Nightshade commented on impulse before checking himself with sudden after thought "he looks like you" wait no. That wasn’t quite what he meant "I mean, like the moon and the night, you both- ah" never mind. d’Artagnan shook his head as Aramis shot him a side glance "that was woeful" he commented dryly "I’d stick to being a shit father" the hellion concluded much to the Nightshade’s displeasure.

It was moments like this that d’Artagnan needed Kou.

Swiftly, he moved on.

Family? Basin? If only Mesec knew the full extent. Maybe he did but was playing dumb. Yet, it was a hard story to re-tell for the red stallion. "Apparently we helped invade the Hidden Falls. I wasn’t involved, it’s said the battle was a short one and we didn’t really gain much from it" the shade shrugged, not really agreeing with the pointless march down the mountain. "Those in the Worlds Edge wanted to flee from your mother" he didn’t blame them really, though d’Artagnan wasn’t all that concerned about her murdering tendency. Not with his own track record. Poor Mesec, born to two murderous parents.

"Aviya still lingers around here somewhere, I think, though the rest…" he paused. The painful bit was next. "Kou died" he uttered, trying his best to control the hurt that the words brought him. It felt wrong to say it out loud and it dredged up unwanted memories of her bloodied body strewn across the floor. "You have a new half sister, Ráeru" his lips managed a small smile "she looks just like Kou, if you see her, you’ll probably recognize her" he shrugged again. The filly was the perfect blend of the former Doctor and the once Nurse, but with her birth came death and d’Artagnan found it difficult to linger on her for long.

"Have you not seen your half brother? He lives in the Throat too" perhaps Mesec didn’t know. The Demi-God was the oldest of five siblings and left at a young age. He wasn’t even sure Sacre knew as d’Artagnans relationship with his kids was that vague he couldn’t even remember if he told him or not.

Without Kou, d’Artagnan was long lost at sea.

[ooc: sorry its a bit disjointed D: and uber late. -wails-]

Poison is in everything, and no thing is without poison. The dosage makes it either a poison or a remedy.