i am a leaf on the wind

Today, she does not leave the Edge. It’s rare for her, this staying put here. But she knows if she keeps up and leaving, wandering Helovia like the nomad, than this place will never become home. It’s her own fault it’s not already home. She just couldn’t stomach how hard it’s been to start over. Not, not just hard. Miserable. Every time she hears a deep laugh, she thinks of Corbin. Every time she hears a high, needy whine, she thinks of Adelene (not so bad as Lyanna might pretend, because she misses her sister despite all their differences).
 
But they are gone. And it’s just her. And she cannot bring herself to move forward. To move past their ghosts and make her own life.
 
And then that realization makes her feel like a failure. Corbin wouldn’t be proud of her. He’d taught her to be strong. He’d taught her to fight and to control the wind (also gone, like everything else). He’s taught her to be, most important, herself. She can hear his voice in her head, chiding her. And then she’s stumbled into that damn shadow and he’d been there. Actually been there. Her feet his is buckskin coat, the world around them had erupted in flame.
 
It’d been a mirage, but it was better than nothing.
 
But today, she forces herself to stay. She’s at the edge of the kingdom, trying to learn her way around the broken glass wall. Trying to learn where the holes large enough to step through were. Not that she doesn’t just fly over the wall herself, but rather, because she does try to bring the occasional recruit back. And they don’t always fly. Besides, it seems like a good think to know. She had to try, after all, if anything was ever going to change. 

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

The sound of hoof steps pulls her from her study of the broken wall. She can’t help but wonder just what had happened to the beautiful wall. Yes, certainly, glass would break. But this didn’t look simply like old age. Had weather or war or something else entirely sent the wall into ruin? It must have been beautiful, when it stood whole once. How long ago was that?

She’s not entirely used to the fog around here. It’s not too dense in the area that she’s inspecting – purposefully, she likes forests, not fog – and the face that slips from the fog behind her at least proves to be a friendly, and somewhat familiar one. She’s starting to recognize the horses that call the Edge home, some better than others. She hadn’t really spoken to the mare that stands before her now, but she certainly remember the nearly-white mare, that scar across her eye.

She’d been the one to lead the glass staining. There’s probably still some various smears of color on Lyanna’s feathers, if she looks hard enough. And not for lack of trying to wash it off. Feathers stain really well, apparently. Oh well. It probably makes her fit in here more. Everyone is rather decorative and color splashed around Helovia.

She smiles at the other mare, nodding her head in acknowledgement that that is, in fact, her name. “It’s a pleasure to properly meet you,” she says, chuckling slightly at the old age joke. Sometimes, in truth, Lyanna forgets that she’s young. She feels a hundred years old after all that has happened. “And thank you for coming up with such a beautiful idea. It was, I admit, rather fun to get a little messy.” Not something Princesses were supposed to do, after all, and not something she did all that often. Not that it mattered now. She could be as paint splattered as she wanted.

“Ah,” she says, feeling almost sheepish, but willing to answer. “I figured it might be useful to know my way around it. I mean, I fly over often enough, but it probably couldn’t hurt to know where the larger holes are and such.” She’s always tried to learn the landscape, but especially now. She’s got so few friends here, she’s not entirely sure what else to do with herself. But she’s trying, finally. Really trying. Damn Corbin and his ghost. But she knows he’d be disappointed, and that is the one thing she can never do. Disappoint him. He’d been not only her brother, but her friend and her teacher. And if he couldn’t live, then she had to.

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

Lyanna spent far too much time wandering around, talking to random strangers here and there in conversations that don’t really lead anywhere. But of course, when you refuse to talk of your past and you have very little in the present to speak of, there’s not much left to talk about. And what good is the conversation about the weather? She needed to learn more of healing, probably. Needed to give herself more to do. But in truth, she didn’t know where to begin. Though somehow, that didn’t seem to matter much, as she’d managed a promotion anyway (a thought that both baffled and pleased her at once). At least her efforts meant something. 
 
“I wouldn’t have known,” she offers, when the mare admits it was a bit out of her comfort zone. Lyanna couldn’t have told you, from that painting lesson alone, that the Glazier was only recently promoted to that title. The conversation moves on to flight, and mention of a sister. She thinks, though she isn’t entirely sure, that Glasgow’s smile falters for a moment here. Because she can’t fly? Or because of something else entirely? Or maybe, Lyanna’s simply making things up.
 
She smiles easily instead,  “I can't say it isn't wonderful gift.” She would be lost without the ability to fly now. With the wind taken from her, it was the closest she ever felt to herself now. At least in the sky the wind held her up, brushed against her sky and she moved through the air. At least up there, she could pretend the currents holding her up were of her own making. She was almost whole, when she flew.
 
Almost.
 
“Both of my siblings had wings, white and teal tipped like mine.” Like Glasgow, she has no idea why she’s offering this information. Maybe because of that faltering smile and the one ear that flicks back on the pale mare. Offering a tidbit of her own information that might make it better somehow? If there was even anything that needed to be made better. She has no idea. Maybe, in truth, she just wants to admit that she had a family and that they are gone. Maybe she just wants to say it aloud so the weight of it all doesn’t pull her into the ground anymore. Yes, she’d told Auriel, but without any personal feeling attached to it. She’d told it like fact, and nothing more, and somehow that wasn’t the same.
 
But she isn’t about to simply start gushing her life story to some mare. So instead, she simply offers a piece of information in exchange for a piece freely given. That’s how conversations worked, anyway, so it only seemed fair.   “We were different in our powers. My brother controlled fire, and I controlled the wind.” And Adalene? Well, honestly, they weren’t sure what elemental affinity the girl had, but it didn’t matter now anyway. Adalene’s powers were gone, and so was Adalene.
 
The conversation shifts, and Lyanna’s smile grows a little brighter, a little less strained than it often is when she thinks of home. “I would love that, if you don’t mind.” 

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

They fall into conversation with relative ease. She hasn’t had something quite like this yet in her time in Helovia. Is it simply because she’s starting to feel more at ease in this new life? Or is there something in particular about Glasgow that invites conversation? In truth, she’s not sure. She didn’t fall into conversation like this with Alysanne, though perhaps that’s an unfair comparison. Alysanne found her on the border, when Lyanna hardly even knew where she was, let alone knew what to talk about. But still, even as the Moon Doctor becomes a closer friend, Lyanna doesn’t often find herself offering information so readily (though that is changing, lately).

Maybe everything just finally hurts less. Maybe. Though in truth, she finds that hard to believe. She just thinks it’s easier to forget about it, as her new life takes some semblance of shape. 

That sounds beautiful, Glasgow says, and Lyanna smile grows wistful. “Oh, it was amazing.” she admits, when the mare asks what it was like. “Impossibly free. I can still fly, of course, but the things I could do when I controlled the wind around me were far more impressive than anything I can do now. But also powerful, in a way I am not on my own.” This isn’t her being self-deprecating (though she finds, in her sorrow, she has a tendency for that). It’s just truthful. She is small, not particularly skilled in war or stealth, and hardly made of muscle. But with the power of the wind. “I could have leveled forests once upon a time. Not that I did, I love trees. But still, sometimes it was nice knowing that I could.”

She chuckles slightly. She’d never (purposefully) hurt a tree. Accidentally though, yes. Many times. The Glazier changes subjects now, talking of herself, and Lyanna flicks both ears forward, interested to learn more about the scarred mare. About another of her herd mates, because in truth, she’s been pretty lax in learning about them. Glasgow tells of her past; what both her and her sister had looked like. They sound, in a way, almost more like priests or prophets than simply diplomats. 

“I can believe it, actually,” she says, teal eyes looking at the other mare as if seeing exactly what Glasgow described. ”May I ask what happened? Though feel free to say no, I won’t be offended.” she says, knowing that some things are easier left unsaid. She wasn’t a fan of talking of her own past. Not the nitty gritty, anyway. Not the whispers of how Corbin’s blood soaked through his tent. Not the rumors that her mother pleaded and screamed for her life (it was so unlike her mother, Lyanna didn’t believe it, but the fact that others did still made her angry). She didn’t like to think of how her family would be remembered. They had not been unkind rulers. They had not deserved such a bloody death. And they did not deserve to be remembered as tyrants, which is how the rebels painted them.
 
Ah, the power of words and stories. It seems, to Lyanna, that Glasgow would understand that power. The power of the wind didn’t save Lyanna, but the power of words destroyed her.

Glasgow takes a step toward the wall, and Lyanna turns her head, watching where the other mare point. “Clever,” she says, having honestly never thought to look for places where the glass wouldn’t cut her. Why didn’t that cross her mind? Did she really care so little for herself now? 

She takes a step forward, examining the little sapling and the wall around it, rather amazed by how everything made eventually crumbled to the will of the Earth. “Were you here when the wall was whole? she asks, not even sure how long it’s been since the wall started to crumble. One day, perhaps, she’d know these things. 

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

If she’s being honest, it makes her sort of glad to find out she’s not the only one who doesn’t know all the history of this place. Sometimes she feels like the only new horse around (despite knowing that’s untrue). Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that new horses flood this place daily, and that she’s probably not the only one who doesn’t know what happened to the wall, or when it was built in the first place. Why anyone wanted a wall out of glass in the first place, for that matter. How strong could a glass wall really be?

Clearly not that strong, as evidenced by the ruins that were left behind.

But after another moment, Glasglow is talking again, answering Lyanna’s first question about her past. Lyanna flicks both ears in the Glazier’s direction, listening with rapt attention. Their stories are not the same – Lyanna’s and Glassglow’s – but there is a shared sorrow there. Lyanna doesn’t turn a pitying gaze on the gray mare, but when the story is done, she says “I’m sorry to hear that. But I am glad you got it off your chest, and rather flattered it was me you told.” There’s no pity, just understanding, in her voice. Because she does understand. She knows what it is like to lose everything.

“My sister was rather vain as well,” she offers, a story for a story. Passing understanding between the two mares, not comparisons. “though she did not have a job so important as spreading the message of gods. Morham had no gods, but my family was the ruling dynasty. Pegasi have always ruled Morham, and though other species have lived and held high ranks in that kingdom for centuries, they have never ruled.” And of course, that is the crux of the problem. Everyone wants power. As much as they can have. It is never enough to be close. It isn’t enough that the current rulers are fair and just. In the end, none of those things matter. Everyone just wants a crown on their heads.

“My sister was the youngest of three, and simply spoiled. Corbin, my brother, the older and heir to the throne. As is custom in Morham, he was sent into the army and marched off to a neighboring land due to an impending war. Rebels slit his throat while he was sleeping, and when my parents went to investigate, they were murdered in a coup. My sister and I, in truth, were lucky. A few servants heard and helped us escape. No scars, no beatings, just the loss of our powers. But we couldn’t hide nearby, the teal on our coats marks us as royalty in Morham. My sister disappeared when we arrived in Helovia, and didn’t tell me where she was going, and I wouldn’t know where to even look if I tried to find her.”

Perhaps she should have gone after her sister, but she doesn’t know where to begin. Adelene had been behind her in the Threshold one minute, and then gone the next. Maybe she should spend her life chasing after her sister, keeping the one piece of her family that she has left. But maybe, on some level, she is not that kind or good. She shakes her head slightly, “I haven’t really talked about that either.” Her smile is a bit crooked, something shared between souls that can begin to understand one another.

watch how i soar.

lyanna

i am a leaf on the wind

On some level, Lyanna can understand what it’s like to keep things bottled up. She didn’t have a whole city’s religion on her shoulders, but she was the oldest female in her family. Her brother would inherit the throne to Morham, and Lyanna would be “married” to a nearby herd to form an alliance. Who she managed to snag, as the phrase may be, determined how strong their ally would be, what kind of help they would have received. And as such, she was never allowed to be anything less than charming, anything short of beautiful (beauty in Morham was far plainer than Helovia), or anything that didn’t involve smiles and sunshine.
 
She’d only had Corbin, really. He was her rock, her shoulder, and the only one she could trust. In the wee hours of the morning, before the sun had come up, they often found themselves together. Walking and talking, reassuring and offering advice. Mostly he helped her, but sometimes, it worked in reverse. Without him, Lyanna didn’t have anyone else to turn to. Her sister was too spoiled, to young, too immature. She couldn’t go to her parents. His death took her only ally away, and not long after, it took her whole life.
 
Finding Glasgow, finding someone that was so easy to talk to, was a blessing she never expected to have. The mare listens with attention, as Lyanna had listened to her as well. And when the story comes to an end, Glasgow offers a few words as well, the word friend slipping in to the conversation. “I would love to be your friend. And I that I will always be here for you as well. Someone to talk to or anything else, should you need it.” She pauses, glad to have found someone to share with. Because it always feels better to know someone is in your corner.
 
“There are so many histories here, but despite that, I admit I find it hard to talk so freely to everyone. Even now, even here. Though if I ever catch a rumor of my sister, I might just take you on an offer to go hunt her down. I’ll have to murder her for making me worry so,” she laughs at that. A joke, of course. Adelene would likely murder Lyanna if they ever found each other, because Lyanna would pretty much smother her at that point. No more letting the girl out of her sight. 

watch how i soar.

lyanna