Desreal: is it still dark out? or is this the light?

"...and sometimes our soft edges would talk to each other."
-Paul McCartney

If Saga knew that Nicodemus still thought about the starry-eyed Illiana, would he be pleased? It is a good question to ask; everywhere his mother went she seemed to leave an impact. A rose shaped imprint on someone's life, a whisper in their ear or the ghost of a loving touch. So would Saga be pleased to hear his mother's memory had been preserved? Or perhaps he would be upset, angry, sorrowful? Would he feel threatened by this fire-walker, or would he feel a connection to him? But Saga was never close to his family, save his sister, and he had no particular attachment to Illiana beyond the word 'mother' and the stories she told with her rich, warm voice. Fond of her - yes, but close to her? No. He had been such an odd child - withdrawn and sarcastic and alone. Oh, always alone. Even Shay made friends with the others, her naive nature and innocent plum eyes drawing them in. And where was Saga? If only I could say he was watching with wide, thoughtful eyes, but it would be a lie. Saga liked to nestle into the woods by himself, his mind whirling with impossibilities and splashing in shallow streams that stung with leftover power from their River. His father was of little interest to the colt, and his mother never treated him like the adult he wanted to be. Of all the goodness Illiana had spread, of all the people she had in the palm of her hand - it hadn't spread to her children.

Even now, the colt has his eyes away from Nicodemus, focusing on something else, anything else than him. He still thinks this is just a stranger (he is a stranger, even if Saga knows his name) he's run into on the road. But then a burning brightness catches his eye again, and he sees the flame that brought him here to begin with. Narrowing his blue-gray eyes at the birdlike figure, he finds himself angry with it. Why had it brought him here, to this mysterious reminder of the past? How did it know? He is so caught up in the Phoenix, he doesn't even notice the steely eyed wolverine lounging on Nicodemus's back, his gaze steady and silent. Saga can feel his heart speeding up, his throat closing up - it's too much for him, this is too much. It's weird, and it's wrong, and it's all too much. He can tell that the other is lost in his own thoughts - Perfect, just leave, just back away, this is bigger than you, he thinks to himself, not used to this strange, clawing sensation in his stomach. It feels like something terrible is about to happen.

"Shay?" Saga was confused. He hadn't seen his sister in a few days, his mother in a week, and now approaching his twin he could see something was wrong. Her body language was stiff, her lavender eyes hard and unseeing. He wasn't worried, just confused. He didn't like it when his sister acted out of the ordinary, it just wasn't right. So he glided up to her, trying to follow her gaze into the darkness. All he could see was a blob of gray and white, which could have been anyone in Phlegethon at the time. "What's up, sis?" His tone was light, juvenile. They were juveniles.

"We have to leave." Shay's voice was stony and cold; unforgiving, relentless, emotionless. Saga reeled back to give her a strange look -- they hadn't talked about this. Shay may have liked to boss him around, but every decision they made was on equal ground. Naturally, he rebuked this immediately.

"What? No. Why? Shay, don't bullshit me," the colt snarled, thrusting his head stubbornly towards her to give her a hard bump on the shoulder. Shay hardly swayed, only narrowed her pretty eyes at him and hissed, a low, smooth sound that reminded Saga of rattlesnakes about to strike. He was wary.

Shay gave him a cruel look, as if punishing him for his idiotic question. "We have to leave," the filly said slowly, "because mother demanded it." She laughed, harshly. "Because it is her dying wish." More laughter, and Saga vaguely remembered his mother's words in his ears. Of course, this had been when he was in his make-believe worlds, so he hadn't listened when Illiana had draped herself over her two first - and only - borns.

"Wait --" Shay giggled, a strange and dark sound that Saga wasn't sure he had heard before, "--wait. No, her dying wish was not for us. No--" the filly shook her head, dark mane flying around her, making her look even more deadly than she did. "No, her dying wish was to tell Him she forgave Him." Shay burst into hysterics, raucous laughter while Saga merely watched his sister unravel. He presumed that the 'He' his sister spoke of was their father, the MIA Benediction. And after a moment of silence, his lip too curled, and he began a mad giggle along with his sister.

She forgave him. --And Saga laughed.

Saga is about to turn and dart away from this strange trio of creatures, nervous and unsteady in their presence, when his name is spoken. "Saga." Like he knows exactly who he is, and wishes he didn't. The bay stallion turns in amazement, and perhaps a touch a fear. You must understand - fear is not a common emotion in Saga's heart. He does not fear, as a rule. But to encounter a ghost from his mother's past - Saga doesn't know what Nicodemus thinks. He doesn't know how'll he react. He had no idea his mother even told Nicodemus about her twins. It was possible, the colt reflects belatedly, because they had not been born on Ilius soil. There are only faint memories of a long journey, a desperation in his mother, and a hurried conversation (a bargain, Saga would later realize) with the boatkeeper. Then it was just a short, rocking boat trip over the River Styx and towards Phlegethon, the place that Illiana decided to call home.

She had forsaken her crown and her dignity to go to Phlegethon with Him, Saga knows. He's been told the stories, he's heard every word. He sneers at his mother - foolish! Why give up power and life and happiness for love? It is completely idiotic to our dear Saga. He doesn't understand sacrifice. He doesn't understand love or soulmates or matrimony. He doesn't understand walking through Hell (which Benediction did, for Illiana) or singing to Heaven (which Illiana did for Benediction). He only knows power and control and steadiness in life. Nothing has rocked his boat before. Even his madness had been precise and planned. Yes, Saga remembers being mad. He did not go mad, as some might tell the story. He simply was mad, crazy, insane, batshit, any other expression you might use. Saga had been off his fucking tits at the time, and yeah, he remembered. But that was all planned, all precise, like a little story in his head. The madness was a way to connect with his estranged sister again, a way to intimidate his herdmates and mock his broken father. Saga enjoyed the person he had become, enjoyed the incredibly fear that he had inspired in others. He still likes that sort of thing, that unpredictable, uncontrollable action. It works for him.

Saga can't help but laugh a little nervously, his teeth shining in the dark jungle. His eyes meet with Nicodemus' briefly, fire and ice, and ooh, Saga is melting and not in the cutesy, romantic way either. In the painful way. "Yeah," the bay stallion breathes, a giggle clinging to the syllable. He smiles a little oddly and twists his savage, handsome face to match his companion's. "Disappointed? He whooshes out a breath of laughter, turning away from the judging gaze of the wolverine, and shielding his eyes from the bright Phoenix. Saga can't stand this pressure much longer.

SAGA
you had your chance to touch the stars
you took your lucky break and broke it in two