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 Posted: Wed Jan 22, 2020 4:20 pm
 Sepaia sometimes woke up in the morning achy and tired. It was getting harder and harder for her to get up, and occasionally her joints, especially her knees, hurt. She was still fighting fit, thank the Signs, and she could still run, patrol, and fight with the rest of her herd. But she was beginning to realize that she was getting older, not younger. The startling truth was that time halted for no one, just continued its inexorable march no matter what Stars tried to do to stop it. It was sad, but such was life--she would not live forever. The prudent thing to do would be to start preparing for the future now, not when it was too late.
To that end, she looked to her two sons. One of her sons, Sparta, had disappeared a long time ago; that left her with her sons Llewelyn and Tairngire. Llew was older than Tairn in more ways than one. Llew was born first, and he aged like most Stars did. He had a fighting spirit, even if he didn't like violence. Tairn was like that too, actually--he was haughty and demanding, but he had no intention of starting a fight. He wasn't a warrior, he was, well, a prince.
Tairn was not like most colts; he aged slowly. He was from Tir na Nog; he was one of the Fair Folk, a changeling who had gotten lost on his way and ended up here in the Sunflare. Sepaia had taken him under her wing and adopted him as her own. So far as she could tell, Tairn didn't mind it. He seemed to like her (although who could tell with the Fair Folk?), and he got along well with Llew. Her worry was, well...
She needed an heir. One of her two sons would seem like the logical choice. Llew had been preparing for it for longer, he had a better sense of responsibility, and while this shouldn't have had much to do with the decision, he was older, and he was already an adult, whereas the Signs alone knew when Tairn would reach adulthood. Tairn, on the other hand, was a little too foolish, a little too impetuous, a little too arrogant. He wasn't a leader, but she was worried he would take offense at not being her heir. Llew was the better choice in every way, she just hoped her little changeling would understand that.
She turned away from the green hillsides to look at her sons. She had brought them here, away from the rest of the herd, to discuss their future--both as individuals and as members of her family. "As you know," she said, "I will not be around forever. Someday I will pass on, and I will need someone to carry on in my place. Llew, I have chosen you as my heir. Know that whatever happens, both of you are my sons. I love you both, and I am immensely proud of both of you." She looked from one to the other and prepared herself for their reply.
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Posted: Thu Jan 30, 2020 9:35 pm
It always startled Llew a little bit when he thought of how old he was getting. He wasn't old-old, not yet, he still had a few good years left on him, but he wasn't as young as he thought he was. There were many now in the herd much younger than him. Maybe it was the ages of the people around him--Gar and Odhran were about his age, so the only person younger than them for a long time had been Ciaradh. With Kaede and Lami's new kids, though, Llew was definitely starting to realize that time was moving on, and it might just be time to start thinking about his future. It was coming up--it wasn't going to stop just because he wasn't ready.
He'd been seeing the signs for a long time. His mother was getting older. There were occasional silver strands in her mane and tail, and some days were a little harder than others to get up. She was still healthy and would continue to live for many, many years, but the signs of her aging still frightened him. She wasn't going to be around forever. Someday his mother would no longer be around, and he was going to have to do something. With Sparta's disappearance, he had been the heir presumptive for many years now, the princeling of Burning Sun, but he'd never paid much attention to that. He was a bard, first and foremost, and the idea of actually leading the clan someday was...daunting, to be honest. He didn't think he could do it--for one thing, warriors should be led by a fellow warrior, not by a musician, no matter how skilled or brave that musician might be. He wasn't sure he belonged as their leader in battle, though in peacetime...well, if peacetime were ever to occur, he was sure he could learn the ropes. It was combat that worried him most. He didn't think he could lead in combat.
Llew knew why he and his little brother had been brought to the hilltop today. He and Tairn both knew that one of them would be the heir, and that it would not be Tairn. Tairn was too young, and too immature, and, although he had never told their mother this, he had told Llew that he still entertained hopes of returning to his homeland someday. Leading the Burning Sun would delay that homecoming, even if he did live as long as most Stars thought he would. He couldn't stay in this world and remain as he was, one of the Fair Folk. He could not lead the Burning Sun.
So it had to be Llew. It had always had to be Llew. He took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, Ma," he said simply. There was nothing else to be said.
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Posted: Thu Jan 30, 2020 9:46 pm
It had been some years since the fateful night he had been so badly lost. Lost in every way--lost from his real family in Tir na Nog, lost from his homeland, and just generally lost. He still didn't feel like he belonged, even as he watched the rest of the herd and, slowly, though not as slowly as people thought, he grew up. Really, he wasn't growing slowly--he was growing normally. It was just that Stars from this world grew so quickly. There hadn't been many new foals in the Sunflare herd since he joined them, but there had been new foals in the Shadow Herd, and it had been possible, watching them from bushes on the eastern side of the Sunflare territory, to watch their first stumbling flights. They were growing old fast. Everything here was growing old fast. Everything was dying all around him--could you really blame Tairn for the way he felt all the time, the antsy, worried, anxious feeling that came out of his mouth and through his body as haughtiness and frustration?
Frustrated, yes, he was definitely frustrated. The world wasn't the way it should be, including the fact that he shouldn't be here. He should be at home in Tir na Nog, where people aged normally, not...fast like he as. He was growing faster the longer he stayed here. He was growing mortal, and he hated it. He hated the feeling. He hated the feeling that everything was changing and being constantly lost, hated the idea of watching Llew lose his voice and his mother her vitality. They were dying, they would no longer exist someday, and he did not like that. Not one bit.
He had to return to Tir na Nog. He'd been talking about it with Llew--he couldn't stay here forever. He had to go home. Not forever. I'll visit sometimes. I've got to. I need to save the people here. He shook his head and tried to concentrate on what his mother had to say. What she was saying was logical, and understandable, and completely expected. He sighed. The fact that she was talking about this now was a little worrying--did she know something she hadn't told them yet? Was this why she was bringing it up? She and Llew and Tairn had always known, everyone had always known who her heir was, and it sure as heck wasn't going to be the little changeling child.
It was also mildly annoying that his mother was talking to them like this. She obviously thought Tairn would explode, and was talking like this to mollify him. He hated being mollified, but there you go. He'd brought this in himself from being so angry all the time (even if he had perfectly good reason to be angry, he as depressed, after all). So he took a deep breath and nodded. "A good choice," he said. "Most excellent." He looked up at the mare he'd come to consider to be his mother. "We know. And we both love you too. I know I shouldn't speak for Llew, but still. We love you too."
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