They came from the surf as a group; Oswin, deep gold and pale white, body littered in scars of past battles was the one who led them. She limped up the shoreline as she favored a blackened, bruised front right shoulder. A scabbed wound on her jaw made her grimace, the saltwater of the ocean having graced it with a touch, making it sting. But the tears in her eyes weren’t a product of that; it was the smell of Crossing Isle. That of home.
Behind her came Zevulun, youngest of the three mares, beside his blind older sister, Maziel. Though Maziel still feared the surf, she swam when necessary so long as she had a family member close by to call out to her above the water and guide her where she needed to go. Her breathing was a little labored, heart having pounded a little extra harder during the swim when the waves reminded her of a stormy sea that was unkind to her years ago.
Last was Mariael. She, too, limped with injuries. Rather than clamor together with the group and breath that familiar smell deep into her lungs she turned her ears back and dropped her head, turning herself away from them. She didn’t want to be here, but where would she go, if not with them? The anger inside her had festered into something putrid and cruel over the last few years since her father’s death, and much of the blame for it was on her shoulders. Countless times Oswin had tried and tried and tried to get her to open up, to see that she could let that rage go and free herself, but it always seemed to backfire. Mariael just locked down harder.
Thus, they’d fought. It’d been tense and stressful, a long battle of running the grounds and clashing over and over again, pushing one another to the ground and stomping down with hooves careful not to kill, but firm enough to get their point across. Oswin wanted to bring them home to the islands.
Mariael could not hide from her pain here, and therefore it was the last place she wanted to be.
Maziel glanced toward Mariael, but for once, Mariael only flicked her ears back and turned away, refusing to beckon her blind sister to her side. Hurt flashed briefly across Maziel’s face and Zevulun reached out, tenderly running his muzzle over her neck and lipping at strands of her wet, dark mane. She smiled then, even if it was a little sad, and leaned into his affection.
Zevulun had grown since the islands last saw him as an unruly, wild young thing. Now he’d come into his age and muscle-growth, looking every bit the handsome, cream and white draped and spotted stallion he was meant to mature as. Perhaps the ever-present twinkle in his ice-blue eyes was proof enough that while he’s physically grown up there was still a playful cad in that head of his.
“Come on,” Oswin said after they’d shaken the saltwater from their coats and rested a little from their swim. “We should get to the Peak before sundown.”
Zevulun and Maziel wanted to return to Tinuvel.
That had been the one thing Mariael had threatened to walk away from them for. “Never again will I step hoof on that island.” She had swore, voice shaking in anger, ears flat against her head. When Maziel had tried to gently interject, Mariael had snapped at her. Mariael never snapped at Maziel.
Mariael wasn’t Mariael anymore.
Zevulun and Oswin had spoken together, deciding the plan was to live what would hopefully be temporarily with her at the Peak until they could finally convince Mariael to return to TInuvel. Then, Zevulun would leave the islands and return to the Mainlands to track his sons, Raziel and Ramiel down and bring them here, too. In due time they would be reunited, and Nephilim’s blood would stand on the shores of their home isle once more.
“Nervous about returning to the Peak?” Zevulun asked Oswin, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“No!” She said with a laugh. “Excited, more like. The Peak was where I felt…” she trailed off, thinking, “the Peak was the only place that has ever made any sense to me and the way I enjoy living. I’m excited to be among my sisters again.” They exchanged a smile, but Oswin’s grew a little cheekier. “Aren’t you nervous about going to the Peak?”
“What? Why?” He blinked, frowning.
“I didn’t forget, young nephew, that you impregnated my sisters in your wild youth.”
Zevulun chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Oh, no, I’m not nervous. Excited to see those beauties again… see if my children are still there or if they’ve wandered to start lives of their own…” and to his benefit, Zevulun certainly looked excited. Oswin only shook her head and refocused forward, the smells and sights growing more and more familiar as they traveled.
She stopped at the baseline of the foothills, knowing her injured shoulder wouldn’t appreciate the steep climb up to the top of the Peak, no matter how her heart lamented for it. She’d already done so much today, she needed to rest at least a day or two before she made the climb. Maziel and Zevulun stood near her, Mariael a few paces off, with them but not with them.
Oswin lifted her chin and bellowed, loud, letting her sisters know she’d finally come home.
oswin
this is as brave as I know how to be.
I know it’s gonna hurt you, but please… be a little proud of me.