Duskfire Glacier dark skies that hung above

Pledge thread 001. This takes place in Frostfire Ridge. :-)

Tuwawi was ...missing in action since Týrr could not bring himself to believe, even in the wake of destruction that Tuwawi's prolonged absence had brought with it, that she was truly gone. That she had left them. It wasn't something that she would do and he knew, or rather, chose to believe — blinded even still — that she would return to them. Yet, if she returned this time there would be nothing left for her to return to. Duskfire Glacier was ...gone. It appeared to the Rekkr as if it had happened over night, one day they were a pack and the next they ceased to exist as anything but a bunch of wanderers choosing to inhabit the same territory. The truth, Týrr knew was that the Glacier had been falling apart at the seams since, likely, before his return. Tuwawi had reclaimed her throne as he had desired but her kingdom was already ruins. He had seen it but had believed so fiercely in the wildfire Queen that he had turned his back on what he knew — that they were trying to save a ship already sinking, and that they were too late. 

This truth had slammed hard into Týrr now, as he left Duskfire Glacier with a forlorn glance over his shoulder, wincing against the pain the action caused in his healing wounds. Even so, he was numbed just as quick as the pain rose to it's paramount. Part of him wanted to wait for Tuwawi, and part of him was angry — not at her but at his own self. He might have lost every and all chance by choosing to conceal how he felt about her, for he did not want to inflict wounds upon her when she had lost Njal and then chased him out during their reunion within such a short span of time. Perhaps it was her husband she had left to go find — perhaps he thought with a bitter stab in his heart — jealousy — they had rekindled their estranged love. Maybe they were happy.

These considerations, however, did not help him in the slightest. There were still stranglers he knew, those who, perhaps, were as lost as he currently felt inside. Winded by the suddenness of it all — though it had been a long time coming, he suspected. The signs had all been there, after all. There was an opportunity to be found here, the Rekkr could see: an opportunity to take the stragglers that remained, whomever they may be, and find a new legacy. One that would last. Týrr could not bring himself to reclaim the Glacier, out of respect for Tuwawi and Njal — no matter how much his infatuation with Tuwawi made him dislike (see. jealous of) the other Northerner. The Glacier had been their kingdom. His attachment to it would not allow the Rekkr to stray far, his attentions focused on a nearby territory that had been within their outer borders. Frostfire Ridge. Though, if he was being entirely honest with himself it was not just his attachment to the Glacier that fueled the desire to claim close. He hoped that Tuwawi would return and if she did, she would decide to join him.

For the first time Týrr took to the Ridge, intent upon exploring it, to discover it's secrets and and divulge in what it had to offer him — and if all went well: a pack. The last he had seen the Amazon Huntress had been during the aftermath of the battle with the coast wolves, but now he needed to speak with her. To discover if she would give him her loyalty, or if she would try to convince him to go back to Coatl's Rise. He would not go, of course, but they had matters to discuss and he was willing to give the Huntress the benefit of the doubt; besides, she was the only one he knew well enough to trust, currently. It was for @Manauia he called for as he tipped his head back and paused in his steps.

The Glacier had fallen, and despite her Prince's displeasure, she inwardly crowed with the victory.  With Tuwawi gone, she was at least no longer a threat to him.

Nor, hopefully, a draw to this place any longer.

Though she still wasn't sure how she felt about him resuming the title that implied a sort of inheritance in the Rise, the easiest way to return home and remain loyal was to trust her Queen. Because of this, much to what would likely be his displeasure, she still maintained the goal of getting him to return. It was a goal that had before held little hope, but now had been given a new breath of life.

When he summoned her, she wondered if perhaps he was ready to stop avoiding fate and return. With the warmth of suppressed expectation rising in her chest, she answered, coming to stop before him. Sensing that he wished to speak, though, she remained silent, her countenance carefully controlled. Though in her mind it made the most sense for him to be ready, she still could not bring herself to assume it.

It would be almost too easy.

Týrr could not abandon those whom had stayed true to the Glacier, even though they, like him, likely saw the warning signs that the storm was coming and that despite all they had endured and survived that the Glacier would fall to it. For Týrr it had been infatuation that had bred his denial; and it was the infatuation that indulged him to stay. He had considered, perhaps for a brief while, of giving into Manauia — though her attempts at convincing him had stilled recently. He was not so ignorant as to believe she gave up; but he had enjoyed the reprieve from nagging nevertheless. Yet, Týrr owed those that found themselves lost in the wake of the Glacier's dispersal and their wildfire Queen's absence to gather those who would remain and those who would pledge their loyalties to him and give them guidance. Give them a home — as Tuwawi herself had done for him once upon a time. The Nýeldur could not turn his back upon her, nor those whom had been his comrades mere days ago. He was a better man than that. 


Manauia did not disappoint, her arrival swift. This pleased the Rekkr who could not abide tardiness lest there was good (i.e. life threatening) reason for it. Not that he'd expected her to be late for he always had the feeling she was not too terribly far from him. Perhaps it was the unease she left him with, her self entitlement of his “guard” that made him feel like she was always watching even if it was from afar. Maybe she wasn't. Maybe she was. In truth, it made no difference either way. “Manauia,” The Rekkr murmured in a soft greeting, not bothering to change his stance. Besides being her Prince, he'd also been of a higher rank than her when the Glacier had fallen — though he supposed there was no rank to call his. They were lawless now. 

“Tuwawi is gone,” He spoke, throat tightening as the words left his lips, sorrow filled. “I do not know if she plans to return or not,” He took a breath, pausing to focus his crystalline eyes upon the Huntress. “I intend to wait for her but not at the Glacier and not like this,” This referring to being without a pack. “I will not turn my back upon her or the others, but I will not dishonor her by reclaiming the Glacier. It is not my kingdom to claim,” Týrr looked away from her then, back to the Ridge that spread out before them. “I intend to claim this Frostfire Ridge,” His eyes flitted back to Manauia though after his words hung in the air between them, assuming that perhaps these were not the words she wanted to hear. Regardless, she would not change his mind.

“I have told you once you can return to Coatl's Rise and that offer still stands. You can tell my mother I sent you away if it is consequences you are worried about.” What would the Amazon Queen do? He was so far away from her — didn't even remember her. “But ...I would not mind if you stayed.” He was weary of her still, but she was the closest thing to “friend” he had with Tuwawi gone and Maera being a recluse that he barely saw. His eyes said the words that he could not bring his lips to mold: that despite his better judgment he trusted her. Perhaps not fully but even so it was better than nothing.

Oh boy...

Her return greeting was a simple dip of her muzzle, a tense patience about her as she waited for him to speak.  When he declared he would not lay claim to the Glacier, hope flared regardless of the instructions she had bade herself to follow... only to be doused just as quickly as he made his true intentions clear.

I intend to claim this Frostfire Ridge.

He was right that these were not words she wished to hear, and as he made to (in her eyes) turn his back completely on his homeland yet again, a fire awoke within her, displayed clearly in her jade gaze.  "The land you pledged yourself to is gone.  Everything that is holding you here is gone.  Yet still you would remain?  These wolves... they don't need you.  They will scatter like seeds, and lay down roots elsewhere.  There are many packs.  But you?  You have roots.  You are just too much a coward to even try to claim them.  You would rather stay ignorant."  At this her mouth clenched shut, for she knew she might have gone too far here.  Yet her frustration and pained longing had come to a head, and she had never been foremost amongst her sisters at holding her tongue.  She could not understand how he was not even curious.  How he would refuse to even visit his home, if only to see if some memory could be returned by doing so.

This was the last time she would try to argue with him.  She had said what she thought, and if he still insisted, there was nothing else she could do.  It was on him after that, and she could say with a clear conscience that she had tried her best.  It was still a failure, yes, but a failure to complete a task that was beyond her abilities in the first place.

lol she hit him right in the pride... :p

His words, Týrr saw, awoke a fire within the huntress that blazed with fury in her eyes — telltale that his previous assumption that his words would not be what she had wished to hear was correct. Chocolate ears slicked back to his skull when her words spilled forth from her lips, biting and heated, but she was wrong. He mourned for the absence of his missing Wildfire Queen, yes, but also held onto the hope that she might again return. And of the others ...what would they do? Where would they go? Why didn't they need him? She gave him words but no explanations, no proof; and she, she knew nothing of his ties or his roots, because he wasn't Tezcacoatl — at least not fully. “And thus, the wolves of Coatl's Rise will do the same,” Likewise, they didn't need him either. He was angered by her words, but kept his own under check. She would not pry him from his calm facade, he was determined. If he wished to lead wolves then he needed to learn how to remain diplomatic in tense situations and this situation was definitely tense. A test of his patience, he felt, though he knew that Manauia's anger was quite genuine.

“Would the wolves of the Rise even have accepted me as their King? Even if I hadn't forgotten?” He pressed her, sensing the internal warning in his head, the dull, pulsating ache that he took to be a signal from whatever deity watched over him that he was treading into dangerous waters. His hackles bristled at the audacity of her words, at calling him a coward, the tensing of his muscles causing a soft pain to radiate from the wounds on his neck. He was scared – of prying too deep into memories that he was not yet meant to recall – but prying into them felt like his head would split in half. Still her capitalization on that made him fume silently because she was right. He was scared, but to call him a coward for wanting to preserve what he did remember? He couldn't help but feel she'd gone too far.

“This isn't something you can just explain to me, Manauia,” Týrr hissed her name, contouring it viciously. “I have to remember on my own time, when I am ready too. You can't push it out of me and you can't force it.” He had been offering her a boon, a place among the pack he intended to claim for his own and here she was shoving it back in his face, or rather stepping all over it because it wasn't what she wanted. Well, he wasn't her toy, and he was not going to obey her. He hadn't before, he knew. It was why he had managed to separate him from them in the first place, losing and letting them behind while he made his way to Seahawk Valley and joined up with Siku and Tartok. “You are a stubborn woman,” The Rekkr scoffed at her softly. “You call me a coward, Huntress, but you haven't once tried to return without me, have you?” The Rekkr questioned, turning it against her. “So either you have hidden romantic feelings for me,” This was spoken with an idignant snort for he did not believe that to be the case. Perhaps if hell were freezing over. “Or you, yourself, are scared to return without me by your side.” What else could it be that held her here? Especially when he'd told her numerous times that she was no bound to stay by his side.

“My ties here are stronger than you realize, Huntress. My return to Coatl's Rise is a vain hope. I do not remember enough, and I may never. They will never accept me as a leader. Maybe a slave but you and I both know that it is not what my mother had planned for me.” Why make every one suffer when he was better off here? Away from the Amazon's. A culture that was present within him even if he was too blind by his identity crises to see it. “I am claiming Frostfire Ridge and you are welcome to join me, Manauia,” Týrr repeated himself, calmer now. “But you will not change my mind.”

If I ever misrepresent things, feel free to correct me! As far as the whole Coatl's rise thing goes :)

What he said... it made no sense to her.  The wolves of the Rise would not scatter... they were a strong group, and strong they would remain.  It was not they that needed him... it was his mother, and it was her pain that Manauia was trying to alleviate.  No they would not accept him as king.  She could say that almost certainly, and it had given her pause previously.  But he would still hold an honored place, higher than any male had been alotted before.  He could be a valued warrior, a prince among a race where the term was almost unheard of.  Did he want to be king so badly?  "You would throw away your home, and your mother's - my queen's - heart, for a crown.  You will not even speak with her."  It was a statement, not a question... he'd made the answer clear in his words.

When he turned her words back on her, though, her fury rose, and indignation sparked a growl.  Still, her discipline kept her teeth from baring, though it was a near thing.  The indication she might have feelings for him was bad enough... but to go so far as to infer she was a coward for trying to do the job she had been tasked with.  "I had one task, and it was to keep you from harm.  I failed.  So then I was given another - to ensure that, once more, you stood before the Queen.  If I fail in that, then my word is meaningless.  And I am obviously unfit for my title as Amazon."  It wasn't a thing that she would have given up without a fight, but she could see that no amount of persuasion on her part was going to change his mind.

"I can see now that it is the truth, though.  I have failed yet again."  The words were acid on her tongue.  Were her more persuasive sisters here, perhaps things could have been different.  But she had not been up to the task.  Her Queen was not an unforgiving and harsh ruler, but she was a ruler the same.  If she allowed such failures to go unpunished, then her warriors would not always strive to be the best.  She expected at least demotion, if not harsher treatment, should she attempt to return.  But return she would.  The shame might kill her, but she'd rather die in Coatl's Rise than live without it.

After a pause, she spoke again.  "I will remain and see this new land founded.  Then at least I can tell her that you are well positioned."  Compared to the fury of her former words, this was quiet - subdued.  If it was the most she could do, then she would see it through to her best.

It all sounds perfect! :-) I really should sit down and write up a draft of their culture and how it is shown in the running of Coatl's Rise, lol. :p

Manauia's irritation (though anger was probably the better word to put here) at him was not entirely unwarranted for he was resolutely unwilling to even give Coatl's Rise any sort of real chance. Her frustration at him, even, was understood by the Rekkr; still he could not help but feel that it was even a tad bit unfair of her when she knew that he struggled to remember. Her expectations, in his opinion, were set upon what he was when he was Tezcacoatl — but he wasn't Tezcacoatl. At least, not entirely. The Viking's had planted their own roots within him and so long as his memory was incomplete, as long as the gray of unknown still remained he could not commit himself to fully being Tezcacoatl. It wasn't fair. To his forgotten mother, nor to the wolves of Coatl's Rise. How could he return when he barely remembered anything at all? His incorporation back into their culture would be not only a crude shock but also would render the truth: that he was not the Amazon Prince. Or rather he was but he could not fully remember being such. When he could not perform as they would no doubt expect him too what would happen to him? Would they kill him? Cast him out? He didn't know and wasn't overly fond of the idea of jumping that gun. That was what he wanted her to understand, in accordance, but she seemed to be as selfish as he when it came down to it. Perhaps they were two stubborn forces that just continued to butt heads. “I do not remember those things,” Yet, he felt like a broken record as the words left his lips. He remembered names, a few words of what he assumed to be his native tongue, but he still lacked the connection, the feeling that he was supposed to associate with what he did remember, as little as it was.

Manauia kept pushing at him as if the force of her stubbornness would be enough to jog what he'd forgotten, what had been stolen from him, but Týrr was an acting wall — he wouldn't budge. He was no healer but he did not think that was how these things worked; and how well were the statistics that he would regain everything that he'd lost in the first place? “What would you have me tell her? That I don't remember her? Would that not hurt more?” He didn't understand her, and it was obvious to him that she didn't understand him. “Or would you have me lie? Pretend like it had never happened in the first place? I can't change the past, Manauia. I was injured in a fight, I lost everything, even my name. Unfortunately, gaining it back is going to require a lot more work than it took for me to get amnesia in the first place,” He was exasperated, but talking about this was what they needed to do. Týrr only wished she would stop making him feel bad about something far out of his control by demeaning herself by speaking of how she was not worthy to be an Amazon because she had failed, as if it were his fault (and it was, really). “It will take time and maybe I will never fully remember. I don't know.” He wanted to tell her that affording him patience and understanding would not kill her but resisted, already she was angry, a growl reverberating from within her.

“I have changed so much already from who I was before you opened my eyes, Manauia,” He saw it, and he was certain that others that had known him before had seen it, as well. “No one said it was going to be easy,” It was no time for a smile, but he afforded her a soft, cheeky little lift of his lips that played at the corners before his expression returned to it's serious demeanor once more. Ears slicked back to rest at half mast atop his skull when she spoke that she would stay to see the Ridge founded but then she would return. For reasons unexplained to him, this evoked a soft sadness within him. Though they rarely saw eye to eye on anything, nor could they seem to have a conversation without breaking out into an argument of some kind the thought of her leaving did not bring with it relief or joy. He owed a debt to her, he knew, for showing him the truth in the lie of a life he'd lived.

“And if I were to offer you a position as official adviser and counselor to me? After all, you have knowledge of the Amazon culture that would be invaluable me and the Ridge. I intend to incorporate much of the culture into Frostfire; but I can't do that without an Amazon herself, can I?” Despite how it sounded his intention was not to bribe her. If she wished to go, after everything was said and done, if she refused his offer then it was her choice and he would not try to stop her; but he would be lying if he said he didn't care if she stayed or if she went.

Then it was done.  He confirmed her words, perhaps not outright, but with a certainty that even she could not deny.  He would not return, and no amount of words on her part was going to change that.  She almost continued to argue... it was on the tip of her tongue.  Barbed words that would surely make things worse before better, yet words she ached to speak.  How could it possibly be better to never see him again than to have a son return, but without memories.  New could be made... but this way, the new was dead as well as the old.  Not only was her Queen aware that her son no longer knew her, but now she would be forced to accept that he never would.

The thought of bringing such news was almost enough to make her ill.

He might think her selfish, but she was convinced utterly that he was being so now.  At least she sought good other than her own.  He looked only to his own comfort, his own needs... and nothing he said would convince her his reluctance was anything short of cowardice.  For a moment, ice filled her.  Perhaps they were better this way, as her Queen would not need to see the ruin her son had become.  It was a harsh thought, and she would regret it moments later... but she was bereft.  Her entire being had been wrapped up in keeping him from harm, in serving his mother by serving him.  And now she not only had failed in that, but he would also ask that she choose.

The idea of being forever parted from the Rise was heartbreaking.  And though she might not have shown it, she felt it keenly.  Yet what choice did she have?  If she returned, even if her queen forgave her, she knew she would fall immeasurable in many of her sisters' eyes.  A warrior who could not even bring a wayward, male prince home.  They would not know his resolve, and instead would think her soft to have allowed him his own whim in remaining.  Perhaps it was true.  Perhaps she had softened.  But she knew that she could not force this, not if he was so convinced.  Obviously it was not meant to be.

Yet she could not bring herself to forsake the home of her heart so freely, not yet.  And she would need to return, if only to inform his mother of why he would not join her.  "I will think on it," was all she said, taught voice the only indicator to the turmoil that broiled just beneath the surface.  Were she to stay, true she would have him... but he remembered nothing.  An Amazonian Prince with no memories weighed against her home and sisters.  Though she would not say she wasn't fond of him despite their differences (a fact she would never admit aloud), were it not for duty, the choice would be obvious.

Manauia did not respond to his questions, though Týrr assumed freely that she had plenty that she wished to say to him. Despite the temptation that the Amazon Rekkr assumed that the Huntress was feeling, she surprised him by keeping herself silent. She offered no jab, no further insult, but neither did she supply him with any sort of response. Without knowing her opinion, the Amazon Prince took her silence as a victory; whether she intended it to be or not. He was right, simply, he lacked the knowledge on how to make such a stubborn woman as Manauia see it. Perhaps he would never be able to fulfill that, perhaps, Týrr considered, in that venture he would always fail. Though his offer had not been made as a bride, there was a part of Týrr that hoped it might soften the blow for her despite that he'd never held anything back from her. It wasn't as if she could not have seen this coming. She knew how he felt about returning to the Rise when he did not remember much of anything from that life; still she persisted and this ...yelling match had been the result. Whatever she remembered of Tezcacoatl Týrr did not know, but perhaps, he reasoned, he had never been so stubborn when he had been the Prince destined to lead Coatl's Rise. That destiny had changed and whatever deities ruled from above — if such things existed (he had his doubts) — had set him on a very different path then the one he was born too. Týrr grieved for what was lost to him, the memories, his forgotten mother, among the more recent losses, yet, he did not linger upon it. He used his mourning to fuel him and propel him forward into the new age. He was not a boy any longer. He was a man and his future stretched out vastly before him, ready for him to conquer whatever he set his mind too.

Manauia offered him a simple response to his inquiry, neither accepting the offer, nor rejecting it. It was...progress; or at least more progress than they'd had mere seconds ago when they'd been more or less yelling at one another in their equal frustration at the other. The Huntress' voice had been taunt when she had spoken, no doubt still reeling from having him crush whatever hopes she had managed to salvage and hold onto. “I will be waiting,” Though, admittedly, she had some time before he would demand a real answer. He did not want to rush this process of founding and claiming Frostfire. He would gather recruits, he would make and stock caches, prepare the territory for the pack that he felt confident would rise and prosper there. Something else occurred to Týrr in the aftermath of their disagreement, and the King Rekkr fixed his crystalline eyes upon her once more. “I will be gone for a few days from here, a week at most if the weather is good,” He inhaled deeply and let it out. “There is ...business I must take care of in the South,” He did not specify and held no intentions of it for the feeling that if she knew the true nature of his business that she would attempt to stop him. Or perhaps, at this point, she didn't care and wouldn't bother. Either way, it wasn't a risk he was going to take. “There isn't much to keep an eye on but I know that my trust is well placed.” He was being honest, though it might have very well appeared as if he were trying to play nice for the sake of it.

this can be her last post unless Tyrr does somethjng that needs response :)

There was a small, angry part within her that wanted to tell him where exactly he could shove his trust, but her better judgement won out and instead she nodded, wondering what exactly this other business was but not feeling like asking any questions at the moment.  It wasn't as though she would have any affect on whatever plans he laid, for she had seen how far her own opinions weighed against his.

While he was gone she would seclude herself, wandering in isolation and thinking on his offer.  Often would she curse him for it, and for the thick headed manner in which he had refused her own request.  And by the time he returned, she would be no closer to an answer, though resignation would have weighed upon her.

She had allowed herself to hope, and that was her mistake.  She should have known by now that home was a memory, her life before something she would never regain.  Even if she returned now, it would never be the same, for even if she redeemed herself in her queen's eyes, she would not redeem herself in her own.  Forever she would know that she in part is the reason Quetzacoatl lost her beloved son.  She just needed to decide if that, a half-life of failure in the land she loved, was better than the unknown that waited her in this savage country.

I'll go ahead and have this archived. <3

Once more Manauia chose not to respond to him, not even bothering to ask what business it was that he had that required him to move into the southern parts of the Teekon Wilds. While her silence brought with it a small measure of relief — after all he would not have to dance around his true purpose — yet this relief was accompanied by surprise. He had expected her to fight him, and while technically in her own way she had a few seconds previously, for the moment Týrr appeared the victor; despite that she knew full well there was nothing that was binding her here, to him, other than her belief that Quetzalcoatl would punish her for his own choices. Either way, Týrr could offer her no true consolidation. He didn't remember his mother, after all. The Amazon Rekkr dithered then, unsure of if he was right in taking her silence as a confirmation as to her carrying out his orders or not, but then decided that he was never going to be able to prove that his trust was true if he did not take the leap of faith. “I will see you in a few week's time,” Hopefully it would take at most a week, or if he could not find a way to best Ragnar then her worry would cease for he would no longer be living and all obligations to him would be off the table for indefinitely. 

With those words, the soon-to-be-King departed her, heading further inland, his destination the heart of the Ridge to prepare himself for the venture and the battle ahead.