is this a natural feeling or is it just me bleeding?
He wasn't giving it a lot of thought to where he was currently going, and maybe that was okay. Maybe it wasn't, but who was going to tell him to stop, to go back the way he had come? Not to say that he wouldn't listen or would, if that was the case. All of those things would be decided on a case by case basis, and Lasairian felt fine in how life had been for him lately. It all fell into place for him, as strange as that might sound to others. Or to himself, frankly speaking. Lasairian wasn't sure why he had ended up in this place, or why it was so fitting when he least expected it to be.
Too many things had worked out for him to not feel like he somehow belonged. That he had been nudged in this direction by some unseen force. He honestly felt like he had, and it wasn't a bad thing. He was getting comfortable in this strange new life, and he liked where he lived, seemed to get along with most residents in general, and liked the field he was in. Being a medic was like second nature, though he was still debating where he should go from there. What area he should specialize in once he got up to that point. At least two of the options had his attention so far. But choosing would have to come later.
He was confounded by what had happened near the sea recently, because he had expected worse from an erupting volcano than this. Some odd path of lava rock bridged over the water. It was strange and unnatural in how it had been formed, but Lasairian hadn't put it past the deities to have had a hoof or two in that. At least they were saved from worse, as far as volcanoes went, so how could he really complain about it being odd? It wasn't hurting him, as much as it felt dangerous around the bridge, so he had faith that the deities knew what they were doing or how to keep it all in check if nothing more.
Aside from that, there were moments that the area felt like the highlands near where he had come from, with the waves crashing against the shores and the way the wind might pass on through. Sometimes those reminders were nice. Sometimes they didn't sting so much. Lasairian wasn't that today was one of those days, but he was holding it together anyway. He was relaxed and not letting the past get to him. But even with that, he was lost in thought and unanswered questions, which was why he felt a little caught off guard when he heard the sound of someone else nearby. "Hello? Someone out there?" he called lightly, turning around to look.
Below Zero
my frost philosophy will put no curse on me
The entirety of this world felt foreign to her, but that had been her general reaction since coming to shore. Everything seemed so . . . bright, but not in the rainbow jeweled tones she was used to from beneath the sea – and the flowers hardly made a comparative cut. Green seemed to be everywhere here though, in these lands ruled by those of the Dusk Court. When she’d first ventured ashore, she hadn’t been certain about all the Court business – not so used to the segregation. But the more time that she’d spent in Novus, the more she became aware that belonging to the Court – er, rather a Court – was the norm. And there was no way she’d be accused of having a yellow dorsal, nope she wasn’t a scaredy fish – if fitting in meant being part of a Court, she had made it her business to find one. She’d done her digging, her searching into which court represented, what each held value in . . . that research had brought her here . . . to the Dusk Court.
She continued to venture further into the lands of the Susurro Fields, staring out across the green carpet; if she pretended hard enough, she could almost imagine that it was a carpet of seagrass beneath the aqua waves – rather than a carpet of . . . regular grass beneath the blue sky. She brushed a hoof lightly through the grass, resisting the urge to make a face. Everything was so . . . dry here. As if to answer her distaste, the water vapors that steamed off of her spine, and around each dainty hoof shifted in temperature, dusting her pelt in a coolness as the vapors descended in the air. The simple touch of the cool water vapors helped ease her mind as the sapphire and ivory maiden stood, at distinct odds with the land around her.
Okay, maybe odd downplayed it a touch. While the world around her was full of earthen life – dense blades of grass, the chirping of birds, wild life dancing among the fields, Bel drew the eye for the fact that she stood out of place. From the fin crest that followed the line of her back, to the long tail ending in a fluke. The two sets of eyes, and ram horns – or the frilled ears and gills. She didn’t look like the sort meant to be seen ABOVE the waterline. And yet . . . here she was. Her hooves shuffled beneath her awkwardly, before she began to move forward again. Her step was light, graceful, but . . . bouncy. So used to wading through waters when she wasn’t swimming, being on land was off kilter.
Previously she’d have to push off with her hooves a touch to make progress through water, but now – moving through air (although across land and not the sky) left her with constantly having to watch herself least she over do her step and send herself tumbling through the air from pushing off to hard again. Her tail was being utilized to help her, held aloof for balance, the end of it flicking faintly every few moments. Up, down, in time with her steps. One, two. Careful not to push against the ground to hard least she be propelled forward with more force than intended. Step, step. She was getting the hang of it so long as all of her focus remained on the task at hand (walking) and she didn’t let herself get distracted . . . walking and talking was not a course of action in her immediate future.
There was just so many things that were different about living mostly above land rather than mostly below the ocean. And while she might enjoy no longer having to run away from every nasty with teeth that she came across – she did miss the beauty of the water . . . and her ability to move without concern through it. Step, ste-. And as her mind wandered back to water, her back left hoof pushed off from the earth with just enough force for the mare to stumble a few steps, resulting in her splaying her limbs in an attempt to keep from keep her balance. She had just about as much grace as a 1 limbed octopus on land! She shook her head, snorting soundly at herself, before gathering her legs properly under her, her tail flicking in agitation as the fluke cut through the grass, flattening the strands in its wake. Stomping her hooves a few times to draw her attention to the task at hand, the aquatic equine moved forward once more, determined to go at least 5 minutes without stumbling. She wasn’t a clownfish, she had no intention of being laughed at!
Her steps smoothed slowly, as she worked hard to keep her balance to the best of her ability – hard ground was always the most difficult for her – more solid footing to push off from when she least wanted it to, but thankfully the grass helped counter it with enough cushion that she was starting to get the hang of it, only stumbling every few minutes – the space between each stumble increasing slightly as she made her way more firmly to the middle of this meeting place of Dusk Court, fully intending to introduce herself properly to the one who led this Court.
Thoughts Speech
Tagging: @Asterion
i feel no cold, i feel no fear inside my mind Now I'm full of energy
TELL ME, ATLAS, WHICH IS HEAVIER
THE WORLD OR ITS PEOPLE'S HEARTS
When the ship finally pulls into the docks, the man already has his cloak pulled tightly around his shoulders to hide the golden scars littered across his body, his parchment and inks tucked into a small satchel. He disembarks with the rest of the weary passengers, allowing himself to be jostled and jolted by the rest, his head lowered so that he might blend in better with the crowd -- not that it helps, for there are guards stationed around the docks, stopping passengers and beginning to question them.
His turn comes to be questioned, and he keeps his eyes on the ground before him as he answers each question, as truthfully as he can -- it seems to satisfy the guards, who he would guess have never heard of assassins who bore metal markings -- and he passes by finally with a small sigh of relief.
That this land has seemingly never encountered the Astali makes him all the more certain that he had chosen wisely when he had boarded the ship -- even if he had ached to leave behind Anberlin, a strange heaviness to his chest that he couldn’t name, and he had a handful of letters already scrawled across parchment paper just from the weeks-long journey.
Whether he would send any of them might be another story -- first, he needs to find where this strange land keeps its messenger birds.
“Sir,” He calls out quietly to a man standing nearby, his ears perking forward. “...is there an aviary here?”
e can still feel the heat from the fires, the brightness of the flames forever imprinted into his mind. It seemed his life was one fire after the next now; Solterra, Delumine, Denocte. No matter where he went he found disaster, in a world torn asunder.
Smoke lingers in the air, the sharp, acrid smell of burning buildings filling the street and replacing the scent of spices by which he had always known the market. Snow and ash; he can’t tell the difference between them anymore. Both are white and falling, both are coating the ground in a thin, ever-growing blanket.
There’s a hollowness in his chest, an empty space where his heart should have been beating. He thinks the fire may have burned it away, like the raiders had cut it out and tossed it upon the woodpile to burn it with the rest of Denocte’s chattels. And in its absence, he feels nothing - nothing except for the bile rising slowly in his throat.
And the anger that accompanies it.
It feels as if he’s standing in Viride all over again, staring at the blackened shell of a once mighty forest. The leaves and color had been stripped away, and all the joy and warmth and life along with it. It’s similarly muted and somber here, where the markets are hushed and the stalls closed and everything is covered in white.
But here the trees are replaced by houses, and the flames were no accident. White ash coats his hooves, white snow a blanket across his back, white-hot blood singing the inside of his veins.
Where he had felt sorrow back in Delumine, Ipomoea feels a slow-burning rage now. It’s a foreign feeling, one made all the more intense because of it. It streaks through his mind like a ghost, filling the empty spaces of his chest with a fire not dissimilar to the fire from the raid.
This is why you came, the remnants of the fire tells him.
This is why he left his home.
To fight fire with fire, to act when the rest of Delumine was silent. He wants to bring this picture home with him, he wants to show his family the destruction they had turned away from. Don’t you know it’s only a matter of time? We won’t be immune forever. He wants to grab their shoulders and shake them to awareness, to stir them to action, to make them understand that this ruin was not confined to Denocte, that it would spread like a plague until everything and everyone was as hollowed out as the markets.
He wants to scream. He wants to cry and rage and flee, but he doesn’t. Ipomoea stands in the market, willing his magic to bring the life back, but he thinks he may have cut that part out of himself, too. His magic is quiet, the flowers decorating his brow wilting and dropped dead, browned leaves to the streets. He wants to make it beautiful again - but this time, he can’t.
So he lets the fire within him burn
@open to any!! | "speaks" | set after the day court raid
Posted by: Regis - 05-19-2019, 02:59 AM - Forum: Archives
- No Replies
look at the stars
look how they shine for you
The morning was a peaceful one. Looking out across the expanse of land that stretched forth from the citadel, Regis admired the way the snow, freshly fallen through the night, glittered like gemstones beneath the rising sun. It was quiet with only the occasional murmur of a voice or clack of hooves against the cobblestone of the courtyard, and while the silence was peaceful, there was a small hole left somewhere in the Prince’s soul when he failed to hear the birdsong he’d come to love early on. They’d be back in another month or two, he knew, but it felt like so far away.
Squinting his eyes as the sun peaked over the horizon, Regis shifted so as not to be blinded by its morning radiance, but continued to look on with a pleasant smile for a little while longer. The sky itself was painted lavender with dashes of amber and shades of pink, and the sun was a fierce orange, and the yearling was surprised when he found himself reminded of the kind woman he’d met a few months prior in Denocte – which, much to his pride, he now knew how to properly pronounce. An idea quickly flickered to life in his head, and with a smile he turned his back on the other-worldly sight of the sunrise, heading back inside with Milo ever at his side.
It was only after breakfast that Regis set to his task, grabbing a sheet of parchment along with ink and quill, and lastly, a delectable treat he’d set aside from his own breakfast – a cinnamon roll. Calling on all of the lessons he’d received in formal affairs, Regis did his best to sound cordial and took his time in writing his letter, which would prove to be great practice for his still somewhat childish penmanship.
“Salutations, Miss Moira,
It’s morning in Delumine, and all the pretty colors in the sunrise made me think of you. I hope you’re doing well in Denocte and eating all the sweets you can find. I heard my papa and some of the others here talking about some trouble that’s happening all across Novus, and I really hope that you’re okay and nobody tries to bother you. If they do, me and Milo will come and help you. Momma and papa, too, if they’re really mean.
I remember you telling me that cinnamon rolls were your favorite, so I saved the one I got for breakfast and thought that you might enjoy it more. Ours aren’t quite as cinnamony as yours, but the icing is very sweet. If you have the time, I hope that you can write back to me some day.
Peace to you and your loved ones, and may Oriens guide you, Miss Moira.
Regards from your friend,
Regis.”
Young as he was, Regis approached his parents to ask for the proper coinage to send the letter off via a messenger. The Prince smiled and thanked them sincerely upon payment, and bid the messenger a farewell as they turned to head for Denocte, letter and cinnamon roll in tow.
is this a natural feeling or is it just me bleeding?
He doesn't know how things work here, exactly, but he does know that there are gods, and the court he resides within has one. That's enough, he supposes, and while Lasairian doesn't know all the ways in which others worship or any of that, he has his own way of doing things, and felt most comfortable with that. If he's wrong about it, if he messes up, hopefully he will find out so as to correct it. For now, though, he has heard some interesting things about the library, and wonders if maybe he can figure something out on both matters.
All he can do is hope it is as connected as he feels it is, and press forward with asking. That is what leads Lasairian deep into the halls of the library now, uncertain on if there is a place to stop and hope -- or ask -- or if any spot would do. He could have done it at the entrance, and maybe he should have, yet somehow he wasn't sure that would have felt right. It felt more like something private, something to say where he thought it was just the books, the trees, the dawn god and himself might hear it. If that was how it worked, at least.
Lasairian was really winging it on this, but if there was any place in these lands that felt right -- at least for him -- then this was it. Right here in this library, where it felt magical all on it's own. Like holy ground in some way. Lasairian couldn't shake that feeling, so he embraced it. Maybe most went to the peaks because it felt closer up in the sky, and that was fine. It just wasn't for him, and it never had been. If he felt pulled there by some unforeseen force, then yes. Lasairian would change his mind and go there.
He would just need to feel it deep in his bones, in the ebb and flow of his blood. Until then, his mind was set on this until it proved not to work. Not that he knew how long to wait, but he was sure, even had faith, that he would feel the need to step away if this was the wrong move to make. If this wasn't what he should be doing. After a while, Lasairian stopped and looked around. He did not know why here, this spot and this moment, but he thought there was a reason for it, for that heaviness in his hooves just now.
That was all he needed to lift his head, peering upward, "if it would be pleasing and right, could a room be made here in this place of knowledge, where I could put an alter in which to worship and pray? To show my devotion in those things with the knowledge I seek?" the words were reverent and soft, and Lasairian closed his eyes, hoping that what he said might be heard, that a room might be created here for such a thing. He yearned for that, but he would respect if none of it came to pass.
tag — any and/or @Random Events (( any response, from the account or an admin in some way on if the library creates a new room or not - i know it wouldn't actually count for worship stuff, either way - would be great, if possible! and anyone else is welcome to come tell lassie to stop being a dumb and that praying in the library won't work, lol! ))
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in all the world there is no love for you like mine
Together they descended Veneror, returning to Delumine in elated spirits. Oriens himself had blessed their union, tying them together with the invisible threads of love and life, and they were bound. Two souls, two bodies, one love.
Somnus could not remember a time when his heart was so full, brimming with warmth, adoration, and affection for the woman at his side. Every time he glanced her way, sidelong pools of verdant meeting the mahogany stare of warm adoration, he was undone. Completely and utterly. The knowing look in Eulalie’s beautiful eyes would bring a smile to his face, irrevocable and wanted, and they would brush together intimately as they walked the familiar paths to their home.
The place of celebration would not be the Dawn Court proper, but the Illuster Meadow. His wife - wife, how could he be so lucky? - had requested the open, beautiful landscape as the place to celebrate their union, and who was he to deny her request? Returning home had been a wonderful thrill, announcing to all that their union had been successful and Oriens had blessed them graciously, and after a night of rest from their travel, the celebration would begin.
Already the Illuster Meadow was decorated to accommodate and host such an event. Lanterns on rope were strung up to give the atmosphere light, the glow merry and joyful. There was a wooden archway decorated in flowers and drapery for the new couple to say their vows before the people of Novus who chose to attend, but the largest set up was the wide and impressive spread of delicacies and beverages assorted throughout the clearing. Tables were set up with cakes and sweets, or other desired snacks, and not too far were tops adorned with drinks of all sorts; wines, bubbly drinks, fresh waters, juices…
Singers sang songs of joy and happiness as the attendees began to gather, and Somnus smiled. It was endearing to watch the children frolic and play, to see Regis be quite the young gentleman and greet their guests as cordially as a youth his age could muster. Their son had been elated to learn of their successful blessing, wide eyed and grinning, and his joy had warmed his and Eulalie’s hearts.
The day was a calm one and mild one. Occasionally a breeze would sweep through the Meadow and cause the lanterns to sway gently, or caress the tops of of the nearby long grasses, but it was as though nature itself had blessed this very special day for the two equines of Delumine.
As everyone began to gather and mingle, Somnus remained close to his beautiful wife, stealing glances every now and again simply because he could. Eventually he turned his head and pressed his muzzle against hers in a gentle kiss, smiling warmly as he pulled back only slightly. “You look radiant today, darling.” Eulalie looked radiant every day, of course, but there was something utterly eye catching about the pure, unblemished joy that danced within her beautiful earthen eyes and overall expression. It made him fall in love with her all over again.
”To think that I am the man who will call you mine for the rest of my life… I never once imagined that I could be so lucky.” They had done so much together, gone through so much. Eulalie had gifted him with two beautiful children, and perhaps someday would gift him with many more. Their days were spent in joy when they were around one another, heartfelt and genuine, their little smiles and knowing glances meaning far more than he could ever hope to articulate. Her steady advice and gentle guidance to his even most stressful of days helped ground him when everything became to much, and once more Somnus recalled the words she had told him.
’You are enough.’ He was. He was.
Who knew that their first day of meeting would have lead them to this?
Welcome to anyone and everyone! After a bit of a delay getting this started, come help Somnus and Eulalie celebrate! :D To keep things somewhat? time correct, this wedding is set in autumn. Feel free to post to this thread, make your own threads, and tag Somnus, Eulalie, or both of them if you'd like them to respond!
is this a natural feeling or is it just me bleeding?
The library felt endless, all those rows and rows of books, all that was held within each one; Lasairian could only imagine how much was really there. The idea of reading all of them sounded grand, but it was much more reasonable that he would be long gone by the time it might take to get through them all. He had started to read quite a lot where magic and medical matters were concerned, but there would always be more to read, more to learn. Lasairian was ever so interested in all the different areas of each subject there were, and even getting through all of those seemed daunting. But he still wanted to do so.
He still pushed himself to read more, seek out more that had anything to do with the subjects that he was interested in. Going through the rows of books, checking the titles for something that screamed out at him. He wanted something that just called to him for today. It could be anything, Lasairian wasn't passing up anything that just reached out at him right now. Maybe he was just looking for a sign, for something, anything, to direct him on a path that was outside of his norm. Lasairian felt like there was too much that aligned with this place, and wondered if it meant something more, somehow.
He had given up so much getting here, and he ached from those losses, from all that had been lost along the way. He didn't like talking about it, didn't want to go there, but it was constantly lingering on his mind. That much couldn't be helped, no matter how much he had been trying to push it away. Lasairian didn't want to dwell in the past, did not want to be so caught up in what had been that he couldn't see all that was now in front of him. He was worried that was how it would be, how he would keep going. So he tried to throw himself into what he could be here, into trying to be better all around.
On and on he went, searching for that one book that made him feel a certain way, something aside from what he felt in general looking at all the rest of them. Lasairian already had a deep love and respect for knowledge and the books that contained it, so it had to be something that really pulled him in, something that outshined everything else. It could be just a word, or the way a book looked; anything that caught his attention in a way that the others weren't right now. Not that quiet interest he regarded most with, but something more. He had to find that, even if it took all day and all night. So he kept going.
tag — any
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It’s impossible to tell which hour it was when the sun grew brave and bold enough to rise through the ash-night sky. There was blackness and then there was pastel light rising above the sea. Rain came with the sun, bloated and fat drops that weighted down all the soot and drowned it in the sea. Whales and rain made ripples in the waves. Gulls swooped low as they returned to the shoreline. The dune-grasses sighed happily in the fresh, clean rain.
Everything was quiet in a sad sort of way, as if the land that was not harmed was thinking only of that island the was.
And yet--
The island had disappeared from view. Even as the soot was still settling from the eruption that had most definitely happened, there was not a trace of any volcano on the horizon. There was no distant shore winking and in out of the waves like a star.
There was no island.
Instead on the horizon was a strange stretch of hardened lava cutting through the sea like a black blade. It rose through the water, as if the sea was nothing but a shallow puddle it decided to conquer. The lava made itself into something like a bridge, a low center path with archways rising up around it like a cage. And in the spaces between the lava, the sea, and the sky everything was both queer and terrifying.
Pearls jutted from the hardened stone like teeth waiting for a meal, or maybe a prayer. Oysters made themselves in arcane shapes and patterns, trapped forever like fossils. Marble rose into small spires on the path like bones peeking out from the stone (bones that the sea was too shallow to hide). Seaweed grew from the cracks even though it clearly didn’t have enough time to seed and root in that hard lava rock.
Each mile of bridge held more mysteries. There was a stretch that looked too thin to bear weight, where the sea peaked through the cracks like a hundred, endless eyes. Another mile had across it bits of scale that shone like trapped stars across the black when the sun shifted out from behind a cloud. The last three miles of it were a tangle of things that made no sense-- feathers opening like flowers, pink sand blowing patterns across the black, metal cogs spinning and counting no mortal time, and then fruit blooming pale orange from stone instead of vine.
What was more terrifying than all the strangeness were the suggestions of great ocean monsters appearing between one wave and the next. Every few moments a tentacle would rise from the white froth, red as blood and cracked with flames that surely couldn’t live in all that salt-water. Scared and broken fins could be seen cutting through the current, each the bright color of amethyst that no whale or shark could claim. Blooms of cooper ink would appear across the churning blue sea from no visible source. The only thing obvious in the sea around the bridge was that death was waiting, and waiting, and hungry.
On and on the strange bridge stretched. It seemed that the mortal world ended on the other side of the lava rock and some other world began. There were no birds flying over the sea and no Pegasus calling out to the horses walking the bridge. The blue sky was empty, empty and thick as glass. For the sea air denied the existence of anything between the sea and the island that was no longer visible.
But finally, although it took hours, the first horse discovered the end of the strange bridge.
And the end was nowhere.
The bridge ended in a wall of ivy, that seemed only to exist the moment the first horse stood before it. It rose endless from the pathway, out towards the horizon and higher in the sky than any mortal eye could fathom. The ivy swallowed up the sun and the moon until it glowed with the muted light of each. The leaves were slick, and shining, and almost a green dark enough to look black. Berries could be found in small clusters. On closer inspection each cluster of berries seemed to be pulsing. Maybe they weren’t berries at all but a million tiny hearts from which the veins of ivy grew.
That first horse tried to turn away, he tried to be sensible and run back to shore where the sun shone and the birds sang like birds should. He wanted the rain and the clouds with warm sand beneath his hooves.
But then the ivy started to learn towards him as if a wind was blowing in, hot and fast, from the other side of the wall.
He forgot all about running back to a place where the world wasn’t so strange and terrifying.
How to Participate!
The ash and smoke from the eruption of the volcano has settled. The sky is clear, although it feels a little too thick to be considered normal. When the black clouds fully dissipate a bridge made of lava is revealed. Strange arches of rock, and things that don't belong, are curling like branches over the pathway. The bridge seems to go on for miles, and miles, and miles. At first it looks like the bridge goes into the horizon before cutting off abruptly into nothing. A terrifying thought when the sea around the bridge is frothing with more than just the waves.
But as horses finally make their way to the end, there is nothing for them to find but a wall of ivy. It stretches deep green from the sea to the sky, and it's dotted with berries that pulse like hearts. If there is an end to all that ivy no one has found it. A wind is blowing though and the ivy is reaching out to the horses close enough. It all makes it easy to wonder....
What exactly is on the other side of that wall. Is it a monster or the end of the world?
A NOTE: There is no way around the ivy. The air is too thick to pass and the ivy seems to go on forever. And should a horse try to swim underneath it, they will find that it extends below sea level.
Each character may reply to this post only one time. Rolls will be done and a staff edit will be posted at the end of each reply with Random Event results. You are more than welcome, and encouraged, to branch off into individual threads to interact with other characters. You may respond to the characters before you or your reply could be set at a different moment in time (this is totally up to you). This event will last for several days IC time.
If you reply to this thread, it gives you +1 post in an SWP.
All replies after June 1st, 2019 will not be considered for a RE roll.
Possible rolls and their rewards are as follows.
1 : 20 signos
2: 40 signos
3: 80 signos
4: 100
5: 140 signos
6: A mollusk shell that when crushed IC will allow for an extra RE roll (but only for RE threads during the SWP, you will have to post a memo at the bottom of your thread when it's being used) Please message @sid or @nestle with questions. If this remains unredeemed, you may use it in Act VI.
For the last two days, the lands of Denocte had fallen under a warm spell—atypical, for the winter season, and somewhat concerning as the snow had begun to melt only to refreeze at night. On the third day of the abnormal heat, however, the residents of the Night Court were treated with a formidable sight on the horizon. The clouds were like mountains: thick, ominous, and gunmetal grey, they blocked the morning sun and promised a snow storm to erase the memory of heat. Those clouds rolled over Denocte for two days, with little to no event, aside from innocent, light snowfall—which seemed nearly mystic, more crystalline than real.
But the tranquility, the placidness, was ingenue. A restlessness existed beneath the surface; a thinly veiled threat, that nearly pulsated within the clouds. It was the sort of tension that existed in nature when a predator appeared but remained unseen, marked only by a shift in the wind, an inherent wrongness. The clouds, however, only lurked—but it had become too much, for one of Denoctian’s inhabitants.
With the strange weather, dreams came to Antiope. Each night, they arrived, vivid and horrible, as though the gods she had condemned had been resurrected. There was a wrongness to the dreams, however, an inaccuracy of truths, a dishonesty to her memories. It manifested as a subtle suggestion that the dreams were not as terrible as they may have seemed, in a reflection of the weather that was at once placid and menacing.
But the dreams, the dreams. They were characterised best by their restless urgency, by the sense that there was something forgotten within them—
There was snow in the jungle.
The marble temple of her gods was longer marble, but crude stone.
The statues, beheaded and destroyed, lay on the earth as though sprouted from it.
Something dead lurked in the shadows.
Something dead lurked in the shadows.
It smelled of bonfire smoke and the sea.
Of darkness—darkness—darkness—
What took the shape of darkness?
Go to the mountains, the dream whispered.
Go to the mountains, it whispered.
Go now.
The winter was dark only in a way that winter can be. The world was asleep, hibernating, and perhaps that was a metaphor for other things. The only colours were deep brown, slate, and the pristine snow—the clouds bled what little remained of the world’s colour, creating a greyscale scape. The journey to the mountains seemed desolate and the mountains themselves, also desolate and jagged against the furious sky.
They could not be here, those gods of old, not in a land belonging to other gods—not in Caligo’s shadow, certainly. They could not be here, those dead and arrogant deities.
But did the dream not suggest something dead, in the shadows?
Climb, the dream had said.
And the sky broke.
Quickly, abruptly, the mountains were engulfed by cloud and ice. And from them came the snow that had been promised for days in a vicious whiteout. The ax would feel heavy. Too heavy, almost. But there was no option except to climb, and to continue climbing. Why, why was the ax so heavy? There was something ominous about the cliff up ahead—but the ground flattened, temporarily, and would give respite from the ascent. There was a darkness to it, even through the snow… and nearer, nearer, it becomes obvious why.
A bear emerged from a small, secluded alcove with fury and jewelled eyes. It bellowed, and the ax… the ax, well, it began to burn.
After a particularly violent snowstorm envelops the Night Court, @Antiope will find herself called to the mountains. She cannot explain the calling - nor can she resist it. It will beat at her soul, tugging her like an invisible string, breaking her heart in half with the promise of putting it back together if only she'll come along. But when she does, she'll find herself engulfed in another storm - and she'll find she is not alone in the mountains.
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This quest was written by the lovely Syndicate. <3
