take this burden away from me and bury it before it buries me
When Elena had first come to Novus she had smelled of mountain air and pine forests like loneliness and sorrow. It had clung to her skin like a memory, an omen. And now she stands here, having lived in Novus longer than so many other places (long enough to fall in love, find magic, find immortality, have a child, and love her community) and now she smells of wild air, the kind that echoes the rain and wind and freedom. She smells like ocean and brine can feel the way the salt has dried her mane in tangling curls that lay against the gold of her neck. She warms herself by the fires. There is nothing she loves more than this, than bathing herself in the emotions of others as they sing, tell stories, and laugh with one another. The wind carries her thoughts high into the sky with the smoke rising. Her worries burn to ash.
Those brilliant blue eyes watch as Elliana disappears into the forest with the other children. You will not race the fire, she had told her daughter. She should know better, she would have better luck telling the west winds not to blow. She walks through the fires, looking upon each as the flames flitter and grow as if delighted by the golden girl’s presence. Fire, it has always been more friend than foe. It had brought her to Tenebrae, the fire in her lantern had led her to that lake, and it had delivered her Elliana.
The music of the festival feeds her soul and soon those feet are dancing between the flames and her body is as fluid as smoke. It may be a race, but Elena does not run, instead her dance is like blaze of flames, moving and shimming underneath the night sky. This is not the first time she has danced amongst flames. It is clear in the way she skips between the embers blowing past her on a new spring breeze.
And just like that woman taught her that night in the storms, a night she cannot get back, she stands at the starting line and like wild fire, she readies herself to leap.
so take away this apathy bury it before it buries me
here is expectation hanging heavy in the air, as you take your place among the other horses lined up at the start of the race. Your heart hammers inside of your chest, nearly in time with the drums that begin to beat out the time remaining to the start of the race. On either side the bonfires dance along to its rhythm, waves of colored light flickering along the backs of the people who have gathered close by.
And through it all the song keeps weaving, in lilting tones that rise and fall with the flames. It’s captivating — and as you stare into the flames a thousand colors begin to leap within them. Reds and golds, violets and greens, blues and silvers, all of them twist together like plaits of a many-stranded braid. The air is thick with the smoke and incense curling around you, drawing you in deeper and deeper. As the tempo speeds up, you see a figure parting the smoke like waves.
The horse that stands in front of those who have lined up to start the race is the color of soot, with eyes that burn as brightly as the fires. Strange runes are painted (or are they scarred?) down their sides, shimmering as the light falls upon them. The stranger does not smile, nor speak — they only stare at you with their fiery eyes. There is nothing gentle about the look they give you, or about the way they seem to look through you instead of at you.
With a curt nod of his head, the music abruptly stops. The bonfires shiver in golden tones on either side, and the line of horses readies themselves.
A single cry marks the start of the race.
Every horse leaps forward as one through the smoke, and you with them.
The beginning of the race is a flat stretch, with each struggling to gain the lead. A row of fires lights the way, but perhaps the way they close in around you and block your path is cause for alarm. Or maybe you are one of those vying for first position, and do not notice the way the smoke grows thicker, and darker, and heavier, like something more than wood is burning, going into the first turn.
And yet directly ahead of you a new fire waits, like a hedge of flames waiting to be jumped. The fires reach hungrily for the air, for you, and something — perhaps it is instinct, or fear — tells you it will not be so simple. On either side of the fire is a path leading around, a slender space big enough for one to pass through at a time. Against the brightness of the fires, the darkness of the path on the right makes it impossible to see what lies in wait.
But to the left, there is a spark glowing red and hot.
To continue the race, you must reply to this thread with your character's choice. There is no word limit, and you can be as creative with the prompt as you'd like! The first obstacle features a fiery hedge that your character must decide to jump through or run around. The race splits here, and their decision here will influence the rest of the event for them.
Choices: run through the fire, take the right path, or take the left path.
@Elena
take this burden away from me and bury it before it buries me
Light flitters in the corner of those blue eyes, other flames, other fires, and there are other bodies too, but she is so focused on the way her bodies hums and breathe that she can no longer tell the difference between bodies and fires—both of them are alive, so how does it matter any way?
The only interruption she finds is the sound a flute in the distance, it sing over the rest of the instruments, and Elena thinks, for a heartbeat, she must find the one that plays that flute. She almost leaves the race, almost leaves, until a flame flickers unbearably close to her, she feels the heat but no pain and her attention is focused once more.
They change colors, and Elena breathes out and she swears she sees flames, like the dragons in that city (that city that she will not speak of, that she will not cross a bridge too again—let the nightmares stay there and rot). And it is suddenly bright blue all around her. Like Lilli’s eyes, like Valerio’s, like her mother, her grandmother. And she wants it put out.
Let her go.
Let her run.
Let her race.
Strangers look at her, but they are nothing more that embers in the night, and she is looking far ahead them now.
Let her go.
Let her run.
Let her—
And she races off. She dives into the smoke as elegantly as the dolphin dives into the sea. (She can almost taste salt for a breath of a moment.) Once more, she does not run, she dances, in between each of them, Elena leaps like a ballerina, she twirls and twists, and sa shays. She has always meant to dance amongst fames. The smoke grows thicker, but she acts as though it were just ribbons extending from hands. They are nothing more than a part of the dance. It is why, when the walls of flames appears before her, it is not blocking her path, but opening its arms and Elena tucks her feet and throws herself.
so take away this apathy bury it before it buries me
aybe you already know this race is a test of your bravery (or is it faith spurring you on now like all you know is worship?). Maybe you only have something to prove to yourself, and that is why you find yourself gathering your strength and aiming for the flames when others swerve away.
Whatever it is, you find yourself staring down the flames as they rise bright and tall before you.
But oh! The flames are staring back.
The smoke is thicker here, but not unpleasant. The smell of frankincense and lotus blossoms fill the air around you as you leap through the flames, and while the fire singes the ends of your hair you pass through it quickly enough to avoid true harm. But as soon as your hooves touch the ground again, the smoke descends on you like a blanket.
It swirls around you, obscuring the path from view. Shadowy figures dance in the smoke around you, and strange voices echo in place of the music from before. They start as a whisper, but with every step they are growing louder, and fiercer, and clearer. The smoke takes shape around you, as visions swim across your vision. Perhaps they are visions from your past or future, like the smoke is only a diviner showing you the way. Perhaps they are of fearsome beasts that you can feel clawing along your hips or stumbling beneath your hooves. Maybe the visions you see make sense only to you, or you struggle to sort through them at all.
But as the smoke twirls in ribbons around you, embers start to drip from the sky like smoke. They fall upon you like stars, catching in your hair, your teeth, the crease of your spine, lighting the smoke around you. In them you can hear the voices from before, whether they are laughing or singing or crying for you to run faster, faster, faster.
As the smoke begins to lift, you see another horse still running ahead of you, and the race demands you catch up and fight them for the lead —
But the embers are leading to the side, like miniature stars that can leap and dance without the burden of wishes to weigh them down. And perhaps it looks to you like they are leading to another shortcut, or are beckoning to you and you alone to follow.
To continue the race, you must reply to this thread with your character's choice. There is no word limit, and you can be as creative with the prompt as you'd like! For a few moments, there is only smoke that clouds your vision, showing you images of whatever may have meaning to you. Once the smoke lifts, it's clear that you have lagged behind in the race. However, there are embers that catch your attention and almost seem to be leading you in a different direction...
Choices: let the embers lead you on, or follow the horse ahead of you
@Elena
take this burden away from me and bury it before it buries me
Those bright blue eyes widen as she finds herself in the air and she realizes she is not jumping up and away from the fire, but like any great dance partner, it is the fire that is holding her up, holding her strong. The smoke fills her lungs and she does not choke, does not cough, but it floats her up, it makes her lighter. Smoke was just warm air, just remnants of fire, it was nothing to hate or to fear.
The flames reach up and catch the edges of her blonde mane, but it is nothing more that a wild caress, and Elena will hold no grudges towards it. Her thoughts echo when she lands. The smoke was just remnants of fire, it was nothing to hate or to fear, but shadows—they were another matter entirely. Shadows leaps out from the smoke. Shadows, it was always shadows. Elena wants to scream and she tosses her head as she runs, they take no shapes, they just reach towards her until suddenly, before her, he appears. Embers cling to him, and his eyes are bright like suns, suns he swallowed, but suns in his eyes all the same.
He stares at her and she does not move, they do not move. It is only when the embers start to fall, sliding onto her skin (it burns, she knows it is supposed to burn at least, but she cannot feel them) that he starts to dance. Elena knows then it is not him, just an imitation. The shadow man would never dance with her again—she would never dance with him again.
And she is running again, racing between the embers, racing any smoke and shadows that may try to catch her. Her heart pounds in her chest and the embers throw themselves to the side and blue eyes catch onto them, maybe that is the way she is supposed to go, she thinks, but then another horse appears as the smoke begins to part, and suddenly she has something to prove, suddenly Elena thinks, she might be able to win this race after all.
so take away this apathy bury it before it buries me
aybe it’s instinct that has you inching closer to the other horse, closing the distance between you and them; maybe it’s the spirit of the race demanding you to be better, faster, stronger than them. Maybe it’s the dizzying scent of cinnamon and apple spice that washes over you with each new wave of smoke.
The ground is a blur beneath your hooves, the smoke a veil that wraps around your body and coos stories of triumph and victory in your ears.
The world feels like an insubstantial thing now, shifting and dancing with the flames. You can hear voices around you, but you can’t make out the words; each time you try to focus your attention slips away, much like the feeling in your limbs, until it feels as though you are a thing detached from your own body, floating along through the air. Perhaps you look down then and see yourself as others see you, a wild thing streaking like madness towards the finish line.
Or maybe you are only noticing how the horses around you seem to be turning to fiery shades of red and gold, their bodies cracking apart like a log crumbling to ash in a fire.
The fire was supposed to protect you. That is what everyone had said — that the smoke of the bonfires was a blessing, that it would ward off evil. So why does it feel, then, as if you are descending into madness?
The world glows brightly around you, as the smoke fills your nose and more visions flash like embers across your vision. Ahead you can see the finish line drawing near, twin bonfires dancing with all the brilliant colors of an aurora.
But it seems so very far away, your legs feeling more and more like dead weight. And as you slip in and out of waking-dreams, it becomes a matter of whether you’ll even make it.
To conclude the race, you must post a closer. There is no word limit, and you can be as creative with the prompt as you'd like! You are growing tired with how long you've been running, but you can just see the end of the race in the distance.
You are free to write your character crossing the finish line in this post, or you can simply write them reacting to the effects. Once all the race threads are completed, a dice will be rolled to determine the winner and the results will be posted in each race thread.
Thank you for your participation, and good luck! We hope you enjoyed the event!
take this burden away from me and bury it before it buries me
In the span of a heart beat, Elena smells autumn and in turn she thinks of the lake, that god forsaken lake where she made so many memories only to have them torn away by a goddess, a temple, and a monk. Her legs thrum harder against the earth as she reaches out to overtake the horse in front of her. This may have started out as a dance, and maybe it still is, but Elena is eager to be the one to lead. She can almost count the beats in her head, 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. Again and again, it is less like a waltz and more of the wildness of a tango.
She can hear voices around her, they swell like a symphony, but they play a song that Elena either does not know or has forgotten. But she cannot let her attention linger on it for too long, one wrong step here could cost her more than just the race, just the win. Her legs move mechanically, and if this is truly a symphony surrounding her, well then, she must be the drums. It is only when the sound of that flute returns to her, that Elena returns back to her body and pounds against the earth in rhythm still, and if her legs were the drums, well then her heart was a flute, not any flute, but that flute.
Elena looks like nothing but a flame, bold and brazen as her gold skin is ignited by the fires. The fires burn around her and she sinks into the smoke, into the heat, into the burning. Yet, she can still breath, can still see, and she feels no pain. Is this what it feels like to be fire? She wonders.
And then there is nothing but her and the finish line.
And the reality of the race she is running comes crashing back into her with a startling reality. Elena is tired, so tired. This is her reminder that she is not fire, because fire never slows, never fatigues. Then she will not be fire, she decides, but water, cascading over the cliff side of her ancestral home. Just like it plummets into the glistening lake below, so too does Elena over the finish line.
so take away this apathy bury it before it buries me
They had said there was a message waiting in the flames, for those who looked closely enough. Perhaps you are finding that message now, as the flames pressing against your sides reach out to kiss your skin instead of nip at it.
Many of the horses around you are beginning to crackle apart, one by one, like logs splitting in the flames. And perhaps only now do you realize that it was not the other race participants running beside you — it was the fire. The smoke washes over you in waves of cinnamon and frankincense, it wraps around you like a shield. Perhaps, just perhaps, you begin to understand the whispers of protection that had swam through the crowds all night.
These visions will stay with you for some time to come. You might dream of the things you saw in the flames, or maybe it will come to you during times of quiet reflection. An aura will seem to settle over you like a halo, like there was magic after all in the flames that is slow to wear off. All around you can see the way the flames flash on their own like they’re trying to tell you something, reaching out like they cannot bear to be apart.
And you —
you are not the first to cross the finish line, but all the meadow, all the fires, all the dancing flames seem to sing your praises when still you stand a victor of the fire race.
Aspara has won the race, and it is up to you to decide how your character finishes/whether the effects from any of these REs stays with them! This is just a final RE to tie up the last of the races. ♡ Again thank you so much for your participation, and we hope you enjoyed this event!
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