The summer sun was high in the noonday sky, blazing hot and bright as he stepped through the sand. With each step, Voltaire sank deeper into the warm and golden grains, and the sand forced its way through his fur, itching with every step. His blue black coat glittered in the sunlight, bringing a shine along his back and through his ombre hued mane and tail. And on his head, the burdensome crystal horn seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. In the heat of the summer, the weight seemed more onerous than usual. But as heavy as his heart was, his mind was busy enough to keep him from dwelling on it.
His dark lashes pushed away the sand as it blew and stung against his coat, and the dryness in the air caused his skin to feel tight against his muscular frame. He was uncomfortable, but this continued to be a part of his penance. It was a punishment he had to bear, to atone for his sins.
He blinked against the golden sunlight, willing away the heat as he pressed onward into Solterra, deeper into this new and mysterious land. The stallion did not know what secrets it held, but knew it was somewhere new. A place where he would find a fresh start. In the past several years, the blue stag seemed to always be on the run – always abandoning his past in favor of someplace new. It was as if he could never outrun the past that haunted him – as if he could never compensate for the betrayal. But still, Voltaire had to try and find his peace once more.
Ahead, he saw the Day Court rise from the wasteland, a single beacon of hope in an otherwise harsh world. Its sandstone walls were tall and ominous, but inside, he knew there would be shelter from the elements. Despite his constant self-flagellation, Voltaire continued toward it, stepping through the narrow arches and into the courtyard of this kingdom. Here, the dust on the cobbled floor seemed to blow away, the halls well kept by the sages of Solis. Stopping only once he was deep within the temple, the blue stallion whinnied to whoever would come to find him, the sound rebounding from stone walls to call them here.
Let them come. The strangers and the demons. It would be a welcome distraction from the nightmares of his past.
His dark lashes pushed away the sand as it blew and stung against his coat, and the dryness in the air caused his skin to feel tight against his muscular frame. He was uncomfortable, but this continued to be a part of his penance. It was a punishment he had to bear, to atone for his sins.
He blinked against the golden sunlight, willing away the heat as he pressed onward into Solterra, deeper into this new and mysterious land. The stallion did not know what secrets it held, but knew it was somewhere new. A place where he would find a fresh start. In the past several years, the blue stag seemed to always be on the run – always abandoning his past in favor of someplace new. It was as if he could never outrun the past that haunted him – as if he could never compensate for the betrayal. But still, Voltaire had to try and find his peace once more.
Ahead, he saw the Day Court rise from the wasteland, a single beacon of hope in an otherwise harsh world. Its sandstone walls were tall and ominous, but inside, he knew there would be shelter from the elements. Despite his constant self-flagellation, Voltaire continued toward it, stepping through the narrow arches and into the courtyard of this kingdom. Here, the dust on the cobbled floor seemed to blow away, the halls well kept by the sages of Solis. Stopping only once he was deep within the temple, the blue stallion whinnied to whoever would come to find him, the sound rebounding from stone walls to call them here.
Let them come. The strangers and the demons. It would be a welcome distraction from the nightmares of his past.
