Everything I've done, I've done for you. I move the stars for no one.
Sol sighed as he stepped out of his beloved home. Yes, he had made a home for himself in the realm of Oriens... A home that he loved. But there was something drawing him away. Someone that held his heart in her hooves and could do with it what she willed. Smiling softly at the memory of that hunt, at the words that she had screamed at the creature, he left Jiri asleep and headed into the court itself. Cally was the new lead, the sovereign that was trying to make a better Dawn Court for everyone.
Reaching the heart of the court, he entered her realm. Eyes were wide as he took in the palace that she now held. Turning to one of the guards, he dipped his head and cleared his throat. "Excuse me. Can you please let Callynite know that I am seeking an audience with her? I have very important things to discuss." He asked warmly, gazing at the area around him as the guard disappeared.
It was going to be hard to leave Dawn. He had pushed to make a life for himself in this court... But that was before things with Bel had went so completely differently than either had planned. Than he had been willing to dream. He had become a father in Dawn, had found a god that he aligned with. But yet he was willing to give it up for the chance to be with her. For the chance to see where they could go and what life they could have together. The family that they would be with Jiri.
Flaring his wings, he tucked them neatly and flicked his tail. His golden eyes were luminous, starting to glow as magic started to return. The hunt had taken much from him and it was nice to be finally growing and feeling the stirrings of the power within him. A smile graced his lips as he waited for the tiny creature that had once shot him with an arrow.
There is a gentle puff of sparkling green energy, as a small chunk of the ley lines crossing over Novus seemed to open long enough for a scroll to appear on the desk of Israfel, Sovereign of Denocte. It's tied with a bright green ribbon, that is stamped with a seal of Delumine's Sovereign's office crest. The little message waits eagerly as the sparkling magical energy subsides and returns to the leylines, where it sits dormant for the next time Delumine's queen asks for it to bend to her will.
Upon opening the message, a letter written in sloping calligraphy awaits the eyes of the Sovereign and Co-Sovereign, a request for a meeting of an urgent matter.
To the most esteemed Israfel and Luvena of Denocte,
We have not met proper, and I humbly apologize for this unsightly oversight on my part and feel I must respectfully ask for your forgiveness in such a matter. My name is Callynite, and I am the Sovereign of Delumine. I am certain you are both conflicted about my oddly timed message after no contact prior - I'm afraid Delumine has been left in a rather alarming state prior to my ascension to the crown of Dawn and aided with the desperate preparations for a bonding ceremony, wedding, and reception for my new husband and I, I am certain you can understand the struggles I've faced in making time to establish connections with other nations.
However, unfortunately; this message is less about establishing connections, and I fear I must approach you regarding one of your citizens who has been terrorizing one of my Deluminians. I do not wish to make any rash judgments against a member of your court without speaking to you both at length regarding the situation I have been introduced to shortly after taking the thrown. Please inform me of a time at your earliest convenience in which we may speak about the matter at hand.
I will be more than willing to travel to Denocte myself if to ensure this matter may be resolved to the satisfaction of both courts.
This post is set off the coast of Solterra's shoreline and in the PAST, when Saoirse is newly four years old. Content Warning: Predatory hunt/non-sentient animal death.
The water is cold, but those who've lived in the sea would hardly notice. Especially for the thrill of the day, what this event would gift. The promise of a future and a place in the clan proper. A chance to prove oneself as capable. The hunt was underway. It won't be easy, it won't be quick, but that was why there were a few days to accomplish this task.
Setting out, your gaze is eagerly searching for your prey. It has to be, as the seal was well known for camouflage as a defensive tactic. It would be hard enough already with the several inches of blubber to protect it that would require one to bite down hard to ensure the death, to be able to claim its hide. Once spotted, once grabbed, there was the thrash and bite to worry about.
You lose track of time in your search, but finally, you find what you're searching for. It seems so oblivious, but as you near it, hoping for a quick attack, the creature suddenly darts of, speed on its side, and you become aware that it had likely been watching you for as long as you had been watching it.
The flight of a desperate escape is matched with the flight of a desperate hunt. Failure could not be an option, not if you wanted to prove yourself, to avoid being stripped. So you give chase, using every possible tool, and trick you have in your arsenal. Cutting off its turns, anticipating its movements.
It's rewarding in the end, slamming into the creature. You're soon locked into battle, trying to tear through the blubber for the takedown. As you're attacking, you're also defending against the power in its body, the thrashing of its neck, even as it tries to grip you as well, but you're strong, you're determined, you have to do this, and you will do it.
Its thrashes are slowing down, and those moments seem to pass with the slowness of an hour. You don't give up, you don't let go, in case it's a trick, in case it's the last resort to escape. And as that seal finally stills, the hunt successful, you feel a rush of satisfaction, elation, excitement, glory. A skin to take back, a skin that would prove your prowess.
And it's all yours.
The day of the Hunt is finally here and @Saoirse heads out into the waters off Solterra's coast. Time melds into itself and she finds herself on the hunt, and eventually locked in battle with, the Leopard Seal that would eventually bring her the honor of Liopardi... and, eventually, the Morrigna.
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How to tag this account: @*"Random Events" without the asterisk!
The world was white, the snow blanketing Novus and making Uzi beam at the purity of it. As she gazed over the expanse of the plain, the sound of her bonded racing up behind her made her chuckle. "Oh my goodness! The white stuff is great!!!" Neema exclaimed as she bounded recklessly through the once pristine meadow. Uzi laughed aloud, her warm chocolate eyes watching the maned wolf play and frolic.
"The white stuff is snow, my dear. And it is nice now with the sun overhead, but being caught in a blizzard is less great. That I can promise." She laughed, dancing through the snow herself. As she approached the rust and ebony canid, she swept a wave of snow over her with her technicolor wing. Yes, it was a pleasant day after a day of such intense snowfall.
"We cannot play all day, Neema. We do have more work to do in the shop later. But it is such a nice day and a pleasant break from the hard work." She remarks dryly, closing her eyes and spreading her wings over the snow to catch the rays of the sun. This was a rare moment of peace, a rare pleasure that the mare would give herself. Neema was always pushing the mare to take time for herself and let work wait. Uzi had been struggling with her return, with the changes that had happened and the pain of the losses she had occurred since leaving. Rhone was nowhere to be found, and likely didnt even remember her. She was no longer a champion of her beloved court, no longer a member that was recognized. Now she was trying to find herself again and figure out where she belonged.
"Uzuri"
"Neema"
@Kazi Notes: Here we go! I cannot wait to see how they click!
Power changes hands in Novus frequently. Sometimes that power comes in the form of a Sovereign, and others it comes in the shape of a noble. Reinhart is not ignorant of these changes although he tries his best to be. His parents used to tell him to be proud. It was hard to have pride in your home when your very parents did not accept you for who you were. It was harder still to be proud of your noble house when it carried such a heavy, negative reputation. The majority of House Vogelstein was in denial or hiding from the truths buried deep within. The once prodigal son steps out of the darkness of the streets and into the main house of Denocte that his family owns. It is the main house for the noble family, although there are others in the other solar courts.
This is the place Reinhart reluctantly calls home. Since his parents left in search of him, the Lord and Lady of the House positions have sat empty. It is only recently that a new face has ascended to become the new Lady of the House of Denocte. There is a part of him that is hopeful she will be the breath of fresh air that House Vogelstein desperately needs. Inside him, there is also doubt. Reinhart is two men after all. The prodigal, doting son, and then there is Ezra who is free from the oversight of nobility. Reinhart believes more and more every day that Ezra is the truest version of himself.
He never has to hide who he is or loves. Reinhart turns his visage to one of the guards of the house and gives them a nod. "Would you retrieve our Lady of the House for me?" His pale lips ask the guard politely. They nod and disappear into the house that is lit with warm, glowing candles. Reinhart peers up into the rafters overhead as he waits to introduce himself like the good son he should be. Reinhart almost feels guilt for the trouble he'll cause her. Almost.
@Yvtala >__> I couldn't wait for a thread with you!
... try to breathe words out, But I’ve got nothing to say
someone holds me safe and warm,
horses prance through a silver storm
figures dancing gracefully across my memory
This felt silly, what did I actually think I was going to find here? But, I couldn't stop myself from coming. I'd heard from some of the other members of my new home. Uhm, what's it called. Terror Spell? Terra Stone? No. Terrastella, that's it! Gee, don't tell Liam I can't remember what it's called, I dunno if he'd let me leave if he knew I couldn't even remember the name. But yes, Terrastella, Dusk Court, oh . . . what was I going on about before?!
The stallion looked around the location he was in, as if that would give him the clues for his lost train of thought. He'd passed (Successfully, mind you! I didn't get lost!) into Delumine a while ago, when the sun was still in the sky - letting the swan's side of him carry his distance. It was a trick he'd learned early on in his years of being cursed, if the swan did the 'heavy lifting' - or rather flying, it seemed to go so much smoother. Likely because he wasn't flying with so much weight when he was a swan. One little bird compared to a fourteenhand stallion - you do the math.
OH! RIGHT! DELUMINE HAS A LIBRARY~ Or that was what I had been told by others in Dusk Court! They'd mentioned it in passing and I'd asked about it, and well, once I knew it was supposed to be a MASSIVE LIBRARY that was basically the pride and joy of a kingdom known for scholars - well of course I was gonna show up! Maybe there would be a book in here that would give me all of my missing answers~ That would provide me with a hint, a possible way of breaking this horrid curse I was under.
I didn't know how they would feel about a bird in the library either, and I wanted to make a good impression, so I figured showing up at night as a horse would be at least a little better than showing up by day as a swan - right? So, here I was, approaching the doors of a massive library! Oh, I couldn't wait to see what it was like inside! Wait, why are the doors locked?!
It took Odile roughly five minutes to realize the doors were not locked, but rather he was trying to push on a pull. Sheepishly pulling the doors open, the small ivory pegasus trotted inside. He jumped, hooves clattering against the floor as the doors slammed shut behind him. Ruffling both the feathers on his wings, as well as on his rump, he took a deep breath before looking around the rather dark, and what appeared to be empty library . . . huh, maybe coming as a swan during the day would have been easier. Someone might have been able to point me in the right direction then! Oh well, I guess I'll just have to go aisle by aisle, row by row, floor by floor!
"Nooooooww, If I was a section on curses . . . . where would I be hiding?"
"Speech" Thoughts
@Ceylon Notes: Hope this works for you :D
The filly was so unsure of venturing out on her own. She had recently turned a year old, and her father was finally letting her be a bit more independent. Oriens knew it was probably thanks to her aunt/mother/who even knows what to label her as. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she thought of the mare that her father was in love with. Such an unusual pairing, a flying stallion that could wield the solar radiation and a icy warrior battlemage from a different world. But Jiri loved them both with all of her heart.
Finding the meadow a pristine blanket of snow, Jiri giggled and leapt forward. She loved the snow, the feeling of the cold white fluff on her body as she danced and made it fly. This wasn’t the adventure that she had intended when leaving home, but she loved it none the less. The only thing that would make it better would be a friend to share it with.
That was one of the big things that Jiri wanted… She wanted a friend. Someone to explore the world and join her as she adventured through Novus. Someone that would help her turn Sol’s mane gray at an early age. The idea of such a friend made her giggle and she went back to dancing, pawing, and even rolling in the white snow around her.
Welcome to Wonderland, I'll be your guide
Holding your hand under sapphire skies
A soft flicker of light. It's what your eyes would immediately notice. That soft glimmer of reflecting sunlight on snow white feathers. It's nothing to make note off, however. Just a random swan flying through cold, arctic air. You can't know the swan's mind is full of grander thoughts, how could you? It's just a swan, isn't it? This frail bird, however, how odd it might strike you that it is choosing to fly in winter, when it could have already made its way south for the duration of snowy times. You might think it peculiar to even see a bird during this season. Much less such a soft and delicate creature.
If you were a hunter, perhaps you'd consider it a rare find. Your mind already alit with the possibilities of merchants and artisans eager to pay top dollar for those fine ivory feathers in a season where such feathers are hard to come by, much less the impossibility of finding freshly plucked feathers. A more delicate soul would enjoy just watching the swan fly, amazed at the grace and control it shows. If you were an Entertainer, you may try to mimic that grace into your dance, or sing of the beauty the sight shows.
If you were the one who sought the swan, however; your dry and cracked lips would stretch into a smile only fit to be seen on the face of Jeff the Killer. Twisted, possessive and eager to control the one who escaped you.
Regardless of who you are, you're likely to notice such an oddity. It's hard not to as the bird starts to appear more and more off. It's head whips around, as if it's looking for something, and for a moment you may notice that it seems to hover before descending.
That swan is soon in a graceful, arching dive, it's gaze still dancing all over the place. It's next actions cannot be missed, even in the low lighting of the setting sun. What else can one do but notice a distracted swan that flies straight into a courtyard column.
This graceful bird is no longer so graceful, wings flapping. If you looked closely you might see those black eyes hold a wealth of emotion, Confusion, weariness, trepidation. Odd for a swan, but dismissed easy after it's . . . unorthodox greeting with a slab of cylindrical stone. The swan doesn't seem to right itself, however. What follows is a series of escapades that feel as if they're straight from a comedy skit.
Your gaze would certainly be drawn to such a comical display as the swan honks in alarm, wings flapping until they clip the effigy of the central fountain, sending the bird into a spiral crash with the water below. The swan emerges sputtering and honking on its backs wings flapping and webbed black feet pedaling through the air. You might start to wonder why the bird doesn't just roll over when you notice the sun had now set, and the moon is shedding it's light.
You are not prepared for the light display that happens when the moonlight settles on the wings of the odd bird. You wouldn't be able to help it, you wouldn't likely be able to turn away; transfixed by what was happening.
-----
Finally!!! The moon touching my wings was like a blessing! I don't remember the last time I was on water, let alone around water when the moon rose. Immediately I could feel the magic grasping at me, and the water under me seeming to shine with light. My eyes shut, mostly because I don't like watching, but also because my current position made it brighter and more awkward. I knew what happened next well, anyways. The water would stream up, like it was under the control of another and being forced to dance. And when it would return to the body of water below, I'd be normal! As the light dimmed, and it finally settled down, I allowed my eyes to slowly open.
The spectacle was not to be so easily ignored. Where once there was a bird struggling to right itself, there was now a small pegasus stallion on that shallow pool of liquid. Thick white curls floated on the water, his hooves posed delicately over his chest, his hind legs draping over the fountain side. One wing was awkwardly crumpled up the side of the effigy spouting water onto his face, his other wing draping and extended out from the side of the fountain.
Wide, bright and youthful black eyes look around, and he seems to grow more confused by the moment. His ears pin and he finally notices a face. Had they been standing there the whole time? Odile smiles, his expression warm, gentle, filled with a dangerous level of naivety, "Oh! Hi there! Is this your fountain! I hope I didn't break anything, did I? I sure hope not! So . . . Is this Day Court?"
"Speech" Thoughts
@Liam Notes: <3 forgive me for the oddness of the post. I'm experimenting with the best way to write him.
I'm ready to bleed to make amends And sleep in this dirt we call our bed So tell me your secrets And join me in pieces
To fall and rewrite the bitter end
The whispers of the trees drew him inwards. He’d never seen such enormous trees. Their branches reached out to him welcomingly. The denseness of trees was something he’d never felt before. Otherwise it would have been uncomfortable for a larger creature to feel trapped. But that's not how this place felt. He felt sheltered, enclosed. It tickled his curiosity to investigate further. The chirping of the little creatures with snouts and ears disturbed him slightly. They were so much smaller he felt he had to take extra care to ensure not to step on them.
He nickered to them softly, greeting them. He gently pressed deeper into the trees unsure if they could understand him. His skin was still sensitive and peeling in burnt chunks. The exposed flesh beneath was tender and vulnerable. What exactly he was seeking here he was unsure. He felt lulled in here, as though he had followed the whispering trees for centuries. It was as though he was supposed to come here all along. Deep red eyes scanning the hollows of the trees.
What was the purpose of this place? Why did he feel so drawn here? He snorted softly and tried to sift through a pile of papers with his upper lip. Who was this place designed for? He squinted at the symbols on the paper and sighed. It seemed to follow patterns but he didn’t understand it. He couldn’t read it.
One of the many hanging lanterns caught his eyes. He watched it deeply, listening to the chittering of the trees. He tucked his wings in tightly and flopped himself down in one of the patterned blankets. He scratched his itching growing horns gently against a tree trunk, he closed his eyes overcome with the relief of the sensation.
I'm ready to bleed to make amends And sleep in this dirt we call our bed So tell me your secrets And join me in pieces
To fall and rewrite the bitter end
He was learning to explore this new much flatter land. There were areas with cliffs and water and such. But there was so much more open space. He could run, he could be free. He could almost pretend he was flying. Flying along the ground flapping his useless ragged wings. Damaged feathers following behind him. He practiced extending his wings, and pushing his skull forwards pointing his short stubby horns forwards. He would heal, he would get stronger.
He had no desire to return to the herd. They had never appreciated him, their lack of parental warmth had not built an attachment. It was as good here as anywhere else. His flesh still burnt clung to his skin like an undersized coat. He was a sooty winged mess. Occasionally he would cough and still hack up a chunk of dust or ash. But slowly his lungs were feeling stronger.
The lush grass felt slippery beneath his hooves, he was so used to running on broken rock and gravel. Where or why he was running he wasn’t entirely sure. It just felt so good to stretch out and go fast!
