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 day had come where he had managed to get the right ways up and get marching onwards. As much as one could march while their body was coated in charred flesh. Pieces of it flaked off with his movement, showing raw red flesh beneath it. It would heal, in time. He had never seen a building like this one. His herd had lived in the nooks and crannies within the volcano. Its ebbing and flowing noises had lulled him to sleep as a child. He had never seen the higher cliffs that were said to be bathed with the art of his ancestors. Those heights for only those who could fly. Aeon was very much grounded.
He had been amazed to meet others that were born grounded. That never had wings. The Volcano had erupted into fiery anger and now here he was. He felt like he might awake and things would be back the way they were. He almost feared that this would happen. This world was fresh and ripe for exploring. Aeon still didn’t know exactly how it worked.
He marveled at the structure, how the stones were all slotted together. How did this happen? How was it even possible? “Hello! I am Aeon. I am here”. He shouted into the void, hearing the echoes shouting back he flinched and looked around him for the source of the mysterious voice.
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
Sticky and burnt his flesh was seared throughout. Battered wings with missing feathers, scraggly held by his side. The burden of carrying his wings irritated the colt. What use were wings when you could not fly? His once impressive coat was now sooty black. It would be some time before he was recognisable beyond a sooty mess.
The irritation from being burnt was worsened by the pain of his horns beginning to protrude. It was something akin to teething. This aching headache and the feeling of the growing presence of the horns was taunting. His patience was already worn thin by his current physical struggles.
To make things worse he had wandered in the dark lost in his thoughts. Now only god knows where he was. This clearly wasn’t the Dusk court. It smelt different, it looked different. There was no land that looked like this that was described to him. Not that being here was unpleasant. The unknown put Aeon on edge. He didn’t know who or what to trust. Everything was different here, there were horses that walked and didn’t fly. Some that were even born without wings.
He looked up to find himself before the enormous lake. The sun was still nowhere to be seen. The embrace of the moon hugged the water's surface, reflecting beauty and dazzling light. He had never seen so much water in his life. He felt called to it, as though it whispered to him. He stepped towards it. The feeling of uncertainty washed from his body. It made no sense whatsoever that he would feel so comfortable approaching the water.
Without hesitating he flopped into the water, his belly smacking the surface creating waves. The water felt cool and silky, the bottom was soft on his hooves. Unfurling his wings he let them float, taking the weight off his tired body. He rolled and tried to float on his back, laying in much the same way he had landed from falling down the volcano. Unfortunately this resulted in more spluttering and sinking, his body weight didn’t float very well at that angle.
He kicked and righted himself, stretching out those painful wings once more. He looked up and simply stared at the moon, captured in its embrace.
Posted by: Valan - 01-01-2022, 10:42 PM - Forum: The Dusk Court
- No Replies
i tear my heart open, i sew myself shut
my weakness is that I care too much
and my scars remind me that the past is real
i tear my heart open just to feel
There is a raw beauty to night. The stars that twinkle and shine, glint with secrets in the expansive darkness. And yet, she has stopped seeing such brightness so long ago. To Valan, the stars no longer fill her with wonder like they once did. Seeing the way the moon light touched down on the snow, lighting the world up with a silver glow - she only felt the chill of winter sinking into the bones and body that no longer truly lived. Marbled, and cracked, used and tossed aside like a doll in the corner of the attic. A prized toy that no longer held the same joy when you saw it.
Except, she didn't look like a forgotten little toy. It was the curse of her species. She knew what others saw, a beautiful young lady - cranberry curls that encouraged a muzzle to brush their way through them. The subtle dips and curves of her body, the elegant arch of her neck, the roaming valleys and hills of her feminine form. The small mare knew she was designed to draw in others because what predator would survive if they couldn't entice the prey close enough.
And, the type of predator she was; required the prey to get extremely close. Close enough to ignore the blood-red eyes. To hold still, enraptured, as they strike like a mamba, fangs slicing through their necks, entering the jugular, the pulsating blood that would give them their continued existence. The very thought of it turned the mare's stomach, even as she tried not to think too hard of it. Instead, the goblet came to her muzzle, the chilled red liquid sliding down her throat. It almost seemed to burn, like she was ingesting poison. But, at least drinking the life-nurturing beverage like this meant she didn't have to hunt, bite, or kill. She would make sure of it. She wouldn't kill again.
Once was bad enough. Once was all she needed. She hadn't felt the justification she had hoped for. She hadn't felt empowered to see him dead in the bed, just as he had left her days prior. Valan swallows hard, forcing the rest of the goblet down her throat before casting it away. The vampires stood from her place in the silent manor. Her rose-hued gaze glanced around the dark walls, the window covers drawn back, showing the stars, the night world. A world she was forced to live in. A world she was forced to belong to, a monster. She deserved to be trapped in darkness, in isolation. It's where a despicable creature like she belonged. Caligo loves you too. The sudden thought, the soft voice of a lamb, cut through her mind as the memory came forth.
Instantly the mare was looking around, eyes growing wide, wild curls dancing through the air, searching the shadows for the delicate cafe-tinted mare as if expecting her to appear before snorting in self-disgust. Of course, the little lamb wasn't here. She was safe in Denocte, making friends, sparing her smile onto other innocent beings. Yet, just the memory of their meeting, the soft words, the fact she had stayed, it was enough to let Valan's head raise just a little higher.
She moved slowly from those dark halls, flickering of flames in the dark and dank manor, reminding her of how old and forgotten she was. Her master, where ever he was at the moment, would be so dismayed if he saw her so down upon herself. He was rather proud of how glorious he was, and how lovely she was; proud she was as his thrall. Was it not he who woke her with dismay at the thought that she would grow more beautifully than he if she was allowed more beauty sleep. She hoped he would return home again soon. His company always seemed to chase away her depression, the self-hate she tended to layer herself in.
He . . . and Thomasin both. Again, the memory of the lamb surged forward, and Valan sent it back, throwing open the doors of the manor and entering the night. The moonlight bathed her pale form, silvering it as she gracefully made her way through the snow. Ethereal, the way the moonlight ghosted over her, brightening those mulberry wine curls as they wafted around her in uncontrolled wildness. She'd have been an exotic sight for those who would have admired, a goddess meandering through the tundra to enter the capital of Terrastella.
The streets were silent, her hooves clip-clopping against the cobblestone. She didn't mind, she was expecting it. The rest of the world would be asleep, safe in their beds. They belonged to the sunlight, brightness, and purity of life. She belonged to the darkness, the dank, coldness of death, bleak and unforgiving. Let the precious ones sleep now, but this was a time when she was awake, her hooves maneuvering her through the land slowly, ears twitching in slight dismay at the silence. She tried to be okay with it, really did.
But it always came down to the same fact. A reminder in her aching heart as her pale pink eyes looked up and down the silent and still streets—a silent maiden alone amid the nights.
The mare had taken to long walks along the edge of the forest as soon as the morning frost started to cling to the barren limbs of the trees above her. It reminded her of when she first arrived in Novus, and in its own way it felt as close to home as she would ever be again. Despite having been in this new land for several seasons, she had not yet made any true friends. A random encounter here, a conversation there- as for concrete relationships? None.
Though she loathed to admit it, the woman hadn’t quite come to terms yet with the change. If she accepted fully that this was her new place in the world, that would mean believing that all hope was lost to see home again. To see her tribe, her family. To walk the halls of the Sage’s vast library and to learn about as many lives as there were fish in the sea or stars in the sky. If she were to finally settle in and call Novus her home, that would mean saying goodbye to everything that had come before it.
Change had never been a strong suit for anyone blessed by Gaia, though perhaps that was just the comfort of her old teachings. She wrapped herself in those words of wisdom like a warm blanket, some semblance of the life she knew before. Even if many of her old teachings had never sat right with her to begin with.
And so Torielle walked, leaving a trail behind her in the dusting of snow. It had not been much, but the winter season had only just begun and she expected there to be much more on the way. The morning air was crisp but clear. She scanned the horizon in hopes of seeing snow laden clouds, but there were none. Save for the small wild things that came to soak up the golden sun, the mare felt alone on the edge of the wood.
Anyone who did not know her at a distance might have thought her some sentry walking the bounds of Delumine. Her hooves wore a path into the earth from countless methodical steps- or so she liked to think. The veil in her hair and the silver that adorned her antlers would have marked her otherwise, the bells woven through the branches trilling lightly with each step, An entertainer, maybe, or a researcher or scholar. Perhaps someone of noble birth. Her dark pelt was a beautiful splash of colour against the cool landscape, the auburn tones of her hair contrasting with the dull hues around her.
In any case, the mare had to acknowledge that she had grown lonely. After arriving in Novus she had lost contact with her goddess. In that way, she had lost part of herself. She had lost her guide, her belief in goodness. She had been abandoned, and that more than anything had been the barrier between moving forward in this new land and pushing away all new experiences. The grief, it seemed, had been too much for the mare.
Step by step she continued to pace the same trail at the edge of the forest, in hopes of feeling just a little bit closer to home. Perhaps it was time for her to move on- to see new lands in this world, to learn new things. To stagnate was to die, after all, and Torielle had been stagnant for far too long.
The air of Denocte's capital was one Yvtala had yet to get used to - despite spending most of her time in its surroundings. Especially at night with the various lights flickering to life to illuminate the streets, a gentle mist settling as the temperatures dropped slowly to fully welcome winter into its mids.
It was rather busy this time of the year, with families getting together while others sought solace in the more quieter parts of the court. Yvtala chose the latter today. While not going out of her way to disappear, the streets she took would ensure that she would meet less people than normal. Of course, she did not relieve herself of her duty as Lady of her house as it was one that needed her to be on her game every second. So she still bidded anyone she crossed a kind word and listened to those that decided to hold a small conversation with her before moving along.
To many it would be exhausting, but her earlier precautions shielded her of this - even as her temples gave a slight throb in warning of an upcoming headache. Still, it did not stop her from completing her walk.
As she walked into the slightly busier streets to make her way back, she gave another nod and a slight smile to another that walked past her.
The stallion stalked through the realm. Novus. The word was still foreign on his lips, his tongue still struggling to form the word. Not much time had passed since he and his sister had arrived, finding solace after fleeing from their cruel father. Shaking his head, he let the memories swamp him as he moved.
“You will never be the leader that I trained you to be. You are a disappointment to myself and to our subjects. Your sister is no better. I would have been better off ending that disappointment when it hit the soil.” His father’s cruel words to him. The words that had spurred him to leave. To take his beloved twin sister and take her far from his terrible influence. To protect her before she could become more like him.
Grisha had always been the purer of the pair, the light to his darkness. While they had been graced with the same powers, the shadows that danced in their blood, Grisha had never been the dark being to wield them for her own gain. She used the shadows to soothe rather than harm. That was why he needed to get her out. To protect her.
To do what no one had done for him. Rhysand was the darker twin, the crueler one. Or at least that was the mask that he had been forced to don to protect himself from further pain. A soft snarl escaped his lips as he thought, his seafoam eyes taking in the mountain before him. There had been whispers of the peak, of the place to seek the gods that ruled this land. Taking the first steps, he let his limbs carry him toward that place.
“Your mother was the greatest disappointment. She gave life to you both, coddled your sister. She tried to keep you from me as well, though I would not let her. You were to be my heir. You failed.” The words had been venomous and filled with rage. That had been before the strike. The crack that echoed through his mind as hoof connected with ribs.
The top of the peak was a shock to the stallion. His dark head lifted, eyes taking in the statues around him. They meant nothing to the stallion, who had never had a god to follow. Stepping forward, he reached the center of the peak. He was alone, a fact that soothed the stallion as he reached for his magic without thought. The slumbering ice in his veins was a different type of blow. Oh how he missed the shadows that had once danced around him and could be channeled into infinite directions. There was something so painful about not being able to touch his magic. It made him wonder if Grisha felt the same.
Selecting a random statue to focus on, he lifted his head higher and glared at the god with cold eyes. “What good is a god when those that look to you are suffering? What better way to reach those that are hesitant to believe in anything than to reach in and help one that begs in silence for any assistance?” The words held venom so familiar to him that he flicked his ears back. If he wasn’t careful, it would be all too easy to become more like his sire than he planned.
“Do you see outside of your beloved realm? Do you care for those that cannot see you? Or would you rather let others suffer at the hooves of tyrants instead of caring? I had to protect Grisha… No one else cared to be there for us. The hard decisions, the pain that I had to endure to protect her from that bastard. No, I would never change the past. But why can’t someone screaming for help be important to a god?” He snapped as he dropped his gaze. A single tear slid down his cheek as he tried to understand, to make sense of the turmoil within his heart.
“I hold no resentment… not truly. But I can’t promise that I will align myself completely with one of you. What connection can I have with a statue that doesn’t even care for the sun and the moon. I am neither. No light belongs in my heart. I gave up the light long ago. I am the shadows, the darkness that can either soothe or harm. Perhaps in time I will be more deserving of the god’s care… All I ask is that you are there for Grisha. She will need some solace in this new world. Somewhere to belong.” He murmured, his words drifting away as he looked at the statues one last time before turning and descending the mountain once again.
"Speaking"
@ Notes: 790 words according to google docs <3
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
Whooshing and ringing tormented Aeon as his consciousness was slowly regained. Eyelids squeezed shut, as though keeping himself blind would prevent the reality from manifesting. Pain washed over his entire body. He couldn’t piece much together beyond that he was upside down. The sensation of falling still troubled him, but he was reassured that he had indeed stopped falling by the pain of impact to the ground. Tattered wings splayed on the grass, his 4 legs pointing to the sky. The feeling was somehow soothing, the grass was soft and cool. Aeon had never felt grass this lush against his skin before.
His life this far had been spent picking thin blades from mountain sides and rummaging for nutrition. His herd had the capability of seeking greener grasses with their flying. Aeon’s wings were not ready to support his body weight yet, leaving him grounded for the time being. His Body was not reflective of his potential. Awkwardly long legs and a neck he was growing into showed his age for anyone who observed him.
He was covered in a thick layer of soot. It stuck to his flesh in all the scrapes and cuts from his tumbling and it stung. Nubbly stumps of horns starting to protrude caused the colt to leave with constant headaches. The niggling feeling of an itch started on his lower back. He wiggled trying to scratch it against the grass without much success. He felt dazed and still didn’t dare to observe where he had fallen. The little voice in the back of his head goaded him that maybe he couldn’t open his eyes, and maybe this blackness was due to his death. He snorted to himself at this invasive thought.
He was not surprised that he was alone. He suspected that no one would come looking for him either. The herd had fled when the volcano had begun to erupt. He was no one's treasured child, no one's heir or pride. A pegasus who can't fly is a burden upon a herd of flying creatures. They would likely assume he was consumed by magma and perished. Maybe he was dead already? The intrusive thoughts continued to goad him.
He opened one eye slightly and was flooded by bright light. Immediately he closed it again and groaned. That was enough bravery for now.
the bitterness of winter or the sweetness of spring
you are an artist and your heart is your masterpiece
The night was cold: a kind of cold that sat underneath your skin and made its way into your bones. A kind of cold that demanded to be felt with your whole being. The sky was a particular shade of gray, sooty but washed-out, it was a tell-tale sign of the weather to come. Frost clung to whatever vegetation was still alive in the dark of winter.
Alone, the milky shape of a unicorn appeared. Dark waves of hair fell on either side of her neck, providing little insulation to her fragile body. Her winter coat had barely managed to grow in – all the warm, coffee-house colors of her skin were still there, just a little fuzzier than usual.
It began to snow; soft, fat flakes made their gentle descent from the muddy gray sky. She hesitated, a quiet sigh slipping through her pink lips as she turned her head to scope her surroundings – first to her left, then to her right. She was alone, blissfully alone. An unintelligible simper pulled at the corners of her mouth. She closed her eyes, breathed in the night air so deeply it made her lungs ache, then opened her mouth just wide enough to slip out her tongue and catch a single snowflake. Quickly she shut it, and in some foreign and childlike wonder, stood completely still so that she could relish the way the flake stung her before melting away and disappearing forever. Thomasin could stay there forever in that moment, wondering where the water she swallowed came from – did it journey far to reach her? Was it once running free in the rivers north of her homeland? Or perhaps it came from the ocean, once tangled up in the gills of a happy fish? If only she could taste its source.
After wistfully dreaming about faraway lands whose names she would never know, she opened her sad eyes to the path she stood on, watching the flurries begin to stick to the ancient stones that showed her the way. Straightening her posture, she moved forward towards the foreboding shape of a fortress.
The large keep would have turned most visitors away – but not the citizens of Denocte.
With a gaping entrance that opened like a hungry mouth, stone walls that climbed to the heavens, and a glow coming from inside that was akin to fire in a dragon’s throat, even Thomasin would find herself nervous to approach from time to time. But not tonight, for she was homesick, and seeking guidance from the powers that were much mightier than herself. The orange candlelight from the brick windows flickered and blinked, like curious eyes, watching the wayward lamb make her way inside. Thomasin, despite her constant apprehension, would always make herself at home in the Night Court of Caligo. Strangers would feel as if the keep might devour them – but this little lady would argue that they were nothing but inviting.
Tonight, the walls were alive from the luminescence of the fires; alien shadows played and skipped along the mortars, balancing on the gables, beckoning Thomasin to come closer. Every time she came here, it felt like the first time: magical. This place was familiar to her; these walls the best secret-keepers who were always willing to listen to Thomasin and all her woes – no matter how silly they might be.
She smiled a small, grateful smile, before making her way down the foyer to the center of the keep, where a large statue of Caligo stood erect, unchanged by time, each curve and edge of her shape still in perfect condition. Candles and tributes lay at the feet of the sculpt: flowers of different colors and sizes, jewelry and precious stones, pictures of loved ones. Thomasin admired each possession before setting down a small basket she had been toting with her. Removing the wrap, she revealed an assortment of muffins, along with some of foraging finds from earlier in the day: a handful of mushrooms, a few sprigs of rosemary, and a feather from a bird that was unknown to Thomasin, but nonetheless, pretty.
“Good evening, Caligo,” her voice was barely audible, just a half-step above a whisper as she began to lay her bounty out. “Forgive me, your muffins have gone cold –“ A familiar vice ensnared her throat. She was beginning to well with tears before gently shaking her head.
Was she actually crying over cold pastries? Maybe. Perhaps that is what it would look like if you were on the outside looking in. But deep within her heart, the mare knew she was upset over more than just her tribute tonight – although the temperature of her muffins was most certainly the tipping point.
After placing her arrangement, she folded her legs and laid down at base of the altar. With glossy, gray eyes, she looked up at the face of her Demi-Goddess.
“I could use some of your grace tonight, Caligo, if you might have any to spare.”
The heart in her exposed ribcage slowed its cadence as the lamb regained her composure, closing her eyes to begin her prayers. A few silent minutes went by, nothing but the wind whistling in the empty halls of the court. Once Thomasin was finished, she began to sing softly, a sweet and saccharine song that spilled from her mouth like honey, filling these lonely walls with a gospel that would make this place feel just a little less empty.
Visions of your pretty face send me into hyper space
Caught up in a palentary world
It had taken time to get the knowledge, the information together.
She had heard the naming-sounds used, the ones that seemed to fill with power, a sense of familiarity to her. Tempus. Caligo. Vespera. Solis. Oriens. It had taken time to be able to understand these naming-sounds seemed to refer to something not as normal as those she had interacted with. A part of her had been hopeful they'd be names of others like her - stars trapped onto this rock. But, as she heard those naming-sounds more and more; the feeling she got from them was bigger. It brought back memories of her creation. Of the powerful being that painstakingly put her back together. That had whispered her name through the pain, to remind her of who she was, had put her back together rather than let her fade as her molecules had been pulled apart by that black hole.
Whoever these beings were, they were more.
And so she'd been hunting for information, to the best of her ability, and it all led her back to this horrible location. Just staring up at the snow-ladded mountain, she could remember the heat as she free-fell. The pain of crashing into the mountain. From here, she could still see the burnt trees, the indentation of where she'd crashed like a meteor against mountain face. Her own mark on history, unintentionally made. She tried to ignore those memories, however, shaking off the memory of the pain, and fear; to instead look back at the mountain, at the path someone had indicated to her through awkward, jerky movements.
And so she stretched her winds, ruffling her feathers to dislodge any lingering, clingy stardust.
Taking a deep breath, she flipped her wings skyward, letting them arch above her, before bringing them down, repeating the powerful downward lifting-thrust movements to build up power before she lept from a standstill on a particular strong downward thrust. The star was once more airborne. Her path followed the curving trail, not wanting to get lost, even as she practically floated to the top, her flight more mystical, and graceful from the wafting stardust that trailed in her wake, bleeding off her flight feathers, mane and tail, and body in general. Her galactic eyes kept her focused ahead, a dark mark against the otherwise ivory-capped mountain, hues of bright neon pink, purple and blue standing out even brighter with the stark contrast of darkness against light.
She reached the mountain top faster than had she walked it.
But upon reaching the top she landed slowly. Her galactic gaze looked around slowly, her body practically humming with the power of this place. Senses were on hyper-drive as her magic filled her in on what she could already see. Power. Strength. Age. Wisdom. So many emotions, thoughts, implications filling her gaps of knowledge in, delivered from a universal mind-wave she still hadn't realized she was in the process of reconnecting with. That divining knowledge was still heavily based on giving her information and context for situations and locations she found herself in, and in this case, it was filling her up with the understanding that she had stepped onto the sacred ground of some very powerful beings.
She could feel nervous energy building up inside her.
In an effort to dispel it, the star began to move deeper into the oddly inspiring sight, feeling guided towards the different monuments to the five beings. She didn't have too much knowledge on who the names belonged to, but as she came across the first site, she felt her magic flare again. Images of the night sky, of the mysteriousness she felt settle over her senses when she entered Denocte's lands. That alone was enough to make her understand. This was the one, those spoke whispers of. Caligo. She pauses before the goddess's monument, before briefly lifting a wing. She's guided by instinct, plucking one of her long, glittering flight feathers, stardust wafting from the feather, even when it's plucked from her form, clear evidence she herself was made of the stars, not just borrowing from them. She set the piece of herself at the base of the monument, not aware the need she felt was a need to give an offering, and having little else to offer, little else to her person than what she herself was made up of.
She moved to the next, a being that seemed to spark with energy.
The monument seemed to fill her with energy as she stood before it. Hot to the touch, reminding her of the deserts she currently called home. The taste of spices on her tongue, the activity, and hustle and bustle of a boisterous nation. She didn't need any filling in. She had heard the whispers of Solis from the very day Jane had taken her in. She plucked another feather, being careful not to make it any smaller, nor larger than the previous one, not wanting to show any discrimination. Not wanting to show favoritism. Not wanting to entice anger from any of them. She moves on again, the next monument making her pause up. The senses she gets mean little to her, and but it fills her with scents that she'd remembered from a previous meeting, one with a stallion of land she'd not been to yet, Terrastella. With the image of the sun setting into Dusk, it helps fill in enough pieces to supply the next name of Vespera, the one she'd figured after she researched was associated with the end of the day, beginning of the night.
Like the other monuments before her, another feather was pulled, carefully laid out.
The next monument was the opposite, and she knew enough to not need the senses to fill in the blanks, this being would be the last of the quad, Oriens. The feather plucked, same quality, size, and length as the others; was laid out before she came upon the final monument. As she stepped forward, she could feel a shift in the feeling. Of power older than the other four. A sense, a distortion, as if time was slowing as if time had become meaningless . . . no, not meaningless, but subjective. She's silent and still before the vastly powerful being, before her knees crumbled, dropping the star to the ground. Time had passed since she'd last felt a power like this was over her. When a very similar power had crafted her back into something, when she'd been nothing. Whether this was the being who had halted her demise, and restarted her own time clock, she wouldn't know, but the familiarity wasn't something she could ignore. It wasn't something to dismiss. This time, the feather pulled wasn't a mere flight feather, but one of her primary, followed by a smaller, secondary feather that was concentrated with the star dust of the individual elements that crafter her nebula's colors. The large, dark feather was set down before the one she instinctively knew was Tempus, before the smaller feathers that shimmered with purple, blue or pink stardust joined it.
Slowly climbing back to her feet, the mare made her way back, until she stood between the monuments.
Equal distance, equal respect; she glanced from one monument to the next, each having been given a gift, and offering that she'd ripped from her own flesh and dust, all removed from the same wing, a noticeable hole now in the feathering that meant flight would be prohibited until it grew back, even if it preserved her ability to glide. She felt like she should say something, anything. Instead, she lay back down, her head bowing, words failing her, but emotions, her mind not. She might not be able to communicate with these beings verbally, or even in a means of traditional communication, but it didn't mean she didn't have thoughts, wishes, hopes. Hopes to find herself settling into this world. To be able to understand the others she found herself living alongside. To understand more about this land she'd come into. More about the beings that made this holy place so filled with power. Her eyes remained closed, the thoughts, hopes, dreams silently fading as she soon found herself entering a state of peace, a state of quiet contemplation.
It was the first steps the star would make to a life of a monk.
It was the first steps on her journey to devote herself, not to one of the gods; but to all of them.
FROM THE MOUTH INSIDE THE MIND
@Random Events Notes:: And now, Miss Veil can begin her life in devotion to the gods; now that she's finally understood what the names she hears are about <3 <3
Breathin' in you give me air, I'm living on your solar flare
Could you be my super nova girl?
It had been a good few weeks since her last visit to Caligo, her recent increase in work and the continued plaguing of headaches left not much time for her usual prayer. This is why Yvtala had decided to come up to Caligo properly on Veneror Peak. Not the brightest idea, she found out, when winter had started to get the land in its clutches. It however did not deter her from her goal. The trek itself went fairly uneventful, her thick mane shielding her from most of the cold until she found a spot she liked best and stalling out her worship items of choice ; consisting of a bell, a piece of black cloth and her black crystal.
Closing her eyes and bowing her head, Yvtala focused on centering her feelings towards her Goddess, banishing all other thoughts from her head and letting the air fill her lungs.
Veneror Peak had a certain… presence to it. It was hard to explain, especially to those who may not believe, but there were times like these where the air got heavy and it felt like you were on a stage speaking to the veil of the other side. It was here where many like her found connection with their god. While others might ask for things, Yvtala had no such need for that right now, she simply wanted to feel Caligo’s presence surrounding her and giving her strength once more.
“Caligo…” Her voice was soft as she spoke Her name, letting herself drift in the feeling.
@RandomEvents | speaks
Can't tag the Random Events account but ah well, welcome to all! She's just having a moment with Caligo. ♥
