"To the stars who listen— and the dreams that are answered."
A fog lay across the distant land, far beneath her feet. She had conquered the mountain in less than a day, from starting at the foot of the great stony beast, to finding a stoic rocky outcrop that pushed out from the side of the mountain, offering her the best view of the valley below. She watches as the fog swirls over the faraway trees and rocks and rivers, tucking horses away from sight and curling towards the foot of the mountain where it would, eventually, evaporate and become clouds.
Hanging with her head precariously close to the edge of the great cliff, Lyra looks like someone to have an inkling of jumping. She hasn’t the wings to guide her down to safety from the drop. Still closer and closer she leans, her piercing silver eyes pouring over the land below her and the crisp, spring breeze ruffling through her long black and white star splashed mane.
In just a moment, she steps forwards.
An onlooker would think that she was to plummet to her death, but instead she is agile and nimble, and her hooves seem to find purchase on the side of the cliff that seemed to not be there before, leaving her standing parallel to the cliff-face.
Such habits were common for the stargazing mare, as the rocky precipices were part of her home, and she was born clinging to the edge of a rocky mountain face back in her war-ridden birthplace.
Gleefully, almost, she bounds down the cliff face, her hooves clicking against the small rocks that jut out from the side of the cliff in the form of her 'staircase', their surfaces barely larger than her hooves. Soon, she finds another wide rocky outcrop and makes her landing there. Her hooves thump unceremoniously against the rock and the sparse grass, and breathlessly, she looks around.
These caves were not an unfamiliar landscape to the doe. She had found her way around The Heart Caves in Helovia, they had been been a haven when the wraiths attacked Helovia. Somewhere she thought herself and her daughters safe. Having spotted the caves while wondering through Novus she wondered if Tilney or Maude might have seen the caves and sought refuge within them. It would not do to just wonder past them, no she would have to investigate the depths of the caves. Knowing Maude and her curious nature her daughter would have most likely wondered into the very heart of the caves. Taking a breath she dipped her crowned head and entered stepped into the cool entrance of the caves.
The drop in temperature became more drastic the deeper she journeyed into the caves. The wet stone walls suggested that no light had ever kissed these stones. Loose rocks and sand made up the floor, it was dangerous and threatened more than a broken ankle. The doe found herself praying that Maude had not decided to explore these caves. They were different to the caves that made the up the heart of Helovia. Both were mazes, those who got lost among the endless corridors rarely ended up seeing daylight again. Their bones simply became apart of the decor in the caves, stepped upon by more unfortunate travellers who were then clued into their eventual fate. Fortunately she had not yet stepped on any such decor. Hoping that if Maude or Tilney had come down here, they would have turned away by now and returned to the surface as she now was going to do. These caves were not a place to get lost in and she did not have any wish to join the aimless souls that continued to wonder without their bodies. Arah had seen enough in her short life to know that wondering spirits were real, she had seen them. Not an overly superstitious mare these were really the only well worldly beings the silver doe was willing to put her faith in. They did not frighten her but their existence was not what she would consider to be natural. Instead they were entities that tested the boundaries of the livings beliefs.
Clibling back to surface took longer than it had to descend, working her way up to the entrance she stopped at the sound of rain. Sighing she paused at the entrance of she looked out at the pouring rains. It fell in heavy sheets across the lands of Novus, truly coming down hard. Already the rocky pathways around her was gathering puddles. Water had begun to pool a meter away from the entrance of the caves, threatening to trickle down into the body of the cave. Thankfully she was no longer trying to climb up, fighting against the loose ground and what possibly was soon to become a miniature waterfall.
Breathing in the scent of petrichor Arah instantly felt calmer, perhaps even more a little more at home in Novus. Certinally she was not as comfortable as she had been in Helovia, those lands had been her home since she was a young mare. Yet with each passing day these lands became less alien to her and more a potential future home. Settling against the wall Arah looked out over the lands of her new home, waiting out the rain.
The tide crashed upon the shore. Rhythmic and calming, the rolling waves called to her. Ki’irha stood upon the sandy beach, watching the Terminus Sea wave lazily at her beneath the full moon. The small waves lapping past where the water broke upon the shore were tipped in silver light, and she watched with her own stormy gaze the sea which seemed to stretch on forever. The briny breeze coated her with the delicate scent of salt, and as she breathed in the ocean air, she felt a certain sense of relief that only came from those drawn to the sea. Like the ocean’s tide, the midnight woman felt herself called by the moon. Before, she found herself captivated by the mountains; but now, with no snow-capped peaks in sight, she found herself longing for the ocean. She had arrived near here, some short time ago. And more than that, she wondered if this was the same endless blue she had looked upon at home.
Eyes looked up towards the star-strewn heavens, and she traced the galaxies dancing across the inky blue. If there was one thing consistent about her across the worlds she had been in, it was the fact that she felt at home beneath this sky. Her mother had told her that the summer night sky stained her coat on the day she was born; that star fire had burned the sky’s mirror image upon her back, that it had coated her ankles so she would always dance upon moonlight. It was a fun story, as a child, but even as she had grown, she always somehow felt less lonely beneath the constellations.
A chattering, a sweet twee-wee-wee, and her sculpted face turned to look at what her ears had already found. Small sandpipers chased the ebbing tide, their long beaks looking for small morsels tucked beneath the bubbling sand. She watched, a delicate smile painted upon her features, as one of the small birds pried open the smallest shell, pecking away the meat, before heading back into the foam in search for more.
The wolf within her, the bristling creature holding up her guards since she had first arrived here, seemed to recede, and she appeared visibly relaxed. A sigh escaped her, and as she watched the birds, she allowed the ocean’s breeze to wash away her hardened facade, and left her as she was always meant to be-
The midnight woman worked her way slowly through the citadel, accompanied only by the echoes of her solitary footsteps as the sound reverberated off of the stone walls. She had never seen such architecture before; her last two homes had been undeveloped in terms of buildings, so the foreign nature of the tower was unnatural in her eyes. There was nothing wrong with having this sort of thing here, but she was trying to take it in. No formal invitation had been extended to allow her in here. For all she knew, this area was restricted. Yet, nothing had been there to stop her in her exploration of her new home, so here she was, moving easily through the hallways, peering into different rooms, and looking upon the relics that were stored here.
Home didn’t have these. There were primitive paintings upon the prison’s walls and within the caves. They had just begun to illustrate the history of the Aurora Basin when everything had fallen apart. At home they had stories, passed between herds and outcasts alike. There were songs of praise, stories of victory, defeat, magic. Each herd had communicated with the gods at home. Each patron deity had spoken to the chosen ones. They were the elite promoted ones who provided connection between the mortals and the gods. But they didn’t have means to construct buildings or carve churches and monuments that grew from the ground like trees.
Slowly she climbed, legs taking her higher and higher within the tower. She needed to stop calling back there home. That place didn’t exist anymore. She needed to find solace knowing that this place was safe, seemingly untouched by manipulated magic and darkness. Yet, she had no purpose here. Back then, it was her job to protect. It was her duty to fight. And now? She was just some commoner, haunting the court like a ghost, remaining reclusive and distant. It had been so easy to remain hidden away in her old mountains. Here, everything was so much more open. No one had sought her out, no one had formally welcomed or even accepted her here. Was anyone allowed to just wander in? She scowled at the seeming lack of security.
Finally reaching the precipice of the tower, she found herself within a large room adorned with relics, seemingly walking through the history of, well, wherever she was. She looked at a particular piece, depicting a beautiful mare, and there was something ethereal, something careful and respectful with the way she was depicted. As she looked unknowingly upon Vespera, she finally came to rest, her nervous pacing ceasing.
She knew nothing of this place. Its history wasn’t hers, nor was this herd. How could it be, if she remained so isolated and separate?
How was she supposed to know what was worth protecting?
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night
The Night Court's buildings were structures that she had never behold before in all of her time. In Helovia there had scarcely been an erect structure, the small dome in the Ancient Rounda hardly seemed to count when this was it's comparison. She supposed the glass wall of the edge was in someways similarly impressive, though even that had been crude when compared to a building that one could go inside of. Ulrik's sentinels that guarded the entrance to the basin matched the magical nature of this building, though they of course were no match to the size of this creation. There was no moon tonight, her ivory form was friend to to shadows and the darkest coloured horses tonight. The building was covered in vegetation, it snaked its way up the walls and covered some of the window panes where light attempted to shine through and around the leaves. It was beautiful, impressive and intimidating. Stopping outside the door that was the entrance to the he building she took a breath and tried to steady her beating heart.
Since arriving in these lands she'd kept mostly to herself, away from the gazes that might be a threat. Part of her mind also assed this building as a potential threat. Admittedly she'd so far been too afraid to go inside something that her mind didn't quite understand. Of course she gathered the basics about the structure but she could not see how it had been made to stand so tall. Not knowing what made it stand this tall also meant that she did not know what was encouraging it to remain standing. Should she head inside and it begin collapsing, well it would most likely be her death and she was far too friendly with him already. Though he waited for her in the shadows, for a while at least, he was patient.
Something that did make her eager to leave this new kingdom and explore the lands outside it was the idea that her family was out their somewhere. Tilney and Maude, what if they too were lost and alone? Would she ever find them again? Would they perhaps come and live with her in this building? Of course being concerned about the integrity of the building meant she'd been sleeping rough her first few days here. The inhabitants of this kingdom seem more active at night so she made sure to fit into their schedule, that way she felt safer in this brand new world.
Sighing she edged closer to the building pondering if she was brave enough to explore what lurked within.
CHERRY TELLS ME SOME THINGS I DON'T WANNA KNOW and I can't see the light at the end for us anymore--
Virun doesn’t know how to breathe here.
She feels like she should be accustomed to stumbling through the darkness by now, but she has forgotten how it felt to be without Celes – and now she is alone again, forced to make her own way. If it can be said she makes her own way at all; she struggles through the mass of bodies and booths by touch, scrambling towards the edge of the crowd and whispering frantic apologies each time she feels her violet feathers brush the skin of another. The scents and sounds leave her dizzy and nauseated, and she wishes very desperately that she hadn’t come. There has never been a place for Virun at parties, even when accompanied by her friends. (Thinking about them sets the fresh wound of abandonment bleeding anew; she hangs her head.) She isn’t sure when she forgot that the world didn’t belong to someone someone so pitiful and exhausting, someone who… like her, but now…now she doesn’t have a choice but to remember.
She finds her way free of the main grounds of the festivities by some miracle, wings extended awkwardly to help guide her way. (She doesn’t want to be helpless, least of all in this new, lonely world.) Cool night air floods into her lungs, and she drinks it up desperately, relishing the sensation of autumn wind rustling through her feathers and fur. Here, she feels thick grass bob and brush against her legs; small insects, perhaps fireflies, light momentarily on her coat before they take their leave again. The sounds of the festival fade to a dull hum in the distance, and she puts them out of mind. She tries to remember what nighttime looks like. She tries to imagine a dark sky alight with little flickers of glowing silver, but she can’t remember what they sky looks like, or what color silver is. She has to swallow before she chokes. As Virun settles in the grass, her wings come to fold neatly at her sides; she thinks that the feathers feel like a warm embrace, and, for a quiet moment, misses Eydis and Lief desperately.
She’s tried not to think about how alone she is in this strange new place, this Novus - when the thoughts come creeping up, she stuffs them back down, but it’s gotten so hard to breathe. (She sucks in more clean night air; it doesn’t free her of the perpetual blackness, but it feels like something.) It will get better, she tells herself, because it always does, but-
She tells herself to enjoy the small things, the wind and the fireflies, the low hum of distant festivities, the feeling of the world spinning beneath her hooves – time heals everything, but not her eyes so time will fix this too. It’s just a matter of waiting.
She lingers in the darkness, blindfolded eyes pointed towards the stars.
@
open - I just felt the need to space out all of these Seraphina posts with a Virun post. also, music
As her head broke the surface of the water she desperately gasped for breath, her throat burned and she flared her nostrils. An empty mind, thoughtless, blank and confused. Nothing made sense, everything was wrong. Who was she? Where was she? Why had this happened? A cough that sounded like it belonged to the dying filled the air around her with sound, water flooded her open mouth and gushed down her throat. Gargled noises escaped her neck, as the creature choked. This must be a punishment for something. Someone was angry with her. Like a bird trying to escape it's cage, her heart thudded against her bones. The entirety of her body shook, yet she could not tell if it was from the cold or her terror. Sinking again the water rose to her chin, this must be her death then. The final moments of a lost, desperate woman. What a dismal sight it was. Black spots began to form in her vision, water gently rippled around her sinking body. It was a peaceful way to go, once you got past the first stages of panic. Exhausted and weak her heart sank as her body gave in to death's embrace, should she wish it, he would warm her tonight. A name she would claim from his lips, her past she would beg from whomever else was listening. Would it please her to know such things? Had her life meant anything? Or had she simply existed while others around her became great? Was she alone in the end?
'Swim.' The voice was quiet, not her own but utterly familiar as if it came from her own soul. 'I can't.' Arah whispered back, the blackness at the edges of her vision was growing thicker. She was fading, it would be over soon now. Already she could feel the dark shadowy tendrils of death wrapping around her legs and pulling her further into the depths of the water. 'I don't care. Move.' A spark of annoyance stirred in her gut, as she was dying someone had the audacity to give her orders. She's been looking for peace, not company. 'NOW ARAH!' The voice filled her head, but it was the sound of her name that shocked her back to life. Images flooded through her mind, Deimos, Crowley, Roland, Farenjer, Lakota, Mauja, Arwen and Asch. The Ghosts of her past. Tilney. Maude. Rhiannon. Wynter. Her future. For them she could break out of death's grasp. They needed her and in turn they would look after her but if she died her, now with no witnesses to her termination, her family would never know what happened to her. Would they continue on with their lives always looking over their shoulder for her? No. She knew how it felt to have the dead as your companions. She would not do that to them.
Eyes wide despite the water burning her orbs she raised her gaze to the surface and began kicking, forcing her wretched body to move. Each muscle screamed in defiance, begging her to stop. The closer the doe came to the surface the bigger the desire to inhale. She had to hold out, could not let herself swallow anymore water. But it was the natural reaction of her body and under the depths of darkness she inhaled lungfuls of water. Death was chasing after her, grasping, promising her a respite. Her mind pleaded with her to listen to him, allow him to take her away. No. Breaking the surface of the water again, Arah could hardly force enough air into her lungs to flush the water out. Furiously blinking she managed to make out a blurry outline of land, her waterlogged eyes assessed the distance. Maybe five meters, she could swim the five meters to safety surely. Arah could not ignore the protests of her body but if she gave in there would be no coming back. Instead she focused on a single spot, watching as it gradually grew closer.
Eventually, after moving slowly, ever so gods-damned slowly, her hoof brushed the loose bank. It signified her refuge, her rebellion against death that had sought to claim her. They would meet someday, but they already knew each other well, perhaps he would embrace her and greet her like an old friend. He'd taken so many from her but tonight he was not able to complete his set. She'd been saved by the voice of her bonded, the brattish griffin who tonight would not let her give up on life. "Wynter." The doe's voice did not reach her own ears. 'I'll find you.' Then nothing, the feeling of her bonded vanished without a trace. A sob broke from her lips, had she not faced enough in her life? Why did the gods still want to punish her? She had done horrible things but she had paid for those sins dearly time and time again.
Pushing up way up through the shore Arah managed to only make it a few steps from the water before collapsing. The violent shiver encompassed her entire being, her mind, soul and physical body. At least her vision her cleared slightly allowing her to survey her surroundings, what should have brought her comfort did not. The world was unfamiliar, not even the outline of the surrounding terrain were unrecognisable. The fauna was not from the lands that she'd grown to call home. Arah knew without a doubt that she was no longer within the lands of Helovia. A full moon filled the sky with it's pale light, the dark shadows played hide and seek with the trees shivering in the light breeze. The shadows watched her, played with her even, threatening to engulf and hide her away from any salvation.
There was not much she remembered of her moments before arriving here. A flash of blue, lighting violently lighting up the entire sky above her crowned head. Arah vaguely remembered someone shouting about unstable magic...is that what had caused her to turn up here? The doe had so many questions but there was not a soul around to answer them. Coughing up a mouthful of water she wondered if the water she'd inhaled would cause her any permeant damage, with her luck that was the most likely outcome. All the same it would not so to lay here forever, not when she could still feel death's gaze upon her. Firstly she needed to make sure that Maude, Tinley and the rest of her family were safe. If they'd wound up in this land then no doubt they'd be just as confused and frightened, especially her daughter if she'd wound up alone. Trying to raise herself Arah only successfully stumbled a step forward before her legs gave out again. The fight for survival had left her utterly devoid of strength, in truth her numb mind was also still not fully functioning. Without assistance she would not be able to move, not until her strength returned at least.
She did not know when that would happen.
Life had a funny way of bringing about unexpected change. The speckled mare mused on this thought as she observed the sprawling sea of reds and golds before her, the majestic trees dwarfed by the distant peak. Her skin tingled with residual adrenaline, muscles nearly quivering with exhaustion under her own weight. She was distantly aware of the fact that, soon, the sun would be sinking lower in the western sky, heralding the arrival of night. And with night, came - well, there wasn't even a need to say it, was there? Every horse knew all too well what lurked in the shadows after nightfall.
Pausing among a copse of smaller trees, Himawari considered her options, quickly coming to the realization that they were, in fact, extremely limited. After all, her entire life leading up to this point had been nothing but easy. She had never step foot outside her father's territory and now, miles from home, she was faced with the realization that she was truly alone and truly lost. There was no going back, even if she wanted to. She felt small, suddenly, in the wake of this situation, like a little filly separated from her mother for the very first time.
There was nothing she could do but sit and wait. For the first time in weeks, she wished she could be back home. Would I have been better off? she asked herself, If I had just stayed? Would she have been able to survive any longer with her mother, subjected to constant criticisms and moods capricious as the weather? For four years, Himawari had bitten her tongue in an effort to keep quiet, bearing the weight of her mother's baggage, trying to be the perfect daughter. But shit, that was hard - and she could barely live up to her own expectations.
The wind picked up, the brisk breeze caressing her spine. The rattle of dying leaves seemed to echo through the quiet meadow, a once-comforting sound that, now, did nothing but remind her that she was by herself.
((ooc: quick post is bleh, I'm still working out her character a bit. Next ones will be better :3))
Some men craved power, would topple empires and slaughter innocents to achieve it. It was a drug, heady and intoxicating in it's might, and those who chased power and reknown, addicts. They became tyrants when they grasped that power, that strength, and could only be deposed by one who had gained power equal or greater than the predecessor. Power started revolutions, rebellions, crusades. Power corrupted.
Which was why Deimos ran through dark tunnels, heedless of anything but the turning of the ground beneath him in his terror and determination to rid himself of the strength of the godsoul inside him. The soul he had stolen, had taken from another with his dying breath, had devoured unwillingly with hunger like a child to the teat. He fled, because the desire to use that power burned in his breast, a flame that crackled and burned within him, his very veins humming with the magic of the soul. With his power he could usher an age of Dark to the Gods that had forsaken him and his people. With his power-
That power wasn't his.
That sent him further into a pounding panic, his breath harsh in the stone walls unseen, his eyes wild in the blackness as shadow and terror itself mantled about him. In his panic, he did not notice the ebbing of that soul, of the insidious power, of the fading of his mantle of darkness and fear. He did not notice that shortly the very thing he feared and wished to be rid of was gone, leaving him hollow and devoid of that spark of life, only for it to be replaced with something else. A thump in his chest, weak at first, a single beat, then a second, and a third, until the beating in his breast was so rapid the pulses were hard to distinguish from each other. He did not notice his new heart beating, pumping true mortality through his barren veins, did not notice the cave lightening gradually, shade by shade. He noticed none of this in his wonton sprint, not until blinding, brilliant light seared his eyes, and dread and sorrow slammed through him. He had gone in a circle, he was back to the land of the Gods, to their accursed and beautiful city. Despair filled him as he stumbled out of the cave tunnel, collapsing by the entrance. He had no further will to venture forth, the despair settled itself around him.
Deimos waited for the madness to come.
For several long, agonizing seconds he waited, draped in that despair, until something... most strange caught his attention. A movement in his chest, a painful fluttering that the despair was tied to, a rapid beat as he lay panting on the rocky ground. His ears pricked forward, his head tilting so he could look at his chest, confusion slowly replacing the despair. Was something the matter with the soul? Had he damaged it somehow? But no, this lacked power, lacked the burning liquid heat of a soul. It was then he noticed the cloak of shadow and terror was gone from his shoulders, his back barren of it's rippling fabric. For a moment, he stared in numb shock, his mind not processing before he tried to stoke the soul within him and flare his magic.
Nothing happened. There was no miasma of fear, no billowing shadow erupting from his being to devour the ground and instill primal terror in whatever lay in its path. There was nothing. Did that mean the soul was gone? Had he somehow gotten rid of it in his return to the land of the Gods? Frowning, Deimos turned his gaze upwards... and was knocked breathless by the sight before him. The sun hung heavy and low on the horizon, flinging up an array of colors on a barren, mountainous hillside. It was beautiful, heart-wrenchingly so, that it stole the very air from his lungs in a single, awe-filled gasp. The sun had always been incandescent before in the land of the gods, but it had always hung high in the sky, untouchable and impossible to gaze upon. Deimos watched the sunset in wonder, his fear of the loss of the soul gone.
Waiting for the rest of me to die
Open for any Day courties to come bring Deimos home ;D Expect some weirdness from his end lele
Posted by: Pan - 10-28-2017, 02:07 AM - Forum: Archives
- Replies (2)
Pan made his way through the now familiar swamp, wading through the murky water without fear where the ground became soft and spongy. Fishes and god-knows-what-else darted as his feet treaded through the dark marsh, brushing against him and darting away once more – but it didn’t bother him. Instead, Pan felt like he was some kind of explorer, delving deep into the jungle in search of something interesting. Given his nature, it was likely that he was just wandering and collecting, as Pan was apt to do… but today he moved with a bit more purpose than usual. He had come to take Yana to the party, knowing that the healer would rarely leave the swamp that held her.
He saw her hut in the distance, a curl of smoke escaping from the roof, and a smile crossed the boy’s face. While the queen of the swamp was a bit of a prickly creature, he’d decided some time ago that she was a friend of his. So, he did not hesitate to approach the remote structure, shaking the mud and moss away from his body and doing his best to wipe the dirty murk from the swamp from his pale legs before intruding on her space.
Yana? He called from just outside her house, beckoning the starry healer to come out to his voice, grinning from ear to ear as he saw the flash of her dark coat appearing. We’re having a fall festival, in Delumine. I brought you this. He fished out a slightly mashed pumpkin pastry, handing it to her with a sheepish look. Sorry about that, guess they don’t travel so well… but there’s more where that came from. Do you want to come? I can show you where to go!
![[Image: table_onearah_by_frostie_spirits-dbs0bn2.png]](https://orig00.deviantart.net/31f5/f/2017/301/f/d/table_onearah_by_frostie_spirits-dbs0bn2.png)
