Her hooves sunk in the sand – wet and clumping and dull, unlike the brilliant, soft red-gold of Solterra. Seraphina stood at the edge of the ocean, just far enough for the surf to lap amicably at her hooves. When she had traveled Novus at Viceroy’s side as a young girl, she had wondered what laid beyond Novus’s shores; Viceroy came from across the sea, she knew, but he had arrived in Novus as a youth, “drenched and bedraggled, wings completely broken,” if stories were to be believed. He’d never been willing to talk about his homeland, and she’d never been willing to press. She had been a curious child, and fearless at first, though he’d quickly corrected those parts of her – Seraphina had wondered about her mentor, vicious and abrasive as he was, and how he’d come to be, but she had always been scared to ask.
Sometimes she wondered if it was the idea of an answer that scared her most of all.
Washed in the pale grey-green foam and chilled gently by the salt-soaked wind, she could practically imagine him hovering over her shoulder, fiery halo exuding a threatening warmth across the space of her back. “Is this the first time you’ve ever seen the sea?” He’d asked, that familiar, smug not-quite-smile plastered across his lips as though it were etched into marble. Viceroy was always smiling with his lips, but she’d soon learned that smile meant absolutely nothing and never carried to his eyes anyways – that no display was guaranteed to be genuine. The ocean had become the border of everything for Seraphina. Those great, tumultuous waves that thrashed and bobbed on the edge of the horizon were the end of the world, and she would never pass them. (And sometimes, just sometimes, she had wanted to.)
She shook her head, reminding herself that she hadn’t come here to reminisce on Viceroy. Seraphina could see a froth of grey on the horizon, the ominous, creeping expanses of stormclouds that hung like a mantle on the edge of the sky – a hint of a threat. It wouldn’t take long for the storm to reach where she stood on the beach, pastern-deep in foaming, milkgreen sea. It would be best to be on the cliffs before then, just in case the storm came with lightning, so, shaking off her reminiscing like a snake shedding its skin, she turned on heel and retreated in the direction she came; she hadn’t taken more than four steps, however, before she found her gaze distracted by something pale and pearly in the sand. Seraphina took a short detour to pull it from its half-buried state, jaws clamping loosely around a rather oddly-shaped shell that gleamed with hints of the rainbow when the – faint – light hit it correctly. She wasn’t sure of what to do with it, but she carried it between her teeth nonetheless as she scaled the cliffside from which she’d entered the beach in the first place, wandering precariously up the narrow, rocky passage that led to the top of the rocky cliffs, coated in a thin, fine layer of dry, tall grasses that smacked up against her legs as the wind began to whip.
(A flicker of memory, cutting through the fragments of her childhood unprompted - “The wind is making your flames dance,” She’d said, eyeing them cheerfully. Viceroy had fixed her with a tired stare, bloodshot eyes narrowed with exasperation. “Dance?” He’d questioned, tone flat as ever. It wasn’t really a question. “Like butterflies,” She’d explained helpfully, tilting her head to stare at his flickering halo of flames. They were beautiful. “Like butterflies caught in a storm.”)
She deposited the shell at the ground near her hooves just as the rain began, wind and water freeing her mane of its tight braids and setting it loose to dribble down her neck – there was something refreshing about the rain, something freeing in its influence. Even her collar seemed to grow slicker with her coat, a little easier to breathe in. Wind and rain pelted her, but she did not move from her solitary, stone-like position, eyes cast on the very edge of the horizon, where great waves of dark blue rose and fell rhythmically with each weighty gust.
@whoever || this was initially going to be a reply/start to a relic thread, but...anyways I had it halfway done so I figured I should toss it up /shrugs dramatically/ have some pointless rambling and more little Viceroy snippets I guess
There was something new, something sharp in the air. It was in the way the wind whispered through the trees, whipping around corners and seeming to howl that something was coming. Something mysterious. Something dangerous. And Pan was in for the chase.
The green colt took one last longing look at the sea, whispering his goodbyes to the sand crabs and sea lions, turning toward the north, and climbing toward the source of the newness. Far ahead, he saw the maze. It looked, from a distance, like little more than a patch of green on the horizon. But the closer he got, the larger the hedges seemed to stretch, higher and higher into the sky. They grew tall as the trees, winding and twisting in a labyrinth further than he could see… but Pan was drawn toward it like a moth to the flame. Despite the dangers he figured it held, a sense of curiosity spurred him forward, and a heat of adventure coiled in his belly.
The maze was fringed with an otherworldly mist – perhaps a sign to most creatures, but for the scaled colt, it only drew to his appeal. Stepping past the thin veil of white, the wind seemed to scream at him “go back, go back”… but he pressed onward. And as he passed through the first ring of maze, the trees seemed to shift to lock him in, uncovering another ring, and another of puzzles. This was the ultimate game, and Pan stopped to strategize, his smile widening with determination as he carefully picked the left-most trail to follow.
Fireflies blinked ahead, but the sky seemed go grow dark with clouds, until only a sliver of moonlight seemed to illuminate the bramble-fed path. But still, Pan moved forward, humming as he walked to stave away the quiet. Gone were the birds, the others, and the din of day. Now, there was only night and a singular purpose. To find what the maze was hiding. Nevermind that the quest wasn’t one for him… Pan still found himself drawn to solve the unsolveable puzzle. So he marched onward, step by step, breath by breath.
Only when the leaves to his right began to shiver with motion did he stop, tensing for the briefest of moments as he turned to stare, finally asking the darkness ”Who’s there?!”
Charlemagne was not normally the type to enter mazes alone.
That did not mean he didn’t want to be that type; he did, very badly, but opportunity had so far failed him and if he was being honest, courage was just as likely to do so. But then he’d felt the tug - surely the one that Camdis Lohir had been speaking of - and there was nothing to do but follow it, for how could he not be brave, being here? Hadn’t he run away to become somebody else, someone bold and wise?
If he was honest with himself, Florentine’s words played a part, too, burning like a coal in his heart. So it was that he stood before the entrance to the maze, head low and cautious as a deer, green eyes tracing the contours of the new-grown hedges with equal measures wariness and curiosity. There were no monsters within, surely; from what he’d heard, there was a somebody called a Shaman, and oh! Charlemagne was eager enough for answers.
Perhaps he waited longer than he should have, hoping to see Camdis’s comforting presence, or anybody else who might also be searching. But the shadows of the maze seemed to beckon, and the wind rustled the branches, and Charlemagne got the feeling that he should wait no longer.
A cool breeze brushed past him, twining fingers through his flaxen mane, carrying the thickly verdant scent of the hedge and the lighter, more floral smells of spring. Drawing a deep breath of it, the unicorn tossed his head, the golden horn cutting through the bright day, and stepped into the first yawning hallway of the maze.
Their world was coming together, and little did she know about it. She didn't know about the sovereigns rising to claim their title, didn't know that members of the other courts were piling in and filling all the empty spaces that used to be full. She didn't know that she should have been trying to rally her own court, for there were those that still lurked in the shadows of the great Dusk Court tower. Her time had been spent wondering: "when?" When would she see those of her past that pulled her into their arms, the ones she so desperately wanted to protect? When would any step forward and pronounce their loyalty to Vespera and her Court, bringing life back into the walls and openness of Terrastella?
She was ready to face the other courts as a one man army, and little did she know there were already others of Dusk who were prepared to do the same thing.
The day was well on it's way to showing the sun through the sky, hours before dusk still, and light grey rain clouds dotted the blueness. A sun shower had already dumped its contents into the lands around them, and another threatened to do the same as Rannveig paced the spaces before the court tower. There would be no celebrations, no raucous conversations about a sovereign being chosen for the Dusk Court; she was unaware that such festivities should have been warranted, for all she simply did was try to bring the court back together. The fact that she was seen as the 'sovereign' at all was almost missed amid her worrying and restlessness. She sat at the head, surely, but the head of what?
A call to arms passed through her mouth and into the lands beneath Vespera's watch, one not too dissimilar from the one she made some suns ago. But where that was was questioning, this was a demand not to be ignored for she was ready to pull the strings of her court together and create something beautiful. She didn't want to wait--didn't want to worry--and so that day would be the change they all needed to rebuild their system.
And through the harshness of the call she sent to gather those around, she was a soft creature whose words only held a plea. "If the Dusk Court is the home you seek, let us work on fixing it together. We are no weak kind--we are able as the warriors, wise as the sages. Let us prove that we, too, can be a court to reckon with." Her broken words faded out around her as she stood before the Court's entrance in preparation to meet all those that staked a claim as she had.
And all our problems make us powerless
closed for all dusk court members!! this is a mandatory meeting, and the intent is that rann can 1. meet the members of the court, new and old, and 2. your characters can tell her of their interested role in the system. this has a one week deadline and then the ball starts rollin! <33
for all dusk court rules/positions, look here: dusk court information
for non dusk court characters looking for something to crash, try this thread: come rising up
The winged gypsy could not deny that she felt Calligo's presence as she trekked up the steep stone steps to the temple. Hues of pink and orange and yellow melted into deep purple clouds across the horizon like watercolor paints. Beautiful and stunning and unbelievable. The mountain was massive in size; she felt so so small as she stood staring down at the world below her. Surely, this was what the gods felt like. To be blessed to watch the makings of the realm from such heights.. she could only dream.
From a young age, Aislinn was always on the move. A nomad from birth, a wanderer in her blood, a drifter at heart. Funny, that she could not stand still in one place for long. Denocte had been her motherland for her entire life. Once a year her tribe would make the great pass through the mountains of Night. In all of her wanderings, she had only made the pilgrimage to the temple once before. She was just under a full year of seasons. Heavy lids shut, the memory sucking her in --
* * *
"Ma'ma, why doesn't Mother come with us?" she asked, chilled air blowing through her nostrils.
The nearly-white winged mare craned her neck around to smile down upon her daughter. Long feathered appendages stretched outwards, allowing the little yearling to duck beneath them to stand beside her. Aislinn nuzzled her dam. "Is it because she is afraid of heights?" she inquired.
Luna of the Stars sighed, shaking her head softly. "No, my little dreamer. Your mother, she is the Mother of us all," she started, voice light and sweet. They continued higher up the ancient stone steps, rocks tumbling over the edge at Aislinn's unsure hoofbeats.
"Freya is many things, but afraid of heights she is not. As you know, she is our true Mother, our leader. Blessed by the demi-goddess herself," she continued, "she comes alone to speak to Her. It's tradition that way.. for the tribe's Three Face's to journey on their own, once a year."
Aislinn youngling took in a slow, deep breath of winter air, deeply mulling over her mother's words. "Will I do the same as Freya someday?" she asked, her mother's true name strange on her lips.
The great dappled-white mare stopped, her wings sheltering Aislinn as snow began to fall. Luna smiled, regarding her daughter softly, her grin not quite reaching her silvery eyes. "Yes, my dear. One day you will become one of our great Faces, one of our protectors. Only then, shall you be able to seek the Night goddess yourself."
* * *
Aislinn blinked away the memory, a single fat tear falling free down her cheek. Her eyelids fluttered. The sun had dropped closer to the earth so quickly in mere moments. How long had she been standing there, lost in a half-remembered dream? Stars had begun to glimmer softly, the sun at last falling asleep beneath the line of the horizon. The moon was a silver ornament, glowing faintly. Her entire body shuddered, ivory locks shaking free of their braids.
"You were right Ma'ma," Aislinn whispered to the heavens. Her voice was smooth, a lullaby. Sucking a sharp breath of air into her lungs, she was moving once more. A stairway to the stars, a gateway to the gods. Inky blue and violet rolled across the sky, clear and perfect in it's darkness. She was almost there, almost to the citadel. Her heart thudded madly in her chest. Oh Calligo, are you listening?
Thrum. Thrum. Thump. Her strong, lithe frame shuddered, feeling like and heavy all at once. Butterflies fluttered wildly in her stomach. Aislinn's hooves clicked on the stones as she ascended the peak. Thrum. Thrum. Thump. Almost there. She could see the end of the trail now. Ivy and moss softening her footfalls. And suddenly she was there, the temple pillars reaching high above for several meters, joining together to create a stunning aclove. The air vibrated wonderfully. She was here.. finally here. Her blood boiled, her heart drumming against her ribs.
A relieved sigh shuddered out of her, bringing the winged gypsy down to her knees. "I am here, goddess of Night," she pledged. I am just a dreamer wishing for your guidance. Just a little dreamer.
OOC: This is open to anyone <3 Thread name inspired by the quote: "To the stars that listen, and the dreams that are answered," from Sarah J. Maas' A Court of Mist and Fury! I'm sorry for the stupid long post xD
His curiosity and his concern had piqued when the relic was announced as found - who had found it, why had they been searching for it? What were they now going to use it for? His brow had furrowed as he was told that it was an old Shaman that had discovered the relic - and that the maze that he now stood before was something of his creation. The maze was thick and thorny, it's depths unknown and dark in the early morning light. Reichenbach had camped on the beach the night before, knowing that it was closer than his home city and relishing the moment of silence as he had lain by his small, hot fire. The ocean had been relatively calm, though he had still been lulled to sleep by the sound of it's rolling waves. Only hours ago he had awoken with the sun, shaken the sand from his mahogany skin and set off at a purposeful trot toward the freshly sprouted maze.
Standing before it now felt ominous and unnatural, it's depths eerily quiet. Did the Shaman reside in it's centre? Reich was loathe to enter any sort of maze, feeling a sort of claustrophobia as he stared in silence, silver eyes worried. To enter the maze might mean risking his own life - nobody knew what the relic was or what power it had garnered over the years, it might be all powerful. The trail of his thoughts paused as he gazed at the mystery before him - for if the relic had the power to spring such vast life from nothing, what else could it do? A contemplative hum slipped from him, the sun slowly rising as he took the first step forward - into the maze he went.
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
Her wings stay tucked against her body as she moved forward toward the big structure of the Day Court. She would enter by foot, giving the new sovereign a chance to greet her on the ground rather than in the air. Yes, she met new faces when she first entered through the Mors Desert. But there is one visage that she particularly wants to see. The new sovereign that claims rule over this land will be a valuable relationship for her. After all, this is the land of the Sun God, Solis. She is his prophet, and the sovereign rules the land. Long strides carry her quickly, head held high as her long tail drags in the sand behind her. Finally her hooves reach the edge of the Court itself, and she steps up toward the great atrium, the sun shining down on her dark back. She looks around, but it seems the Court is rather empty at the moment. Where are they all? Isn't this land inhabited? She huffed, immediately thinking poorly of every other member of Solterra. "Would you let a stranger enter so far to your capital?" She calls out, but barely raises her voice. She knows that someone would come shortly.
In the meantime she walks toward the center of the Court and stopped, spreading her wings to let them soak in the sun, then tucked them in against her sides again. Were she to build a shrine - and likely she would - she might have it here, in the capital of Solterra. It would be the center of activity and therefore the best place to bring new worshippers into the fold (whether they liked it or not). But perhaps the Oasis would be better. It is generally more comfortable, with plenty of foliage and fresh water to keep visitors happy and optimistic. If those of the faith's community were kept happy they would be more likely to stay loyal. She ponders the decision, and decides she may ask the opinion of the sovereign - for he should be kept happy as well.
At this point, Bexley is becoming hauntingly aware of the fact that she needs to get her shit together. Exploring is all good and well, fun, even, but she’s spent too much of her precious time wandering without an aim, and that has never been in her plans. She hasn’t had too much time for people, what with that incessant traveling and her neurotic tendency to move on too fast, as well as the relative novelty of her presence in Novus - but she’s been everywhere she needs to go, and the next step in this plan, the one Bexley has been putting together in her head for years, like an extraneously complicated puzzle, is to find her people. Girls, boys, whatever. Beggars can’t be choosers, and Bexley in general doesn’t care about the gender of her toys.
But she needs them - followers. A posse, a cult, anything. How is she going to get famous if people don’t know about her? Something has to be done. That’s why she’s here, standing perfectly still in the middle of the plains, those ocean-blue eyes darting intently around the empty space. Golden grass brushes up her legs and a slow, lazy wind ruffles those thick white curls. She’s heard things about this place, that it’s a gathering place of sorts, which is exactly what she’s looking for. Bex inhales deeply. Everything here is clean and natural and beautiful, submerged in sugary crystals of sunlight. The lushness of her possibilities here is overwhelming. And she loves it.
JUST LIKE FIRE, BURNING OUT THE WAY
IF I CAN LIGHT THE WORLD UP FOR
JUST ONE DAY WATCH THIS MADNESS
COLORFUL CHARADE NO ONE CAN
BE JUST LIKE ME ANYWAY
Ebony and gilded tresses flow, swirling around her form as the dawn casts its beautiful pastels upon her, the sun bathing her in its budding warmth. She was traveling above the land known as Ruris, looking for more poor uninformed creatures that had not yet enjoyed the glory of Solis. She hesitated in her flight when she saw below what appeared to be a giant maze. It's great expanse was impressive and she wondered how quickly the populace of Novus would get lost in it. She dove, intending to land somewhere inside the maze, but to her astonishment that was not such an easy feat. The gleaming pegasus hit like a wall of bricks and had to pull up with immense effort, feeling her body ache with the impact. Some invisible force protected the maze, keeping her from entering it from anywhere, she guesses, except the very beginning. Her golden orbs blaze with indignant fury, but she decides that perhaps this is not the hill to die on....
Quietly she drifts down toward what appears to be the entrance to the maze. Her daggers land on the soft turf and she examines the hedges with a critical eye. What is the purpose of this? She couldn't divine any, but she couldn't help her curiosity either. The ground appeared trampled, as if several others have taken this path before her. Her lobes swivel as she tries to listen for anyone else, but if they were here before, they are gone now. Nares expand to take in the smells around her, and finally she decides that most have gone one path.. to the left. She stops and stares in that direction, noticing that the trampled effect continues on the ground. Turning her crown to the right the path looks almost untouched - only a slight few have gone this direction, if that many. Fickleness ruling her mind then, she chooses to turn right, following the hedge wall the way that was less traveled. Whatever the purpose of this maze, I shall discover it! Looking above, she wonders if it is easier to get out than it is to get in. How many will fall prey to the labyrinth? Will she? No - Solis will save her, should any harm befall her.
She was many things, the silver girl. She was someone’s unwanted daughter, someone’s unprofessed love, someone’s soft spoken friend. She was tall, shy, beautiful. Most of all, she was scared. She found yet another strange place – awakened with all her previous memories, but no knowledge of how she came to be in this place. She blinked several times, the sunlight shining into her button eyes. She rose from the dewy earth and shook her silver coat, glittering drops of water spraying in all directions. She stood, her head erect, ears twitching, body twitching, tail twitching, knowing every sound was death, having found her again. She had found safety and security with him, knowing that he would never let anything bad happen to her…but what could she do when something bad happened to her? The guilt she carried from his death was immense, weighing on her like a lead saddle she could not buck off, no matter how hard she tried, or how fast she ran. The filly’s sides were heaving now, memories and fear swirling around her; like a torrent of biting rain or blasting wind, despite the calmness of the weather. Nearby, she heard something moving through the underbrush, her body whipping to face it. Her eyes were wide (as wide as button eyes can go), her body tense and ready to flee for her life, until a rabbit appeared from the thicket, just as surprised as she was. They stared at each other for a time, the rabbit’s tiny pink nose twitching until he deemed the strange horse “not a threat,” and continued eating his fill. The filly watched him as he graze-hopped away and then felt silly for being afraid of a rabbit. She had never heard of a rabbit eating a horse. But then again, this was a new place. What if the rabbits did eat horses, and she had found one who had already eaten? What if there was a corpse just inside the copse of trees? What if he had wanted to eat her, too, but was repulsed by her marred skin and button eyes? Would she never be normal? Would she always be stared at? Jeered at? Ignored? A freak? Tears now welled up in her eyes. She was tired. So tired. Her body wanted to collapse beneath her from its constant dump of adrenaline; and her mind wanted to shut down so it stopped thinking about him. She couldn’t even bear to think his name right now. The pain was still fresh, despite the time that had passed. The wound was too deep. They were supposed to be together forever; but look! Just look! She was here, and he was gone; a body long forgotten by the others in a home everyone fled. More sounds caught her attention as the world seemed to slowly wake up. Birds chirruped nearby, and her heart leapt, hoping to catch the sounds of Bartholomew or Orchid – the macaws that had been her friends in the last home. She didn’t hear them. Nor did she see Pandora – the red fox that usually accompanied her. Not for the first time, the girl began to fret and worry about where the fox had gone. She had been a gift to keep her safe and secure before she had met any friends. The little fox had been her best friend, her confidante for nearly her whole life; and not for the first time – she was gone. The filly remained rooted to the spot, her head twisting this way and that, button eyes straining to see the fox. She had to be coming out of the trees sometime…right? ”Speech”
![[Image: s03P8Yq.png]](http://i.imgur.com/s03P8Yq.png)
