This post is set deep in the Viride Forest and is set in the PAST.
The stallion was wandering, exploring. It was a quiet day, one of peace and tranquility. Viride forest was a balm for the medic, a sanctuary for that day. Birds were singing in the trees, and the day was perfect. The sun was warm and the forest was painted with shadows and light. The entire experience was nearly surreal to the stallion, a moment seemingly frozen in time for him alone.
There was a pull to explore further, to head deeper within the thick trees. Something almost seemed to be calling the stallion, a mysterious siren song that beckoned. What he didn’t know was that there was a surprise deep in the forest, something that none had seen before. A pull of magic from the very earth that was trying to gift the medic with something special.
Deep within the forest, the stallion found the secret. Unexpected, unknown ruins met his gaze. They had never been seen before, nor would they be found again. Such is the magic of the ancient forest. Stone walls rose from the soil, creating a maze for the being, a puzzle for him to figure out. Twists and turns designed to get him lost and yet lead him to the place where his prize waited.
In the center of the maze of ruins, a single chest waited. It was made of richly colored wood and gleaming gold metal. Around it, dust and debris from untold time hidden in the forest obscured the vision of the chest. This was something special, something for the stallion alone. Within, a gift of gold, ruby, and green was waiting for his eyes. Was waiting for the stallion’s warm flesh. This was his prize, should the stallion be wise and patient enough to find it.
@Lovis has stumbled across some strange ruins deep within the forest. They are unexplored, and ancient, and seem misplaced within the towering trees. They call to him with a voice unheard, to solve the puzzle they hold. Will he answer them?
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So tell me your secrets ; and join me in pieces TO FALL AND REWRITE THE BITTER END
Aeon found himself once more wandering in the Susurro fields. His mind ran through the memories he had tucked away of this place. The sooty and messy landing of his arrival that left him burnt and broken for a time. His meeting with the hybrid mare who taught him about looking where he was running, and that some creatures were sustained off flesh not plants. What other adventures would these lands hold in the future? His heart pounded with excitement at the thought of further learning and adventure.
The day was warm and the sunshine stroked his now healed hide. He ruffled his feathers and stretched his wingspan; feeling the warmth spreading through his feathertips. He kept them outstretched and flapped them at his side. A few loose feathers fell from their place and twirled to the ground. It reminded him of how he had fallen upside down infront of Bucky. How Bucky and Liam had taken him in and allowed him to heal. How the medic mare Caelum had treated his injuries. Feelings of guilt fleeted through him that he had not yet been back to thank her, and visit her since. It would feel appropriate to take a gift or some kind of plant with him. His knowledge on such things was woefully in short supply.
He had heard that some time ago several children had been born to the dusk court. The idea of their court flourishing filled him with a different kind of warmth. One of hope and serenity. He had found a kind of peace. But it didn’t fill the inner turmoil within him that pushed him to improve and to drive himself to be a better stallion. He hadn’t known peace in his life, he didn’t entirely trust it. He felt like it was a fragile existence, simply waiting for the correct moment to shatter into pieces and push them all into turmoil.
He found himself once more thinking of Vespera and her place in all this. He had also unfortunately not been productive on that venture either. He still felt like there were mysterious things left to be solved. He felt like it would be so much simpler, if Vespera could simply tell him what she desired of him? If anything. It was clear however; that he had at least a few tasks ahead of him to guide his choices.
Solterra has idled , but its people are few and in between , and what is he to them ? Nothing but a bullheaded man that had wrenched away the Sovereignty and spit in Solis' face . His bumbling attempts at trying to get Court relations on the mend had been nothing , and once again , he finds himself staring out from the Court's edges , at the Mors , wondering if stepping down would be the right thing . What could he do to refute any challenge if one came ? Nothing . He would simply sit on his ass and twiddle his hooves , as if it could do things .
The coliseum at least is repaired to a former glory . One tiny step in what had been a slew of things to fix and build his proud people up to . But there are so few of them , and he is ... so tired . Very tired .
Blue eyes slip closed a moment , and he feels the preening of sharp teeth into the short hairs of his mane . Enyo doesn't talk often , but her preening him shows a level of affection between the two .
" I think it's time . " A murmur , low and hardly there . Time to bring about the announcement , and to forfeit the reins of his Court . Perhaps he could drift , like much of his people had turned to doing . " Tempus forgive me . " A gift he had looked in the face , thrown back at the deity carelessly . It's time to depart , he thinks . Time to shed these heavy bonds , because he was never built for it . Never meant to take them on . His past had told him that much , and now he stands and shakes himself slowly , turning on his hooves to make his way down into the heart of the Court . He has to tell them , has to let them know .
Spring has always been what starts new life into the world; the catalyst that brings fresh babes out into either a warm or cold world. In Elain she feels a fierce certainty that this life, the innocent new soul that she has kept safe inside her, will be in a warm world. As long as both Elain and Reliquary are around a safe world will exist, the albino knows it. She's done her absolute best to stay safe, she's been painfully cautious with her steps for fear of tripping or hitting something, and she's been careful to not let her anxiety get the best of her. In absolute truth in the back of her mind she's scared, what if she loses them because she can't see them? What if she hurts them with her scales, horns, and even worse her magic?
She doesn't dwell on these thoughts for long, pushing them away with the knowledge that Reliquary is with her. Instead she focuses on her steps, careful not to trip on the grassy ground with help from Cailerian and Eomer. The pregnant kirin is thankful for her dragon companion flying above her to offer some protection from the sun, helping to ward off the sunburns she is so terribly prone to in the summers; and even in sunny winters due to the reflection of the snow. Though Elain is grateful that they're less common in the cold months she is also generally uneasy in the summers simply due to the pain the sun can inflict on her. If memory serves her correctly it was summer when she discovered her powers as a foal when she was trying to find shade and instead made her own, though she later learned that she had rotted some of the surrounding wildlife around her at the time. Yes, that's when she learned she had indeed not received Lorcan's powers but Amrod's instead and that Elain was death put into a painfully soft soul. This fact is part of what has held her back in life, part of what has influenced never ending bouts of self-loathing. When paired with the knowledge that she had always been slowing her brother down for more than half their lives she can't help but feel that something inside of her was simply made wrong. A delicate woman who holds destruction in the gentlest of hands while her clement heart feels uneasy with knowledge that she will always slow others down. That is what she is.
A soft sigh escapes her, she feels tired from both the cooling breeze and the peacefulness that comes with a sunset. At least that's what Elain is guessing the time is, she can feel that the air has cooled slightly and that the sun is lower than it had been. Is it getting dark? An ear twitches with the thought that she sends to Eomer who lands softly to walk next to her, the lantern on his tail creaking. The sun is starting to go down, my lantern doesn't seem to be very bright yet so I'd give it another hour before the stars come out. Should we turn around? The question makes Elain hum in thought before she shakes her head in answer. No, but I think we should stop here. With those thoughts she gently lowers herself to the ground, vanishing into the grasses while both Eomer and Cailerian put themselves on both sides of her. Each of them resting a head on her as well with the dragons large head on her shoulder and the large canines head resting on her hip. Elain closes her eyes softly and hums in thought while the trio are curled up together. "It would be nice if Reliquary was here to feel how peaceful it is right now wouldn't it?"
"Speech" Thoughts
Eomer
Tags » @Reliquary Voice »Lily Collins OOC » Yay liquid time because ong we need a cute pregnant ellie and reliq thread -cry- <3
It's been a long time since I stepped foot in Delumine. At least to me, it feels like a long time. I feel older though definitely not wiser. The first time seems so long ago now in the forest not far from here. What was that place called again? Viride Forest, I think. I could be wrong. After all, I had barely just arrived here in a tumbling cloud of black and teal smoke then I had left again. Well not really left just, took time to wander. At least in my wandering, I had been reunited with my companion Arwen. I glance down at my right side with a smile. The blue merle-colored hellhound looked up at me. Is this home now? She asked through our bond. "I think it's going to be... I hope at least." She nodded in understanding. Everything was so different, especially since we have no family. I'm not the son of Aaron here. I'm not known to really anyone if I'm honest. But this could be our fresh start. I can be out from under my father's shadow that I had wanted to be free of for so long...
My hooves click on the stone beneath me. This was my first visit to what I have heard is the capital of the land I hope to call home. I really hope they will allow me to stay. I want, no need to be of use to someone. It's my way of dealing with everything Kaos had stolen away from me. The start of my own family, my younger sister, my father and mother.. I shake my head to clear it. I can not linger on the past. I have to help those here in the present. Not that I even know where to begin.
I'm tugging at my hair
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm tryna keep my cool
I know it shows
Small hooves hover above the ground, wings cutting through the brisk morning air.
Not that any part of this season was unpleasant to the Summer Fae. In fact, it left her with more energy than was normal. Her heart was lighter, her magic felt stronger - she felt . . . almost normal. Or as normal as an individual who was so familiar with loss and heartbreak could be. That was the blessing of being a Summer Fae; and your particular season coming into full force: it drowned out the heartache, and dulled the pain. It made the day seem warmer, made her heart feel a little more whole, a little more healed, a little less crumbled.
But there was also a strange energy about the air.
It hummed around her, and seemed to pulsate in time with the warmth of her necklace, the necklace that held Tiana's soul tucked gently inside. A gift from the one man who still held her heart in his hooves, even after he had returned to the depths of hell upon his death. The hardest loss she had ever had to accept; when Tremaine had died trying to protect her. Much luck it had done - much luck they had had together. It had been perfect, too perfect when they had been together . . . only for it to crumble and fall apart so quickly that one, terrible night.
She slows her path above the sands, gaze turning to the sea.
It's oddly peaceful, the morning sun reflecting off the white caps, making the crests seem to sparkle. Dust trails from those lightly fluttering butterfly wings, before the fae-horse lowers herself to the ground. Delicate hooves gently touch down, carrying her into a trot across the sand, ignoring the bounty of wild flowers that immediately pop up as the fae walks, eagerly kissing her hocks in greeting. She finds it easier to keep her peace when she ignores such small talents, talents that remind her that the past was catching up with her; that her birth right refused to let her go.
Running away from Summer was never successful.
Especially when you're meant to rule it in your home world. But the runaway queen was doing her best to run away from it all. She ignored the talents that lay suffering beneath the surface of her skin. The first time she'd seen herself using her mother's gift; of walking with a trail of those eager blossoms; she'd wept. And even now, on some days, she could feel the subtle hum of summer beneath her skin, threatening to explode outward in the official acceptance of that particular gift. She was running as far away from her father's magic as possible. She would accept the natural summer; the natural heat against her skin. She wasn't ready to utilize the very season and her own branch of magic.
That was her father's gift. Not hers.
The necklace at her neck suddenly flared hot, almost burning the skin, and the fae hissed as she flung her head back, trying to dislodge where the metal and gem rested against her chest, "Tiana, careful that hur-" Her words falter as the necklace continues to grow brighter, a vibrant red against the dusky hues of her pelt, "Tiana? What's wrong?" When the glow grew bright enough, the fae had no choice but to shut her eyes, head tilted away from the immense light; before suddenly, like a snap of pressure, it was gone.
Her eyes wearily blinked open, only to fall short in shock.
The red glow was now directly infront of her, hovering like a ball, the necklace around her neck now simply a red stone. Her muzzle dropped open as she eyed the odd red ball of energy, "T-Tiana?" She questions softly, before tilting her to one side. The response was dim, far away - but growing stronger in her head with each syllable, Hello Caelum The voice was soft, smooth like chocolate; but warm. While it was a few octaves higher than what Tremaine had always spoken with, the accent was familiar enough that Caelum almost hit her knees. The similarities in speech of the two siblings shook her to the core.
A flood of warmth and understanding seemed to fill her mind.
The ball of light moved, swirling around her gently, I know it is a shock, but breathe for me please. I am supposed to take care of you; after all . . . It's what Trey wanted. His name caused the fae to wince, to which she felt the disapproval from the spirit, You know as well as I do that he's not the sort who would want you walking around eggshells on his memory. What happened to the wayward Princess who was ready to throw down with the your team of advisors and the council over your chosen being a demon-born? The spirit questioned gently.
The fae didn't respond.
Instead, her knees bent, her body slowly falling into the sand, cushioned by the flowers and soft beach grasses that had grown around her hooves, as she stared up at the ball of energy, the spirit; the soul that had come back. Tiana's soul. Trey's sister . . . . So close to her Trey . . . and yet he remained forever lost. "Why are you here, Tiana?" She finally manages to ask the ball of light. It seems to hoover softly before sinking down next to her, resting against her side with a startling amount of warmth, and buzzing energy, Because you needed more support than I could offer you from within the necklace . . . You need someone by your side . . . and I won't fail my brother's chosen. The tears were pinpricks against her eyes, threatening to fall, but held back. Even now, years after his death - she couldn't run far from his memory; and he still seemed to be looking out for her.
I'm sorry I cannot be him. The spirit whispers softly with in her mind.
The forest had been her home these past two and a half years. Wren had last left here and not returned and Kindred was determined to find some sign of her tracks, a symbol of her presence. She would not stop until she had located her other half.
They had not been separated like this before - not for this long! Such distance had started to tear at Kindred’s already frayed mind. Each piece shuffled around as she tried to solve the riddle before her. Minutes seemed like hours, days like weeks. Soon she wasn’t even quite sure if it was really day or night, but none of that mattered. She had to find Wren.
The forest blanketed her in the darkness that almost felt as if she were sheltered under Wren’s wing each night and allowed her to get what little sleep her racing mind offered. Yet, her eyes still grew wilder with each rest until she started to lose hold of herself. More and more frequently she clung to her enchanted pendant, reliant upon it to block out the world just long enough for her heart to stop beating from her chest. The patterns grew, compulsive tendencies which fueled the belief that if they were completed Wren would come back to her. What was once used to help cope with the feelings of death as breath escaped her lungs and adrenaline rushed through her veins was now turning into a hindrance.
Did Kindred realize how much these rituals hurt her though? The correct answer would be no, she did not.
Any hope of finding a trail of Wren had long passed, yet as the dawn managed to pull through the tiniest of openings in the forest’s canopy Kindred began her morning routine once more. A deep breath. In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. Repeated four more times. Perfectly straighten the bed of leaves into the semi-circle shape so it pushed right up against a nook in the roots of a looming tree. No leaf was allowed out of line for fear that it might cover a necessary track (a track that would most certainly be long gone almost three years later). Walk the same path that produced puddles of rainwater and drink sips in groups of five, careful not to kick any rocks or pebbles out of place. At the same time, she would scavenge for berries or edible brushes. Alas, rain puddles, berries, and brushes did not the best diet make, and even though she religious kept her coat clean one could begin to see her bones protruding along her withers, hips, and ribs.
Once satisfied she had eaten enough to have the energy to continue, she would return to where she slept to begin her search. Twenty sticks had been spread out in a circle around the tree, all jabbed into the ground as a marker for her. Five of them for each direction (north, south, east, and west). Last night she had replaced each of them as she had yanked the last one from the ground before walking straight along it’s line until she could hear the hooting of owls. Today she started at the southern-most stick and pulled it from its home, carefully laying it so that it rested at an angle against the thick root near her make-shift bed. She would walk this line until she heard the sounds of night animals once more.
Please let me find Wren. Please let there be a sign. Please. Please. Please...
Her hooves weren’t as nimble as before due to the lack of nutrition, but she tried her hardest to ensure she left no trace of her movements. Counting five steps, taking a deep breath and searching for anything different that might have been blown in, dug up, or brought to the surface from recent storms. Anything that would let her know Wren had been here. Anything that would allow her to find her (even if she was dead). Count to five. Ignore the ache in her legs. Count to five. Touch the pendent. The world isn’t collapsing around her. Count to five. Examine the new scrapes in the bark and determine it isn’t from Wren. Count to five. Plead to Oriens for a sign of her sister. Count to five. Ignore the taste of salt as tears run down her face. Refuse to stop moving.
It was probably sunset when she tried to turn back, but today she wasn’t able to. She spun on her haunches, a pain in her heart as she realized that she hadn’t even reached the overlapping “x’s” she had scrapped into the tree bark her last time this way. What if there is a sign of Wren further out there?! But it was night. She had to turn back. If she didn’t Wren was sure to be dead. She had to make it back to her leaf bed. Only fifteen steps and her limbs shook. This time it was not fear, it was exhaustion and malnutrition. Her body could not keep moving on. It needed rest. Days of it, with proper food. Five more steps and her rear legs folded under her. Gritting her teeth she tried to push herself back up but her front limbs crumpled under the additional strain.
Please don’t die because I failed. The world needs you...
She tried to accept it. Her nose pressed to the pendent. She’d have to rest here. Tomorrow she’d go back. She’d start over again the day after. She had to. She had to. She had to. She had to. She had to.
I won’t stop until I find you or this world kills me...
Husband. Marriage. Duty. The words repeated in Jane’s skull even as she turned away from them. She knew the plan of total self destruction was in play, she had seen it all before. She remembered Madame Furon of her old court, who had been found in bed with one of the palace gardeners. Everything had been taken from her, including her children. Even now, Jane did not hear the Furon name without the added lacquer of shame and scandal. Beyond that, she had watched all the plays of horrible, adulterous women who were revenged by the gods.
Perhaps it was this that Jane engaged. Her reputation was already in tatters, she had been offered up like a consolation prize to her kind but loveless spouse, and what did she have to lose. Not once had her husband touched her, not once had anyone touched her in a way that mattered. Other than Veil, but that was completely different.
In spite of herself, Jane felt embarrassment flushing against her cheeks as she walked with the armoured stallion. It was beautiful here, a creek that rang loud with the sounds of spring and birdsong. Despite the fact that they were alone, Jane didn’t think that she had ever felt as exposed as she felt right now. She looked at Vreis from the corner of her eye, and then looked away again.
“What now?” Jane asked, stopping by the edge of the water. “What happens now?” She whispered, “Tell me, am I about to ruin everything?” She turned her head so she faced him, as though she were facing her own death. Her own suicide and ruin danced before her and she courted them like a courtesan, distant and yet willing.
@[Vreis]
i've never felt more alone it feels so scary getting old
It had seemed like days. Days since Liseli came to the festival, but here he was yet again. Drawn in to the life swirling around the place, Liseli had found himself spending another nights coming back to the festival grounds. Somehow he he felt he still hadn’t managed to see all of the things the festival had to offer. Though he’d met a few other equines, fascinating in themselves, he still managed to spot the occasional odd individual.
The festival was an overwhelming flux of stimulation to Liseli’s previously lonesome existence. This is not to say that he ever felt lonely, he was content on his own, but the festival gave him a type of indulgence to his silent curiosity. The things to see the things to do, but he partook in little felling that he best not shake his fly-on-the-wall existence all too much. The creatures around him from all walks of life coming together for a moments peace and some memories best left unsaid the next day. Liseli did not judge them, in fact he was intrigued. Instead of outright ease-dropping, he’d listen to the tid-bits of stories echoing off of the tents and the various streets surfaces before continuing the stories in his own mind. The possibilities were endless.
Liseli was lost in his most recent story of a mage who’d climbed to the heights of Veneror Peak to complete some worship he’d been seeking. That is all he heard from the mage himself, before Liseli continued on developing the story in to his own. He climbed to the highest peaks to offer the roses he’d meant to give to his lover. Why he was there? Oh because he’d missed his lovers birth celebration and he was begging the god for forgiveness. Liselis face twisted in to his shy slime that he usually did every time he made himself laugh. He knew that that most likely isn’t what happened, but it was a good starting point for a little humor.
It had been sometime wandering about the festival before Liseli happened upon a rather large tent, adored on the inside with heavy sewn red tapestries of intricate designs. There was a bar to the back with a tender who seemed oddly familiar to him, but he paid little mind. What he was interested in was the prospect of a place to sit. The couched and coffee-table like things filled the tent. Here and there equines gathered together, it wasn’t as loud in here and the slight ache in his legs pushed him in to the tent. Unlike the rest of the festival the lanterns around the top of the tent seemed enchanted, flames bright enough to see but tinted glass gave them a nice ambiance.
Taking a table near the far back corner Liseli settled on to a deep emerald green type of couch. After adjusting his rather large wings and making sure his antlers didn’t hit anything, the cushions seemed to consume the part of his body in contact with it. This was perhaps the softest material Liseli had ever felt and it was nice. As Liseli settled a bit he noticed a piece of literature on the table before him, he glanced around briefly, checking to see if the owner was in attendance. He reached his head forward towards the piece adjusting the smaller lanter next to him for a bit more light so he could see. The purple from the last urns glass made the reflections on his copper coat shine particularly bring for such a semi-dim room.
He began reading quietly lost in his mind as he usually was. It was like his observations in the forest, just in very different environment.
