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+---- Thread: [P] The Edge of the World (/showthread.php?tid=5418)
The Edge of the World - Csilla - 08-19-2020
Don't you feel lonely living in your own little world?
Dusk had tightened its grip on me. The soft hues of daylight as it faded to night consuming my waking moments. Thus far my time in Novus had been completely directionless. Before me, I had countless choices - each one influenced only by my mind and desires. Easily I could have left behind Terrastella. I had no ties there, no emotions to cloud my judgment with its bias. There were many new corners of this land waiting to be discovered. Kept on a tight leash throughout my life, such freedom should have seemed appealing. Instead, I felt my soul balking- pulled towards the easternmost reach of Dusk.
I'd heard many stories of the sea - seen the waves rolling into the bay where the kingdom's docks resided. Never, however, had I laid eyes upon the full vastness of it. Luvena had done her best to educate me on the many different landscapes found within Novus. At the mention of the sea, my interest had been piqued.
Leaving the malnourished mare behind had been more difficult than I'd imagined. Since the moment she had rescued me from my lonely wanderings, I sensed that she understood my pain. Careful, as always, I did not find it easy to discuss the intricate happenings of my past. Complicated and confusing, I knew that I'd been privileged. I'd never gone without a meal, or suffered pain at the hands of my father. Treated like a ceramic doll, mine had been a shell cushioned with silk sheets. Hardly waiting for a single thing. Spoiled. The jewels I was forced to wear upon me were all the evidence anyone would need to this fact.
The muck and the mud of the swamp were behind me, and I followed the salty scent of the coast. The heaviness of it filled my lungs - almost making it hard to breathe as I climbed the slightly inclining path. For a moment, I imagined the raucous sounds of the shipyard that would waft through the open windows of the Palace Sanctuary. There were many days that I would sit and watch, my mind dreaming up the many different lands the sailors could visit. They had been limited only by the loads they were charged to transport. Below, they were a reminder of a life I would never possess. Then, I knew I would never be free enough to spread my wings and fly as they could. Unbridled and unchained, the tables had now turned. Drastically my life had been altered - even despite the golden collar that remained tight around my neck.
Slipping past towering rocky outcrops, wind-whipped all around me. The long flowing locks of my mane danced wildly in the air about my face. Clove and nutmeg was an assault to my nostrils - a faint reminder of the Emperor's chosen perfume. Never again would I bathe in the expensive soaps provided to the Emperor's many wives. The scent of it was now nauseating. Absently, I began to contemplate what my next perfume might be. Rose, perhaps - or jasmine. My options were now limitless, the concept that I was free to make my own choices still shocking.
Beneath opal encrusted hooves I marveled at how the terrain had shifted. From the slippery sogginess of the swamp to the now dangerously rocky footing I faced, it was almost impossible to imagine such diversity within one kingdom. With every step taken, loosened pebbles rolled free and downward. All around me, gorges were cut from the green - creating dangerous cliffsides that would happily swallow me whole. Unsteady, my leonine tail whipped wildly about in an attempt to maintain my balance. I should have stopped, spun around, and returned to the comfortingly flat grounding I'd grown accustomed to. The sound of waves crashing against stone, however, echoed in my ears and kept me moving forward.
For a moment, it sounded as if I had reached the end of the world. Even the air around me felt as if it wished for my demise as it battered violently against me. Almost without realizing it, the ground disappeared in front of me - sufficiently halting me. I should have been afraid as rocks crumbled at the sudden influence of my weight. There was no way of knowing whether or not the ledge where I stood was capable of holding me, but I also didn't seem to care. Stone still, my muscles remained taught as I stared out at the endless blue that stretched out below. I was small in comparison to the vastness I now beheld. Tears pricked at my eyes - pure emeralds dripping diamonds. I was nothing but a speck, a moment in time. Insignificant and unimportant.
I'd heard many stories of the sea - seen the waves rolling into the bay where the kingdom's docks resided. Never, however, had I laid eyes upon the full vastness of it. Luvena had done her best to educate me on the many different landscapes found within Novus. At the mention of the sea, my interest had been piqued.
Leaving the malnourished mare behind had been more difficult than I'd imagined. Since the moment she had rescued me from my lonely wanderings, I sensed that she understood my pain. Careful, as always, I did not find it easy to discuss the intricate happenings of my past. Complicated and confusing, I knew that I'd been privileged. I'd never gone without a meal, or suffered pain at the hands of my father. Treated like a ceramic doll, mine had been a shell cushioned with silk sheets. Hardly waiting for a single thing. Spoiled. The jewels I was forced to wear upon me were all the evidence anyone would need to this fact.
The muck and the mud of the swamp were behind me, and I followed the salty scent of the coast. The heaviness of it filled my lungs - almost making it hard to breathe as I climbed the slightly inclining path. For a moment, I imagined the raucous sounds of the shipyard that would waft through the open windows of the Palace Sanctuary. There were many days that I would sit and watch, my mind dreaming up the many different lands the sailors could visit. They had been limited only by the loads they were charged to transport. Below, they were a reminder of a life I would never possess. Then, I knew I would never be free enough to spread my wings and fly as they could. Unbridled and unchained, the tables had now turned. Drastically my life had been altered - even despite the golden collar that remained tight around my neck.
Slipping past towering rocky outcrops, wind-whipped all around me. The long flowing locks of my mane danced wildly in the air about my face. Clove and nutmeg was an assault to my nostrils - a faint reminder of the Emperor's chosen perfume. Never again would I bathe in the expensive soaps provided to the Emperor's many wives. The scent of it was now nauseating. Absently, I began to contemplate what my next perfume might be. Rose, perhaps - or jasmine. My options were now limitless, the concept that I was free to make my own choices still shocking.
Beneath opal encrusted hooves I marveled at how the terrain had shifted. From the slippery sogginess of the swamp to the now dangerously rocky footing I faced, it was almost impossible to imagine such diversity within one kingdom. With every step taken, loosened pebbles rolled free and downward. All around me, gorges were cut from the green - creating dangerous cliffsides that would happily swallow me whole. Unsteady, my leonine tail whipped wildly about in an attempt to maintain my balance. I should have stopped, spun around, and returned to the comfortingly flat grounding I'd grown accustomed to. The sound of waves crashing against stone, however, echoed in my ears and kept me moving forward.
For a moment, it sounded as if I had reached the end of the world. Even the air around me felt as if it wished for my demise as it battered violently against me. Almost without realizing it, the ground disappeared in front of me - sufficiently halting me. I should have been afraid as rocks crumbled at the sudden influence of my weight. There was no way of knowing whether or not the ledge where I stood was capable of holding me, but I also didn't seem to care. Stone still, my muscles remained taught as I stared out at the endless blue that stretched out below. I was small in comparison to the vastness I now beheld. Tears pricked at my eyes - pure emeralds dripping diamonds. I was nothing but a speck, a moment in time. Insignificant and unimportant.
@
RE: The Edge of the World - Cairo - 08-22-2020
He comes with desert heat peeling off his skin. The air os Terrastella is damp and full of salt as the breeze blow in off the sea. Aquilline, Cairo follows the currents of hot air. They push him up, up to where the sun blazes hot and consuming. It heats along the Arete’s spine. It wards off the icy bite of winter that prowls with tooth and claw ready to sink deep through clothes and skin and press upon bone a chilling kiss.
Cairo spots the evergreen woods of Terrastella. He tips his wings and descends, gilded and fierce, out of the skies. He lands upon the cliff and the waters rage beneath him, furious a desert man has slipped its wet, drowning grasp. The crown of sharp feathers atop his poll ripple in the wind. They cut the air as if their vanes were not soft but made of sharpened metal.
Cairo prowls from where he lands. His feathered tail hisses as it runs over the blades of meadow grasses. The spires of his ears are elegant yet they crumble as pyramids to his skull. His sharp, eagle eyes snag upon a girl who deeters close toward the cliffedge. Pearls and jewels adorn her. They press into her soft skin, they tangle like tears from her neck. She weeps and the sea air kisses the bejeweled tears from her fragile cheeks.
She is slim and fragile in the way that all Terrastellans are. She is delicate like their flowers, as fine at their piped glass. She is fae in the way Cairo is half monster. He is abrasive sand and intense passion that burns as hot as the scolding sun. The collar about her slender throat gleams and calls the aquilline stallion in.
Cairo comes to her, caustic and wild. He sets his avian gaze upon her and the sea calls up to him, demanding a prize, a taste of her jewels or a chance to drown the sand that clings to his skin. He ripples heat and the cool of winter upon her skin slips, feline against him. “Step too close,” he begins, his voice low and rough like rust, “and it is a long fall to a wet and icy death.”
He drinks in the soft of her, the wet of her thick lashes that press upon the arch of her cheekbone. She is new and strange and lovely. She is nothing like the desert.
@
RE: The Edge of the World - Csilla - 08-22-2020
Don't you feel lonely living in your own little world?
Below the blackened waves are merciless. They churn angrily as the water is thrown at the cliffside. Loosened stones rattle as they fall into the sea, chipped away by the force exerted upon its face. Staring into its depths my hooves caress the edge of the world. My very presence there is a temptation to fate. Yet, I am not afraid. All around me the illusion of stone walls brings me comfort. Jagged towers of moss-covered cliffs cut through the mist that hug the many contours of the land. For a moment, it’s as if I am carved from the surrounding scenery. Petite and lithe, my figure is barely indiscernible. Seemingly carved from stone, I imagine that I am as ageless as the land. Emotion swells within me like the sea, dangerous and tempestuous. Like raindrops upon stone, tears stain my striped face - finalizing my camouflage.
A flock of birds erupts in a frenzy of flight, their shadows large upon the dark water below. Harsh and unpleasant, their cries carried themselves upon the wind to assault my ears. Unlike the melodious tunes of many other birds, these were more akin to that of a scream. Loud and intense its sound resonates within my core. White crisp feathers glue themselves to my attention, my emerald gaze following them until they disappear beyond the horizon. My ears remain pricked forward, even after the sight of them is lost. For a moment I imagine that wings sprout from my back, powerful and capable of carrying me away. The sensation of flight is one I can only dream about. Though I'd heard of such flighted equines existing, I'd yet to lay eyes upon such a concoction. Bound to the land, I was forever forced to live within the confines of my mind.
I was once a child of the desert. Born amongst the prickly thrones of cacti and made strong upon an unforgiving land. Dry earth prevented most from being able to prosper there, but I had persevered. Trapped within a prison of wrought iron I had been kept from losing myself to its viciousness. My father had been named regent there. A title that afforded comfort while inspiring a deep sense of rejection. A sentence worse than death by his own description. The farthest outlying district under the Emperor's rule, our family was not truly welcome at court. My birth had provided him with hope. Hope that he could escape the padded prison cell he had been forced to occupy. Without blinking he had traded my life for a place at the Emperor's side. The man I had regarded with love and affection, who had showered me in every resource afforded to him, had not raised a single complaint when my execution was decided. My life not worth more to him than the approval of the High Court.
I thought about that moment often. When the city bells rang for days on end, their ominous sound detailing that change was on the horizon. The Emperor was dead, found lifeless in his bedsheets. Chaos permeated the palace halls as sobs echoed through its Sanctuary. Having lived amongst the deceased king's many wives and concubines, I stood in complete silence. I could not tell whether they cried for his fate or the knowledge of theirs. Repeatedly the vows I took on my wedding day echoed through my mind. They were absolute - unavoidable. In life and death, our service was to be for the Emperor's use. His light had faded, and now ours would be extinguished so that our souls could be rejoined with his. At only three years of age, I would not see another spring's thaw. My death sentence was secured, and, even then, I had not been afraid.
All consumed, my past felt more fitting of another of more advanced age. I did not feel saddened by the many twists and turns I'd endured, rather I felt detached. The reality I now faced as foreign to me as the boiling sea below. Clouds gathered upon the horizon, casting a long shadow upon the water. Watching as it slowly overtook the blue of the sky, I am unaware of the stallion carried upon the wind. His eyes upon me are nothing but the strokes of wind billowing through my mane. There is no hiding from his questioning gaze by the time his voice wafts into the softness of my lobes. Jolted back to reality, I sidestep away from the ledge and turn my body to consider the winged intruder. Emeralds lock onto his lean frame and my breath is stolen.
Despite the feathers that cling to his sleek frame, there is an unnamed air of familiarity that reaches towards me. Joined by the salty air, the scent of heat and cactus blossoms fills my nostrils. It is rich and bold - like the desert plains. At one time I might have bathed in the same perfume, but years of life in the city have rid me of such nuances. A forgotten face to the land I had once revered. Now a stranger to its eyes as well as the eyes of the stallion stood before me.
Only as silence stretches between us do I remember the warning he had extended to me. Strange amidst the darkness of my thoughts, my mind balks against it. Should I be afraid, I contemplate with a furrowed brow. Perhaps I was foolish not to heed his warning. As if I hoped to bring him some form of comfort, I took a step towards him - the movement feeling more dangerous to me than that of the ledge.
"I do not fear death," I say despite my hesitance to pull away from it. I'd escaped the grave more times than I cared to recount. In many ways, I felt marked by its cold breath. Death seemed to ride upon my back - having already taken my mother away from me. I had not even the time to learn her name before her final breath escaped past her lips. Though he might not believe it, life was not yet ready to be rid of me.
A flock of birds erupts in a frenzy of flight, their shadows large upon the dark water below. Harsh and unpleasant, their cries carried themselves upon the wind to assault my ears. Unlike the melodious tunes of many other birds, these were more akin to that of a scream. Loud and intense its sound resonates within my core. White crisp feathers glue themselves to my attention, my emerald gaze following them until they disappear beyond the horizon. My ears remain pricked forward, even after the sight of them is lost. For a moment I imagine that wings sprout from my back, powerful and capable of carrying me away. The sensation of flight is one I can only dream about. Though I'd heard of such flighted equines existing, I'd yet to lay eyes upon such a concoction. Bound to the land, I was forever forced to live within the confines of my mind.
I was once a child of the desert. Born amongst the prickly thrones of cacti and made strong upon an unforgiving land. Dry earth prevented most from being able to prosper there, but I had persevered. Trapped within a prison of wrought iron I had been kept from losing myself to its viciousness. My father had been named regent there. A title that afforded comfort while inspiring a deep sense of rejection. A sentence worse than death by his own description. The farthest outlying district under the Emperor's rule, our family was not truly welcome at court. My birth had provided him with hope. Hope that he could escape the padded prison cell he had been forced to occupy. Without blinking he had traded my life for a place at the Emperor's side. The man I had regarded with love and affection, who had showered me in every resource afforded to him, had not raised a single complaint when my execution was decided. My life not worth more to him than the approval of the High Court.
I thought about that moment often. When the city bells rang for days on end, their ominous sound detailing that change was on the horizon. The Emperor was dead, found lifeless in his bedsheets. Chaos permeated the palace halls as sobs echoed through its Sanctuary. Having lived amongst the deceased king's many wives and concubines, I stood in complete silence. I could not tell whether they cried for his fate or the knowledge of theirs. Repeatedly the vows I took on my wedding day echoed through my mind. They were absolute - unavoidable. In life and death, our service was to be for the Emperor's use. His light had faded, and now ours would be extinguished so that our souls could be rejoined with his. At only three years of age, I would not see another spring's thaw. My death sentence was secured, and, even then, I had not been afraid.
All consumed, my past felt more fitting of another of more advanced age. I did not feel saddened by the many twists and turns I'd endured, rather I felt detached. The reality I now faced as foreign to me as the boiling sea below. Clouds gathered upon the horizon, casting a long shadow upon the water. Watching as it slowly overtook the blue of the sky, I am unaware of the stallion carried upon the wind. His eyes upon me are nothing but the strokes of wind billowing through my mane. There is no hiding from his questioning gaze by the time his voice wafts into the softness of my lobes. Jolted back to reality, I sidestep away from the ledge and turn my body to consider the winged intruder. Emeralds lock onto his lean frame and my breath is stolen.
Despite the feathers that cling to his sleek frame, there is an unnamed air of familiarity that reaches towards me. Joined by the salty air, the scent of heat and cactus blossoms fills my nostrils. It is rich and bold - like the desert plains. At one time I might have bathed in the same perfume, but years of life in the city have rid me of such nuances. A forgotten face to the land I had once revered. Now a stranger to its eyes as well as the eyes of the stallion stood before me.
Only as silence stretches between us do I remember the warning he had extended to me. Strange amidst the darkness of my thoughts, my mind balks against it. Should I be afraid, I contemplate with a furrowed brow. Perhaps I was foolish not to heed his warning. As if I hoped to bring him some form of comfort, I took a step towards him - the movement feeling more dangerous to me than that of the ledge.
"I do not fear death," I say despite my hesitance to pull away from it. I'd escaped the grave more times than I cared to recount. In many ways, I felt marked by its cold breath. Death seemed to ride upon my back - having already taken my mother away from me. I had not even the time to learn her name before her final breath escaped past her lips. Though he might not believe it, life was not yet ready to be rid of me.
@