our dead
drink the sea
drink the sea
Ki'irha
Born a summer child, Ki’irha had always preferred the warmth that the season had brought. However, her love for summer was held in stark contrast against her love for her old home, as the heat Tallsun used to bring was always tampered by the year-round chill of the northern mountains. However, in recent weeks, her past had remained firmly planted where it belonged (behind her, a breathless memory, a place she would never again exist within), so now she found herself just wandering, a ghost within the new world, barely noticing the crisp beauty of the nights, nor the calm chill of the days.
The midnight woman moved carefully along the perilous cliffs. Upon her back rested a bundle, secured with charred and cracked leather straps. The mound, once a pristine white wolf pelt, was now just a mass of burnt and muddled fur, and within it were the broken remains of a lantern - twisted black metal, shards of glass, stardust in the form of dull glitter that had remained when the rest of it dissipated into the clean air - and shattered crystal containing a single sparkling flower that had already wilted away, forsaking it’s eternal living glory. She carried the burden with solemn respect, as it was all that remained of her earthly possessions, minus the feathers that were tangled within her mane, the only mementos she carried on of her family. She had hidden the items away, incase scavengers wished to claim the trash as their own, but what she called it was treasure. She had found her mind stuck within the past, and she needed to snap out of it. She had wondered if she cast these last belongings away in a ceremonious fashion, perhaps there would be a chance that she could finally begin moving forward.
The sea called to her, and perhaps that’s why she had decided that this would be a good location to place her memorial. The ocean breeze played with her mane, the salty spray from the crashing waves casting its scent upon her. It was calming, despite the energy expended facing the difficult climb, but that would make it all the more worth it. The warrior girl had nearly made it to her destination when she cast her stormy gaze over the sea, wanting to take in the view, when she realized she wasn’t fully and totally alone.
A soft sigh escaped her as the corners of her mouth turned down. She watched the pegasus mare dip and dive, cutting easily through the air, dancing upon the currents of the breeze. It was graceful and grandiose, but having never flown, the unicorn didn’t understand that it was harder than it looked. She traced the long feathers of the other woman, glanced at the sword she wore upon her brow, and wondered if Mesec had ever done this. She wondered if her prince could be found tumbling through the sky, if he still found joy high above the earth, she wondered if he was happy…
Shaking the image of him from her head, she continued forward, knowing that she was so close to her destination that it wasn’t worth turning around. Soon enough, she found flat turf beneath her hooves, and watched the golden dame land upon the grass. She had worked up quite a sweat, and Ki’irha tipped her head to the side, wondering if she looked that ethereal when she had completed her warrior’s tasks. She simply watched for a moment, listening to the woman speak, though the breeze stole most of the words away. Had she interrupted something more important than her own means?
She cleared her throat, moving forward carefully, and finally spoke. “It’s a beautiful view up here,” she began, voice even, yet kind. “I’ve never been up here before, though I can understand why so many have braved the trip. It’s breathtaking. I hope I’m not interrupting anything? The area is certainly big enough, I can continue on my way to give you your solitude, if you’d prefer.”
Though she was honest in her remarks, she hoped that the other woman wouldn’t send her away. She hadn’t seen the rest of this place, yet this outlook seemed perfect. Her pack seemed heavy suddenly, and as she shrugged her shoulders to even the load, a flap of the pack came loose, and out tumbled her hair comb. She didn’t notice the item when it fell free, though it had always been a favorite among her possessions. It had been crafted by Sohalia within the Heart Caves, when she preserved one of the native flowers, and though the crystal now had deep cracks and the flower had all but died, it still retained patches of silvery petals, and those spots still sparkled like stars. Perhaps it would still be recognizable, should the demigoddess had ever witnessed them in their glory. Ki’irha would always understand the beauty of the flower, would always remember how it was one of thousands, but would Israfel remember it? They shared similar threads upon the tapestries of the past; perhaps the dying flower would serve as a missing link.
Perhaps Ki’irha wasn’t that alone in this new world after all.
Born a summer child, Ki’irha had always preferred the warmth that the season had brought. However, her love for summer was held in stark contrast against her love for her old home, as the heat Tallsun used to bring was always tampered by the year-round chill of the northern mountains. However, in recent weeks, her past had remained firmly planted where it belonged (behind her, a breathless memory, a place she would never again exist within), so now she found herself just wandering, a ghost within the new world, barely noticing the crisp beauty of the nights, nor the calm chill of the days.
The midnight woman moved carefully along the perilous cliffs. Upon her back rested a bundle, secured with charred and cracked leather straps. The mound, once a pristine white wolf pelt, was now just a mass of burnt and muddled fur, and within it were the broken remains of a lantern - twisted black metal, shards of glass, stardust in the form of dull glitter that had remained when the rest of it dissipated into the clean air - and shattered crystal containing a single sparkling flower that had already wilted away, forsaking it’s eternal living glory. She carried the burden with solemn respect, as it was all that remained of her earthly possessions, minus the feathers that were tangled within her mane, the only mementos she carried on of her family. She had hidden the items away, incase scavengers wished to claim the trash as their own, but what she called it was treasure. She had found her mind stuck within the past, and she needed to snap out of it. She had wondered if she cast these last belongings away in a ceremonious fashion, perhaps there would be a chance that she could finally begin moving forward.
The sea called to her, and perhaps that’s why she had decided that this would be a good location to place her memorial. The ocean breeze played with her mane, the salty spray from the crashing waves casting its scent upon her. It was calming, despite the energy expended facing the difficult climb, but that would make it all the more worth it. The warrior girl had nearly made it to her destination when she cast her stormy gaze over the sea, wanting to take in the view, when she realized she wasn’t fully and totally alone.
A soft sigh escaped her as the corners of her mouth turned down. She watched the pegasus mare dip and dive, cutting easily through the air, dancing upon the currents of the breeze. It was graceful and grandiose, but having never flown, the unicorn didn’t understand that it was harder than it looked. She traced the long feathers of the other woman, glanced at the sword she wore upon her brow, and wondered if Mesec had ever done this. She wondered if her prince could be found tumbling through the sky, if he still found joy high above the earth, she wondered if he was happy…
Shaking the image of him from her head, she continued forward, knowing that she was so close to her destination that it wasn’t worth turning around. Soon enough, she found flat turf beneath her hooves, and watched the golden dame land upon the grass. She had worked up quite a sweat, and Ki’irha tipped her head to the side, wondering if she looked that ethereal when she had completed her warrior’s tasks. She simply watched for a moment, listening to the woman speak, though the breeze stole most of the words away. Had she interrupted something more important than her own means?
She cleared her throat, moving forward carefully, and finally spoke. “It’s a beautiful view up here,” she began, voice even, yet kind. “I’ve never been up here before, though I can understand why so many have braved the trip. It’s breathtaking. I hope I’m not interrupting anything? The area is certainly big enough, I can continue on my way to give you your solitude, if you’d prefer.”
Though she was honest in her remarks, she hoped that the other woman wouldn’t send her away. She hadn’t seen the rest of this place, yet this outlook seemed perfect. Her pack seemed heavy suddenly, and as she shrugged her shoulders to even the load, a flap of the pack came loose, and out tumbled her hair comb. She didn’t notice the item when it fell free, though it had always been a favorite among her possessions. It had been crafted by Sohalia within the Heart Caves, when she preserved one of the native flowers, and though the crystal now had deep cracks and the flower had all but died, it still retained patches of silvery petals, and those spots still sparkled like stars. Perhaps it would still be recognizable, should the demigoddess had ever witnessed them in their glory. Ki’irha would always understand the beauty of the flower, would always remember how it was one of thousands, but would Israfel remember it? They shared similar threads upon the tapestries of the past; perhaps the dying flower would serve as a missing link.
Perhaps Ki’irha wasn’t that alone in this new world after all.
@Israfel
