Well fuck me. What was I expecting - a long, happy, fulfilling life? Who knows... but certainly that is not what the Gods had in store for me, oh NO! Why would poor ol' Rostislav get to hold on to something nice? THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS!! Because Rosti has to get drunk off his fat ass and wander off into the distance never to be seen again. Of course that hadn't been my intention.. but intentions are worthless these days. Kiara, Vitani, Damaris... oh Damaris!! A pang strikes my heart like ice and I gasped for air as the unbidden tears burst to my pale eyes. Within seconds they're trickling down my face, hesitating over old scars that mar my appearance.
I fling myself to the ground, the dew from the grass tickling and wetting my face in the cool morning. I don't know where I am. I don't fucking care. Why doesn't matter now? All the I've known and loved is behind me. The emptiness is tangible. The feeling that I've lost.. everything. My friends and family, my beloved companion. I sense that she's still alive.. somewhere. But where or in what condition I haven't the faintest. My magic is gone. Even - and you'll never believe this - my VODKA is gone! That's right, the flask has run dry. I can fill it with fermented fruit I suppose but that's going to be a pain in the fucking ass.
I close my eyes and try to calm myself but the unrelenting emotions still wash over me, drowning me again and again. Breath comes quick and shallow as I can't self-soothe. I close my eyes and sob.. horrible, aching cries that a grown stallion should never cry. The tears meld with the dew. Nothing can stop me.
Except time, and finally time does stop me. The sobs ebb, my breathing slows, and I become quiet. I've cried myself out and though the pain is not gone, the well of tears has run dry. I close my eyes and listen to the sounds around me. Birds singing softly as they awaken, chipmunks and squirrels chittering angrily (most likely at me)... Never before have I wanted to be passed out, shitfaced drunk. And for the longest time nothing has prevented me. Now I'm the most sober I've been, beyond recent memory. Since childhood.
But this is the hangover I deserve... the sobriety I must suffer. These are the consequences of my actions.
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
The morning is mostly cloudy with occasional spring showers passing by occasionally. Her winter coat was still shedding like a light white snow shower. The albino zebra striping on her body becoming more and more visible as the fluff was falling with every step she took and every shake of her body. It itched all over her body that she would rub against trees and walk between bushes trying to get the patches of hair off. She would even roll on the ground if she found a particularly good spot with roots, leaves, and thick patches of grass.
As usual Weir is never in much of a hurry. Unless there is a good reason for to hurry, or run then she prefers to take her time and enjoy the scenery around her. Plus, if she took her time she could can get a better look at her surroundings for the relic or something interested for her to investigate. Why not make sure to get a good look around. Her long white and rosy tail dragged lightly in the ground, braids wrapping around the longer straight hairs. She started to reach some open land and realized that she had gotten to the Eluetheria Plain.
It’s a land for everyone. On this day though Weir only saw one in the mist of the most recent drizzle shower. The sun is blocked out and the fog hung low to the ground. It was hard to see the stranger but it looked like her was sad or tired maybe, maybe he was lost. He is unfamiliar to her. His twin horns spiraling backwards past his ears toward his body that was stocky and masculine and looked as if the rain falling on his coat has left tiny little marks in his ruby coloring. She didn’t mean to approach from his side but it was just her direction of travel.
She stopped about 300 feet away to not give the stranger the impression that she meant him any ham. He could probably trample her into the grass without much effort. Weir has Andalusian descent but she is still feminine and frail in some ways. She evolved more in her mind than in her physical skills. She would have tools and intelligence to fight with if needed too rather than pure strength. She would be nimble and quick. She tipped her head to the side trying to get a better look at the male before nickering gently and soothingly. Hello there. I am Weir. Are you looking for the relics too? She figured it was better not to ask if he was ok, men don’t usually like to talk about their feelings and she was trying to comfort rather than ask about things that were probably not her business anyways.
My mind had gone blank, filled with nothing but small, idle thoughts that held no consequence. My eyes were still closed when I heard first the faint approach of some four legged creature. The approach stops and a female voice speaks out to me. A nicked and an introduction. Weir. Relics. I lift my dewy mug into the foggy air and glance her direction.
The first thing I do is just stare in silence. Of course I've seen some interesting creatures in my time, but that doesn't change my intrigue whenever I meet some new beast. The silver eyes in my skull take in her paleness, the rosy stripes decorating her like a damn zebra. Horns of a caribou tinged with red. Jewelry hung from them as well. Her mane and tail long and silky. Once I'm satisfied that I've made a relatively good picture in my mind, I flop my head unceremoniously back onto the ground and grunt as a blade of grass pokes me in the eye. Motherfucker..
I close my eyes again and hesitate a moment, slowing thinking about a reply. I grunted out some nonsense. "Rostislav." My voice is rough, dry - a combination of underuse and rawness from crying. "I don't know what the relics are you speak of." Did I care? Maybe, maybe not. I would be lying if I said it didn't spark my curiosity. I sighed, surrendering to the intrigue that she'd stirred in me. Perhaps these relics could be used to bring back some of the happiness I'd once known? Damaris.. oh how I missed her. I could use a relic to barter with a God and get one of them to bring her back to me.
Sitting up, and then standing, I shook the droplets off of my shaggy pelt and returned to staring at Weir. She seemed about my age, maybe a little younger. Casually I wondered if she was from around here, or how she got here otherwise. Was she as lost and desolate as I? I took a few steps toward her, non-threatening except for my generally rough exterior. "Tell me more, lass."
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
Rosy ears flicked towards the male. She thought maybe for a second he looked sad, or tired. She still couldn’t tell any further than before. He looked older than Weir. When he lifts his head, she could see the unique horns on the front of his face. They look like a wave running up the bridge of her nose. She took a step towards him in case he had any troubles in getting up. Weir listened to him speak in a voice that seemed dusty and rough like his voice has spent too many suns or smoked too many cigarettes. Rostislav. The name fit perfectly for him, something new, something used. It is a tough name with a bit of mystery and curiosity. She had never heard anything like it. She was going to respond to his second comment before he started to get up.
His powerful and taunt muscles pulling his weight up. She saw his lions tail now and it was exciting. She had never seen anything like that but at the same time a lump began to form in her throat. She genuinely is a trusting person but right before she was taken here, appeared her, whatever had happened to her. There was a guy, a guy who was good, he was sweet, and she thought he was going to take care of her and be her future. She thought that she didn’t need her father and that she wanted to pick the one she loves and not be sold away. She decided on one man and ran away. But that man was nothing like he said he was going to be to her…. nothing but mean.
This lump is deep and small but it jumps as he stands and looks to her. The smile melting a little bit but she tries. She knows he is not that other man, but would she know what he looked like in their world? She swallows the lump down as best as she could. Her stature is several hands taller than him. There is a relic somewhere in Novus. It was owner by the god of time. The god of gods, tempus. I don’t know what it looks like or what it does but when I got her I could feel it in the air. It is somewhere and it wants to be found. I feel like it is the beginning of something big maybe. I have done some searching but no luck yet but I still feel the gods are watching. She looked off around the plains around them like maybe one of them could be there right now before she looked back to the name.Rostilav is it? Are you new here? I am new too but I like your accent. It is like I have never heard it before.
I feel myself soften toward the strange zebra unicorn known as Weir. Everything about her is strange, but she seems nice enough, and I feel my grouchiness soften slightly. She's a lovely lass and though I want to be angry with her for disturbing me, I can't find the wrath within me.
I toss my forelock from my eyes and get a better look. Braids decorate her locks as well, and her eyes seem soft and kind. She reminds me of Kiara... and I wonder sadly what became of my one-time lover and mate, and her panther companion Keiran. There's no way to know.. no way to assuage the guilt I feel at having left them behind in Helovia. A bad mate, a bad father... certainly unworthy of the love they had for me. I had never returned it that way.. and for all the loyalty I claimed to have I had shown none when Midas died.
Weir's voice pulls me from the dark path I feel I've started down. A sharp intake of air clears the remaining shadows from my mind and I focus all of my intention on the story she tells. It's not just interesting but a lot of information. Novus must be the place I've come to.. this new land that is definitely not Helovia. Tempus.. the name of the Time God? I did not know he had a name... we all called him the Time God or the God of the Spark.... but my thoughts are cut short as she calls him the god of gods. That sounds quite different from what I know. Is this a different Time God? Some strange thing, owned by Tempus, is of some importance. And we have to find it.
Huh.
Her curiosity about me continues in verbal form. "Yes, I am from Mother Russia, originally. But recently from... Helovia." Though Russia will always be near and dear to my cold, rusty heart, it does not hold the same regret that Helovia does. I refrain from saying more, not knowing what words may spill from my lips. But the relic enters my mind again. "Where do we find it?"
home is behind the world ahead
there are many paths to tread
She quickly realizes there are more depths to the silver eyes that she considers. Something turns behind them in his mind like storm clouds rolling in and blanketing the earth. Sparks shooting across the surface like reflections from the sun. She cannot know what lies in the neurons of it's cortex. She can relate. There are things she hides from the outside world behind all her pleasantries. There are things she may never speak in person to anyone about her past. She will smile past her commonalities for she would rather not think about them anyways. She blinks slowly as studies him, while he studies her. Each one evaluating the other.
Weir listened to these strange places that he spoke of Russia… that is strange but helovia is stranger yet. Where is this man from? How come she has never heard of any of these places? What are those places like? Are they like Novus? Her mind changes again as he asks about the relic. The thought of it brings her back the reality of what is happening in the here and now. The relic? I have no idea. No one seems to know much about it besides where it came from. I don’t know what it looks like, heck, I don’t even know if it is real. What would you do with it if you found it? She smiled and cocked a hind hawk. Her striped ivory hip dropping even so slightly. The rest of her still felt alive and electric with the thoughts of the relic.
'I don't even know if it is real.' Well that'd be a damn shit show... if everyone in Novus is looking for something that doesn't exist? A horrible prank that the Gods would have played. A snarl builds in me at the thought but I quash it like a gnat. There's no need to let if's get in the way of such a glorious adventure. I step closer to her and realize that her excitement at the prospect is tangible, electrifying, even. I sigh softly and let her joy lift my spirits. The light brightens my eyes and I step one stride closer, so we are near each other. "If I found it?" I hesitate, though the answer is immediate in my mind. "I would barter it with the Gods - to bring my Damaris back to me." The pain is audible in my voice, and signs of my recent tears can be heard if you listen closely. I bite my tongue, trying to keep it together. "And what would you do with it?" I look out onto the plains, imagining the Gods descending and congratulating us petty mortals on our wonderful discovery. Rewards? Praise? Parties? VODKA. That would be nice, indeed.
I flick my tail in thought, eyes glazing over for a moment. "Why do you think it's here? Where are we supposed to look? I don't know anything about this place..." I trail off, uncertainty clouding my voice. I look back at the zebra lady. I wonder how much exploring she will do to find the relic. How important is it? Does it need finding? There are too many questions and I'm afraid I'm making myself dizzy trying to comprehend it all. I'm gonna have to sit the hell down if I don't calm my titties.
