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+--- Thread: [P] Half-built churches (/showthread.php?tid=19896)
Gaucho didn't know what to think about the half-built church.
On the one hand, there wasn't much precedence when it came to projects of this magnitude. The wall which was meant to surround the Throat in years passed was only ever partially built at best - it hadn't even come close to enclosing their sandy home, and yet it was heralded as more or less a success. At least, his previous crafters had never been scolded for its lack of completion. And even though the Sun God had seen fit to bless them with an abundance of materials for an entire season, much of that effort had gone into the creation of other things - of keys and pillars, armor and items. So perhaps there was no reason to be annoyed that the church only stood partially erected.
And yet ...
Yet he was.
Perhaps it was because Maren, who possessed not only the ability to commune with the Gods but to craft herself, was in charge of this. Maren had been so vocal about Gaucho's failings, and had never hesitated to let him know what she thought of him, and yet when he left her to her own devices what did she do? Built herself a boat (likely to spite him), and left her church in ruins.
Gaucho's stormy gaze surveyed the half-created columns, the partially erected walls. He saw rocks and metal scattered around, waiting to be formed into something useful. Uneasily his gaze sifted through the mess, as he wondered if perhaps it was because Maren needed more help? There was Cera and now more recently Ranjiri who possessed the ability to shape metals. Did they simply not want to work with the odd-winged mare? He had seen his own son, Rhoa, trying to help out a few months prior. Had he been dismissed?
Sighing, Gaucho folded his ever-burning wings against his flanks and picked his way through the partially built church, wondering.
The winter had turned the orange of her home into a desurated version of the environment. But, however it whetted its sharp teeth and pointy claws on the mainland, the island was left with only mere remnants of the piercing northern winds. And thus, as she walked, Maren watched the snow fall – and the snow melt, in the arms of the island's warmth. With a thoughtful expression in her eyes, she waded through the sand, into the direction of the Church and the Fire where she normally resided. Especially in the night the place was extra cozy. Walled in by the ruins of a yet to complete church, and with a fire not to far away to warm up. She really enjoyed her nights there, but a girl had to eat, and – without being rude – the food the Throat had to offer was simply not as good as that on the mainland.
But her frown deepened with that thought. And yet… After her grass-hunt today she wasn’t so sure any more. The whole Helovia was covered in marble dust, after all. Just like the Fires had predicted. (And shit got serious once food in the Throat was better chew-able than than somewhere else). But with all that she knew, there was too much she still didn't. And with that her eyes sank away in thought.
She was just arguing with herself on how she should appreciate the desert grasses and cacti more, when a dark figure appeared through the falling snow. But it was not his darkness that drew her attention. No, there was darkness enough cast over the Throat with the snow-filled clouds hiding the sun. His blazing wings were the one to steal away her attention. Distracted Maren’s own wings rose slightly from their lazy position next to her haloed head. Her ears hopped forward, interested in the mysterious nature of his visit. “Sultan”, Maren greeted with surprise through the cold dusts. A few seconds later she halted her steps, standing with him in the ruins of their Church. The golds in her eyes shimmered silently as she watched him with the corners of her lips deepened into a smile. “I actually wanted to talk to you, Gaucho. But is there something I can do for you first?” Maren’s eyes wandered over her surroundings, over the pillars and the stone left in debris scattered over the building site. “You seem a little down today.” She said, as she glanced at him from the corners of her eyes, his fiery wings reflecting in her eyes of embers.
At the sound of her approach, Gaucho turned to see a dim halo of light gently bobbing towards him. The closer she came, the more the flames from his wings cast long and bright trailed of light on her already-striped coat. She appeared with a golden sheen on a canvas he knew to be white, and the effect was amplified by the flecks of fire-bright gold in her eyes. "Maren." He greeted, unable to annunciate the way her name was meant to be - his tongue simply couldn't replicate the rolling rr, but he did his best.
As she inquired into his state of mind, Gaucho wearily shook his head. He didn't want to bother the Diviner with politics that didn't concern her, but his lips began to move regardless. "Gaucho just tired .. Gaucho not know what will happen with herds ... " He shook his antlered crown slightly as if trying to focus his thoughts, but failing to. "Maren know there was Invasion ... Edge no longer want to stay in Edge because of Goddess and her murders ... so they take over Falls but ... " Turning to her, his stormy gaze sought out the calm depths of her own eyes, his confusion reflected in the pinpoints of light that danced in the darkness. "...so many stay in Edge. Gaucho not know why ... did Edge lie, when they say that's why they wanted to invade? Did Goddess do something? Gaucho... not know. And Gaucho not like not-knowing." He concluded darkly.
His muscular blue-striped shoulders shrugged, as if to suggest that there was nothing that anyone could do. The new Kings of the Edge - Mauja and Torleik - had been hiding in their wintery cliffs for some time now. Even the Basin had made the trek to see him, and Meg had gone to the Falls. The Edge however, remained silent and stoic. Were they planning something? Was the Goddess planing something? Gaucho just didn't know - and without that information, he was at a loss as to how to protect his family should danger come their way. He doubted that Maren would have the answers he was looking for, and so he let the subject seemingly pass.
"What Maren want to talk about?" He inquired, half expecting her to ask him to turn off his ever-burning fiery wings, or something else.
The diviner watched her Sultan shook his head, as if telling her to not ask anything about his depressed state. She blinked, perhaps hoping to see the proud stallion she was used to once she had reopened her eyelids. Tired? She questioned in thought. But then he voiced his concerns and, as he let them out, she knew this was the time. Still, instead of interrupting him, her lips lay still and closed as her gaze wandered to the horizon as her mind took in his worries.
Winter had come, not only in season and she knew suddenly that Gaucho needed the enlightenment of the visions – he needed to know what the Fires had told her. “This”, she softly whispered as she turned her alabaster head away from the horizon, to look into his stormy gaze. “This is what I wanted to talk to you about.” The priestess said her eyes speaking with sincerity. “I have looked into the Fires, Gaucho. They told me about the winter that was coming, how sharp its claws would be.” The burgundy shades of her eyes darkened against the reflecting fires. “Sharp,” she concluded with a grave tune in her outlandish voice. Then she let out a sigh as her gaze fell upon the light of the diviners Fire in the distance. She suddenly felt the weight of the information leaving her. She hadn't really realized how heavy it had pressed on her. “But it also told me about the herds. Something about making a decision of importance; a shared aim. But perhaps a decision that will make or break the relationships we have with some of our allies so far.” She pondered on in her head as she slipped into her mind’s eye, to re-watch the visions she had had. Meanwhile, the winter winds caressed her cheeks with its icy hands and pulled on her ivory mane with their gentle stroking.
“But perhaps that could have been the invasion into the Edge.” She fell silent for a moment as she turned her gaze to Gaucho again. “I am sorry, I couldn’t see it clear enough,” she said softer again. “There were banners, but I couldn’t read them. Some were being left behind.” Her eyes were now surrounded by a deep frown. If only she simply knew – just knew. But she didn’t, so she could only inform Gaucho about what she assumed. “I believe that this season our fight will mostly be with the cold – Although I dare to say that we are actually in a better environment than the other herds here in the south.” She pondered on even further, remembered happenings and meetings and got conflicted whether or not it was of an importance. But Gaucho was worried, and she would tell him everything if that would make the strong almighty and ascended version of her Sultan come back. “I’ve seen the new King and Queen of the Edge and their selection. I think, along with winter, they will have a lot to think about with their current situation. The Moon Goddess – mortal now or not, will need her place there, too, still.” The Edge could fight that fate all they wanted, but it would only be kept waiting on their doorstep longer. At some point they had to face it. But if only it was so easy to see.
Before her the snow continued to fall in little cushions of frost and she continued to watch them, besides the fire now also the worry of her Sultan reflecting in her eyes. Her halo softly rejecting the darkness as the frown which, had been circling her eyes, weakened. She let out a light, soundless sigh, the air from her nose going up into a cloud – and disappear.
The fire? Gaucho could not remember the last time that any of his Diviner's had done anything other than cause him grief (though perhaps that thought was directed mostly towards Tandavi). Regardless, it had been seasons since any had reported the eternal fire doing anything other than well ... eternally burning. Was it really that something large was coming? Or did the prophecy have more to do with the mare before him? The half-haloed mare with her odd wings and odd markings - was it something within her that bade the fire to speak?
With rapt attention, the Wildfire hung on her every word.
Hearing about the winter was not so interesting - wasn't each winter somehow always worse than the last? And if ever there was a place to weather out a blizzard, it was the Throat. Gaucho was confident that frost would never touch his borders or his sands. Whatever claws Frostfall had, they would be turned away.
But it also told me about the herds. Something about making a decision of importance; a shared aim. But perhaps a decision that will make or break the relationships we have with some of our allies so far.
Abruptly Gaucho's antlered skull moved towards the sky as he shifted his position to stand taller. A decision? A shared aim? Was it to be the Moon Goddess again? Was she planning on moving against Helovia as a whole once more? Or would it be something more nefarious? His mind reeled to the blights that had taken Helovia in the past: the dopplegangers, the darkness, and the wraiths. Were any of those worse than the Moon Goddess and her treachery? Gaucho didn't know - putting such earthly plagues on a scale seemed impossible to him. And yet in those times the herds had lowered their animosities towards each other and worked together. Gaucho worked alongside the Basin during the height of the wraith invasion, and that had been when his hatred of them was at its strongest. Still, a shiver rattled through his bones at the prospect of yet another disaster befalling them.
Hadn't they endured enough?
Keeping his thoughts silent for now, Gaucho continued to listen to the wisdom of his diviner.
"Gaucho not know what to think of Edge ... Ophelia in Edge now too. Maybe that help us." If nothing else, at least we'll know what's coming he thought darkly with a sigh.
The lines of fatigue on his face seemed to dark in the firebright light of his wings, yet the Sultan continued to exude strength and determination. Whatever it was that Maren saw, whatever darkness and evil would come, the Throat would rise to the challenge. They always had.
"Thank you-" He said airily, his thoughts clearly distracted by what she had to say. His gaze was distant as he regarded the hazy and far off caves that twinkled in the distance. Snapping himself back into reality with a gentle shuffling of his wings, his allowed his stormy-gray gaze to fall once again the tiger-striped mare. "-for telling Gaucho. Diviners before Maren ... maybe they not see anything in the fire. Gaucho not usually hear. It good that you tell Gaucho. "
Her eyes shifted to his gaze for a short moment, before her wings draped themselves around her cheeks again, positioning its feathers in a way to keep the most warmth inside. Then her gaze wandered to the Diviners fire. Even in the shadowed world, the flames were a spring of hope and light. They were dancing in its typical fiery pace — as she imagined it had always done, and she wondered why someone would be too cold hearted to dance along with the flames, as it seemed to be asking all the time, or be too careless to step on its singing embers.
So she took in the comment as it was, not accidentally wanting to call everyone before her unfit for the job.
“Ophelia seemed… Nice,” she noted instead, watching a snowflake pass by. She was also afraid she would bore him with a speech filled with disapproval for the way the ‘election’ of the King and Queen had been held if she started talking about the Edge. Still, she had met Mauja; thought he might have some interesting edges, indeed. But the individual was still too vague and slippery to really get a grip on.
Even though all was stark and blinding, the world was in shadows. Cold crept through her bones like an earthworm and she shivered. Her mind lost a bit of its presence, but then again it was a day for pauses and silences. “I sparred with her once.” Her eyes fell on the metal pillars sticking out of the snow halfway — halfway done.
An old, stinging guilt crept into her mind as she watched the frost claiming the hardened metals and scattered materials. Ugh, it needed to leave. She hated guilt. The only reason she had it now was because the holiness of the project. Her golden eyes fell on the ground between her front hooves, pulled and pulled, until her crafters’ touch managed to drag a string of silver metal from the frozen ground. “I didn’t like the design, so I am renewing it,” she brought up as she shaped the little ball of liquid metal into a moderately sized Chapel. A size of which the build could be completed within a year. They would still be able to use the metal foundation they had build so far, but maybe they would need glass from the Edge. We cannot sit in shadows in the Church of Sol. “I will visit the Edge to seek out a glass-crafter for the windows and I will propose a trade if they wish for it,” she informed him in case he had something against it.
The miniature began to change as it continued to spin. “I am also wanting a lighthouse — There.”(giaghkkwhere?Idunno) She nodded and pointed with one wing to a corner close to the shore, which after she added in a serious whisper: “I don’t want to get shipwrecked.” But she would make up for her selfishness with a neat design.
After this she began focussing a suspiciously large amount of her attention to twisting, forming and detailing the metal lighthouse before her eyes. “I’m…” Then she paused for an indecisive moment and let the metals sink back into the ground. She needed no miniature for this. “— I’m also planning to build a rock-garden. At first I thought for myself… But I have found that some of us can be a bit… Hotheaded and… stubborn… at times.” For a short moment she met his eyes and pulled up one corner of her lips, perhaps apologetically.
Obviously, she was still putting her hoof down when it came to the bridge. She was awfully aware that he and his Sultana needed her wisdom and if neither one was going to directly ask her for guidance, then they should have expected her to help them achieve enlightenment in another way. They just needed a subtle push in the right directions, she believed. (And perhaps then he would come to realize that the bridge wasn’t such a good deal, after all.) But then she sighed. “But I can’t work with the frost, unfortunately, so it all has to wait until Birdsong arrives, if it will ever,” she shrugged, but she sounded regretful.
YOU DID NOT TAKE ANY MORE MILLION YEARS THAN ME, BUT I REPLIED. I felt like this was too good of an opportunity to let him know what she is planning to pass. :|
"SO BY THE WAY, IM GONNA MAKE THIS THIS AND THIS AND MAYBE THIS AND OH I WANT THIS."
^ these are the moments you notice she had the upbringing of a princess.
