[P] where there's smoke - Printable Version +- HELOVIA || The Way to the Sun (http://helovia.com) +-- Forum: Out of Character (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=1) +--- Forum: Archives (http://helovia.com/forumdisplay.php?fid=11) +--- Thread: [P] where there's smoke (/showthread.php?tid=22019) |
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where there's smoke - Volterra - 12-19-2015
@Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 12-19-2015
A hum drifted on the wind. Or perhaps it was a hymn, in a another language, another world, another lifetime. Perhaps the melodies that coloured the air with their delicate and unique brush were stories, histories, wise retellings of the past, only discernible to a few. Maybe they were tellings of things that were yet to unfold - who knew. But they existed, these soft yet pressing melodies, the wondrous harmonics that surely nothing real could actually sing - and yet, there strode the creature singing them, the belle who was not totally equine nor draconian, the hybrid who had only just found herself comfortable in this world - only to have her entire reality shifted recently. It still rattled her brain, and so the songs she sung were sometimes melancholic, other times reminiscent, but always, always telling some kind of story - it didn't matter that whomever happened to hear her singing them didn't understand or comprehend. What mattered was that she sung, her unique chords humming and purring from her chest, sometimes becoming louder, shaping into lyrics in tongues long forgotten. Sometimes the souls who flew with her would sing too, adding their colourful, unique chords into the orchestra, keeping tune and rhythm for they knew the very sound of the dragonmare's own soul.
It was her soul that brought them to life, her soul that allowed them to return here, however briefly (though she was able to recall familiar soul-lights back when she deigned to), her heart and her thoughts that they listened to as they relished in the land of the living again. Though they existed as but soul-lights, they were dragons all the same, and prone to cause havoc and chaos wherever they went. Their scattered thoughts would rush through her head, especially if they were souls she had not met before - often it would take half a day for the dragonmare to settle the excited creatures and find peace again within her own mind. So, suffice it to say, the dragonmare knew how Volterra felt. Though grief plagued her, she had expended as much energy in anger and rage as she longed to - the mare had taken to wing once more, to seek out another refuge from the memories of her past, and thoughts of what she must do in the future, however near or far away that future might be. The event of her mother's death had changed her, she knew, but she didn't know what those changes were - she was changed even before the DragonHeart's death, a lady grown beautiful, strong and confident. Now she wasn’t sure what she was - how was she supposed to behave? Was she meant to be sad? Angry? Mostly, she felt tired and weary, though a lifetime of hiding emotions meant even those were ignored. The dragonmare felt something like numb, and so she sung to try and convince herself to feel something again. It worked - to an extent. She saw him as she wandered, the once-colt who grew into a great hulking stallion, not far from the height, width and breadth of her own father (but never as great as he was, no), with more scars added to his hide and - ah yes, she recalled now - a new queen of his own. The scene she walked into was one perhaps only one akin with dragons would be able to read accurately, for she could pick up on the subtle body language of the companions easier than most (sometimes even better than their bonded's could). The grumpy, angry posture of the mature Red and the indifferent, royal attitude of the Gold caused nothing but amusement to the dragonmare who paused her steps and quietened (but did not stop) her humming melody, as she allowed her gaze to venture further into the grassy area and spy the ever-growing (but still lanky, coltish, young) stallion, Volterra. She was honestly pleased to see him - he had been the first to attend to her side when the death happened, he was attuned to dragons (more than most), and in her experience, he was a sweet boy with ideations of grandeur and magnificence. She remembered him speaking of growing strong and great when he was still shorter than she - from her observations alone, she could see he was well on his way there. The singing came to a conclusion, dragonsong and equinesong alike, as the mare strode forth into the strange lands that seemed to be rimmed in red, due to the great bloody waters that lingered about here. The stallion seemed well suited to the place, with his ruby eyes and dragon, he looked to be a part of it, even. A small smile graced her lips as she called a greeting to him, calling a second and third greeting to dragons who accompanied him as well, which was echoed by the soul-lights who followed her close by; a red and blue one joined her today, though they were wont to flicker in and out of existence seemingly at random. "Volterra," her tones crafted the name fondly, as she approached the familiar steed with confidence tempered with a shadow of hope and weariness. The dragonmare didn't truly know what to expect, nor what was expected of her - but surely, she had made at least one friend on this earth, and such expectations were forgiven if they were forgotten, or otherwise laughed away? @Volterra Amaris wouldn't stop writing herself ahh Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 12-21-2015
I'VE MISSED VOLMARIS THREADS @Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 12-21-2015
The girl's own golden gaze drifted upward, to watch the young queen take flight. Memories of Akaith's constant company when she was younger flooded her senses, the sound of her lullaby as she would encourage the fillies to sleep at night, the smell of her smoky, spiced breath as she would greet them, the feel of her scales as she would curl up in the bend of Amaris' nape on those nights where she would not lie with Semira or Mirage. The constant warmth - Amaris' own body ran at temperatures warmer than normal equine derivatives, but to a dragon, she would still seem cold in comparison. Akaith always had a fire burning within, and Amaris knew that to be true with all dragonkind - dragons were fire made flesh, after all.
So she watched the golden queen take wing, and felt a longing to see Akaith fly beside her - but it wouldn't happen, could never happen, because Akaith was dead, dead with her mother. A smile touched the girl's façade, despite it all, as she felt the friendly, curious advances of her red and blue spirits to the dragons present, felt their excitement and their joy at meeting others, watched as the blue danced with the gold and the red made to fly alongside Vérzés. They were mature when they passed, and so their glowing bodies were comparable in size to these living dragons. Amaris watched them with a fresh layer of tears glistening upon her eyes - she wondered if she would ever feel the true soul-link that a bond between dragon and equine. Her magic allowed her to call forth dragons from wherever they went when they left this realm, (and she had tried to call forth Akaith's own spirit, but to no avail), but it was a psuedo-bond, a fallacy, a temporary stadium for which the girl to learn and see and feel things that others cannot. With her gaze glistening with new tears unshed, she looked back to Volterra, purring warmly in response to the even deeper intonations of his words. A swell of affection rose in her breast for him, as she pressed forward with her muzzle extended, to touch him fondly upon the cheek, her warm breath blowing though her nostrils. "Better," she said softly, speaking against his cheek even as she swung her bodice around to stand more parallel to him rather than face to face. Truth be told, she still felt an unquenchable numbness, a severe lack of anything besides dismal hopelessness, but it would not serve to burden her friend with such things. Besides, maybe if she told others that she was feeling better, she would eventually begin to actually feel better.. Amaris was ever one to know what emotions were running through her, what emotions she should allow to define her and what ones to portray to those around her. The most frustrating thing was not knowing, or understanding that which she was feeling at this time - she simply could not define it, and so she felt lost and confused, adrift in a tarpit of despair and loneliness, stuck on an island with the wings of her emotions clipped - who knew how long it would take for her to find herself again, her love and her joy - she could pretend for now, pretend and maybe, just maybe she might even forget what having one's heart destroyed felt like. Idly, she wondered if this was why Mauja was the way he was. "You've grown again," she nudged him playfully with her shoulder, even as she lifted her nearest wing to lean upon the curve of his withers. Perhaps it was foolish of her to overlook the stallion he had become, to trust that he was still the innocent colt she had met (two years past) was still one and the same, full of questions and wonders and easily impressed by the dragonmare's simple existence. He stood taller than her now, and was growing bulkier, (though the lankiness of youth still lingered on him, and would for a few more years yet - such was the way of the heavier breeds), and yet she remembered only the young weanling, and then later a yearling, with a dragon bonded to his mind and soul. Now it would seem he had gained another - she wondered with some remnant of amusement, whether in another year she would find him bonded to three. "Are you well, Volterra?" @Volterra Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 12-24-2015
@Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 12-27-2015
By his side, she almost feels secure. By his side, she almost feels like she belongs somewhere, to someone. Like she might mean something more than an acquaintance to someone, like she might actually have a friend in someone who doesn't share her own blood. All these years I've lived, there's so much I haven't done or seen or people I haven't met.. It was a sad thought, it echoed through the numb confines of her mind, only to be replied to by one of the spirits who lingered with Volterra's dragons. It is not the amount of things you do, but rather the way you conduct yourself as you progress, the blue wanted to expand, but he was a wild dragon in his past life, and unfamiliar with communicating through a mind-link like that a bond would create - Amaris appreciated his sentiments though, and tried to agree with them in heart as she expressed her thanks to the dragon. The blue class was made for agility and speed, they were not usually the bulkiest of dragons, but were instead rather slim and sinewy - this spirit used his ethereal body in the most creative of ways, for he did not need to duck and weave between trees or branches, he could go straight through them (and the golden queen, for that matter). Amaris could not help but feed off the dragon's fun, excitable emotions and let them fill up her void, her numb and empty chasm of a mind that was left in the wake of her mother's death.
I keep doing that, he murmurs, his rich tones deeper, masculine, reminiscent of even her father's voice (though his had a different, slightly more draconic timbre to it). The dragonmare enjoys the closeness of him, of brushing, leaning her shoulder against his, which inevitably meant that side of her barrel touched his as well. There was no romance in her touch, no undertones of desire or ulterior motives - Amaris just wanted to be near someone she could trust. And for some reason, she trusted Volterra. He introduces his gold by name, and Amaris purrs it out with her musical, draconic accents, greeting the golden companion properly. "Vadir," she calls, approving of the name if only because it was a golden dragon who owns it. Amaris knew better than to judge a queen negatively in any way - she was a queen herself, after all. His next question surprised her somewhat, as she realises that not all who were bonded, especially one who shared his soul with only one other for so long, had the practice and expertise needed to handle multiple personalities all attempting to impress themselves upon the central being. Amaris didn't have Volterra's problem so much as an overwhelming sense of excitement and life from the souls she summoned - what he spoke of was something different, something more permanent - but perhaps something she might be able to help with all the same. "The souls I summon are usually too enthralled with being back in the living realm to worry too much about whether they like who they've been summoned with. And, most of the dragons I summon are mature, and past such juvenile behaviour. However, arguments do happen.." Her tiara is no longer right beside his as she speaks, her lips quivering in thought as she decides the best way to explain the many ways the bond could be bent between souls. "Somewhere within you, is your soul. And now, it has connections - it is shared, not just by one other, but by two. Understand that the bond can only be broken by death, and even then, should one of the bonded die, they usually carry their bonded into death as well." Or else they go mad trying to exist with half their soul missing, she thought, but did not vocalise the tragic thoughts. Her mother told her of the bond between she and Akaith, and Amaris knew through her own magic the kind of sensation it creates within. Amaris could sever her magic and thus sever the sensation of soul-bonds within herself - she had done so not too long ago, but she longed to forget that time, for it truly was like living with half of herself standing in death's doorway. "Otherwise the bond is nigh unbreakable - but it is pliable. You can hear their thoughts, or at least their basic feelings, yes?" She questioned, and awaited his answering nod. "Just as they can hear yours, perhaps stronger than you realise. But there is a way to guard yourself from their thoughts and restrict your own within yourself. It takes concentration, and practice, and it involves looking deep into yourself and coming to understand the way one's very soul works." Dragons were powerful beings in that this was largely how they communicated, how they transmitted thoughts and feelings and ideas. "You might have done it already, to an extent. When they go off hunting, and you can feel the physical distance spreading between you, you no longer feel everything they can, but you know your connection, your bond is still there, strong as ever." Her mother had told her as much when Amaris had asked what it feels like when Akaith went hunting alone. "It truly is up to them to decide whether they love or hate each other. Maybe as they mature they will come to appreciate each other more - or maybe the opposite will become true. But you can bend the bond between them the opposite way as well. Just as you can limit the bond, so too can you enforce your desires upon them in such a way that they believe it to be their own." It was a dangerous bit of information, something she spoke about with distaste curling her maw. "Sometimes such action is required for their own safety, but it is not a practise I would enter into lightly, for it involves completely erasing the dragon's own persona and will, and replacing it with your own, even if only for a moment.." she allowed her words to trail off, as she considered all she had spoken about. She wondered if she had actually answered his question, or if she had just spouted information he already knew. [ Sorry for the bit of PP with the nod - just wanted to keep the thread moving - let me know if it's not ok! ] @Volterra Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 12-28-2015
AMARIS Y U GIVE ME SO MUCH VOL MUSE @Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 01-05-2016
The dragongirl watched the stallion with interest, keen to know how he took her words, whether he found them dull and just a repetition of what he already knew, what he had already discovered, or if they was anything of value in what she spoke. Amaris could only speak from her psuedo-bonds that form whenever she summoned a soul from the other side. Not only that, but her mother's queen had often lingered with her, and though Amaris never held the bond that Mirage did with Akaith, their relationship was close, and many a lesson did she learn directly from the wizened dragon. For even though the dragongirl could only ever hear vague emotions from Akaith, she was part dragon, and was able to speak to directly to the spirits when she summoned them - and she wasn't entirely stupid either - she learned a great deal.
And yet, she was unbonded. The thought wasn't an uncommon one to trickle through the mare's crown. Amaris knew what she was - an equine, born of a line who bonded to a queen - and not just any queen, but the longest reigning, eldest bonded queen Helovia had ever seen. She was born of royalty - her mother had the qualities of a leader, proven when she raised the Qian from nothing and gave them a home and safehouse. She was a queen again, as her mother could slip into the form of a golden dragon, greater in size than all the companions Helovia had ever seen. She was a royal again, for the bronze scales that criss-crossed her father's hide. She was entirely a queen dragon - golden scales attested to that. And yet, and yet, no dragon had deigned to bond with her. Mother found Akaith's egg after she had fled the destruction of the Path, her birthlands… mother had lived many years before finding Akaith. And father never bonded - but he was surely dragon enough.. Dissatisfaction in her thoughts creased her brow into a frown for a moment, but the expression was soon chased away as she listened to Volterra speak. As he described his dragons she could not help but let her molten gaze drift to the gold and the red in turn, a half-smile touching her lips as she appreciated the sheer honesty with which he spoke. She even found herself leaning casually against him as she watched the interactions of the dragons. However, the small frown relighted upon her brow as he finished speaking. They were both strong dragons, and the fact that Vérzés was older would always give him some edge.. But.. "They will fight, at least once." She spoke sadly, hoping, wishing, praying that what she said wasn't true. "They are dragons… Wickedly smart but sinfully proud. They will fight, and hopefully.. That will be the end of their conflict. Vadir is too young still to truly take offence to Vérzés indifference, but she is a queen.. It will not take her long to grow, and realise just how powerful she is. She will expect him to appreciate her for what she is, and when he doesn't.. She will make him." Amaris did not think that they would fight to the death, but there was a good chance it would be close. And Volterra.. He would be torn apart by their conflict, unable to choose a side as his bond pulled him both ways. He would feel each bite, each burn, each offense as if it were upon his own body, only worse, for it would be upon his very soul. Amaris turned to him suddenly then, imploring him with her bright golden eyes, hoping she pressed understanding onto him. "You must distance yourself from them, you must quieten the bond at that time, or else you might.. I worry that your soul could be at risk." Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart @Volterra RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 01-16-2016
@Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 01-17-2016
Usually quite perceptive, the mare is oblivious to the effect she has on the stallion. Her 'feminine wiles' as it were, were a complete accident, a happy happenstance to her being what she was and growing into herself more these recent months. Amaris had just left the awkward, lanky phase of her growth; she was a mare, and her dragonsblood made her a queen too - she was the epitome of femininity, but really she just felt like herself, and nothing more.
She could only imagine what Volterra felt when she spoke so brashly about his dragons, about their natures and about the fight that would undoubtedly occur between them - and the most likely outcome of that fight. Amaris did not know a queen who ever bowed to another, except perhaps when rising to mate and testing all those around her, and allowing the male who proved himself to dominate her for that moment. Even then, was it domination if she was allowing it? Queens were known to choose who they allowed - would Vadir choose Vérzés when the time came? For the first time, Amaris became aware of just how much Volterra had grown, just how masculine he had become. If she were human, her skin would had flushed red, a blush; as it was, she felt heat rise and rush through her, felt his presence become suddenly more obvious, more pressing, more… Amaris was a queen dragon. Queen dragons rise to mate, they choose… Stop, she told herself abruptly, turning her attention to the dragons once more, to the grimace that flickered across Volterra's face, the pain he must've felt in response to her pointing out what must happen between his dragon. The dragonmare watched as the gold came away from her frivolity with her spirit friend, watched as Vérzés' actions seemed tense - she could only wonder at what they were pushing upon Volterra through the bond they shared. When he winced, she touched her maw to his cheek, again wondering at its warmth, its nearness - stop, she said again to herself - praying only for him not feel pain or suffering through something she might have said or guessed at. He spoke of greed, and she had to wonder - he had always been curious as a youth, she recalled when she first met him, his greed for knowledge, his yearning for it, it had impassioned him, filled him with purpose and direction. Then when she had met him again, he had his dragon, the vicious red who had bowed and crooned to Amaris when she had said hello - and he had grown then, stronger, taller, but still seeking something, seeking what? And now, she sees him again, and he had a gold to share his mind with, a golden dragon, a queen… What else could he be filled with greed for? "Dragons existed before the Gods," Amaris said quietly, for when travelling to her father's realm she had met dragons more ancient than Helovia itself, and so she spoke what she knew to be the truth. "Dragons will be dragons; they both saw you as their bondmate and that is why they are bonded to you. These things do not happen as punishment… if anything, it is a lesson, a test of your mettle, one that you cannot fail, because if you do…" If you do, you would not be worthy of their bonds. She did not speak the last words openly, but her gaze was grave, her lips quivering with pent up feelings that she could not process fast enough to recognise. As Volterra's crown dipped in disappointment, Amaris wanted to hold him, to comfort him and press herself against him. As it was, she opened her wing nearest to him and let it hand over his body, she moved her tail in a great scooping motion to that it would encircle him, and she proffered a gentle caress of her muzzle against his nape. In her mind, he was two beings: still the colt she had met, young and inquisitive with potential to boot, and a stallion grown and met many of his dreams, who was still growing but had fulfilled so many things he had set out to do. He was still young, but his height and voice and even the fact that he was bonded, not to one but two dragons kept echoing in her mind as important, as significant and, and… "Thank you, for coming when.. She was my mother." Amaris did what she could to fill in the silence, she allowed his change of subject to continue, though the subject they had turned to was a bit more painful for her, more real and something she had been busily avoiding. She suffered through it though, for his sake, though she wouldn't have been able to explain why she was willing to dredge up those raw feelings for him had someone thought to question her. @Volterra Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 01-21-2016
@Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 01-22-2016
The words that come from his lips in their dry, defeated tones almost break her. She wants to comfort him, to throw herself at him, to find his happiness again and let him live it, she wants to distract him and protect him from the hurt that she feared was coming. But Amaris didn't know how to do any of that, so she simply leaned into him as he leaned into her embrace, enjoying the closeness and hoping that he found some comfort in her presence as well. He was hardly fleeing from her touch, so she could only guess that meant he was at the very least accepting of her proffered caresses, even if he only showed it by subtly leaning closer to her. It was enough for her to feel like she was giving something to him, at least, though she knew his thoughts would still be churning over the fears she had instilled on him - fears that he had come to her with, seeking relief, which she had taken and probably made worse, more real.
Amaris vowed to be by his side should her fear of his dragons waging war against each other ever come to fruition. That much, at least, she could do for him. Talk then turns to that of her mother, the death of a queen - by rank and bond - and Amaris tries to recall just how much she had told Volterra of her bloodlines, that evening in the Deep Forest when she had first met him. She remembered the story of her father's birth, she remembered taunting and teasing him - the matter of who her mother was had never truly been defined, from her memory. She wondered what harm there was in telling him everything now, what harm could be caused by reliving the memory of the DragonHeart over and over again? Though tears still glistened behind her eyes, they didn't fall - Amaris had surely cried enough to see her mother pass into whatever existed on that other side on a river of her saline drops (yet she knew she would keep crying too, maybe just not today). "I once told you the story of my father," she began softly, letting the memory of meeting the colt (who had been so much smaller back then, but with concerns and wants equally huge to what he had now) crinkle the corner of her eyes in a fond smirk at the memory. "My mother.. She was known as the DragonHeart to those who followed her. The raised her up and proclaimed her their queen - she called them the Qian, for they were those beings whose unknown potential was not yet reached, those who did most things by the light of the moon - she led them to find their home with the strength of her allies behind her. Mirage the DragonHeart, they all called her, she led them to a battle that saw the unicorns who know live in the farthest reaches of the North extradited from the World's Edge." Amaris allowed her voice to show the distaste for war she held within her. The dragongirl hated violence, despite understanding its necessity in some cases.. Still, whenever she thought back on the histories, she wondered what would have happened if the Qian had simply asked rather than demanded permission to live within the folds of the Edge; they could have combined their strength with the unicorns there at the time, and risen up to be the most formidable force Helovia had ever seen; alas, it was not meant to be, for that definitely was not what happened. "My mother.. wanted peace, but since she had set the wheels of war into motion, that was all that she seemed to attract. With her at the helm, the Qian resisted whatever attempts were made against it. Then, the wraiths came, and Mirage sent me away with my father and sister, to his homeland, while she.. she tried to face the wraiths herself, she entered the ruined lands, and when I came back to Helovia, she wasn't here anymore." A break in her story, a hesitation. The more she spoke, the closer she came to the part where.. it all ended. "Not too long ago, the herd of the World's Edge, the one my mother left behind, abandoned the lands for the distaste they held for the Goddess of the Moon's actions against the lands. A call for potential leaders to step forth was raised, and I went.. My mother had been raised by the Goddess, but for what reason?" Amaris still asked this question, for Mirage had no urge to lead a herd again, despite that potentially being the Goddess' purpose for preserving her life all that time. The dragongirl ploughed onwards: "The DragonHeart wanted no more leadership, it was as if the Goddess had raised her just to let her die of her own natural causes… Akaith called to me that morning, and that was why I was able to, to.. say goodbye to her." Finally, the girl let the silence fall, let her friend digest her words even as she considered them all over again. Still, tears did not fall, though they were close behind her eyes, as she remembered once more, the great wonder that was her mother; Mirage the DragonHeart. @Volterra Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 01-30-2016 omg I was re-reading their first thread, can you believe it happened exactly a year ago o.0 @Amaris
RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 01-31-2016
Talking so openly, revealing so much, was a new concept to Amaris. The abnormality of it caused discomfort within her - some, she knew, found speaking of their pasts, their problems, relieving, therapeutic. Amaris only found it mildly revealing, like she had just admitted a great crime and her fate was now left to the decision of the masses - only, her crime was her heritage and the masses was Volterra, the now-grown colt she had met seasons ago and dazzled with her draconic whims and mysteries. She wondered what he made of her tale, what he had heard of the Qian - was the group, the family, the ideals they stood for, still remembered across the ages? Or did their message, their meaning, fade or warp over time, had it been mutated into some bastard memory of a war tyrant stealing lands, taking children, holding hostages until she had her way?
Mirage had meant well, she had sought guidance from the patron Goddess who had led her across the realms of Loorien, and that deity had told her how to protect her people - she had offered her own herdland, even though it already contained a host of loyal unicorns. The Moon Goddess had encouraged her to build her alliances, she had blessed them even while they were Outcast so that they might survive the great drought the jealous Sun God had cast upon the land. Amaris remembered the tales as well as if she had lived them - it was incredible to think that her mother and father had lived them. Volterra mentioned what he had heard of the Qian in his travels, and it saddened Amaris' heart. It was meant to be a peace banner, she thought with sorrow in her mind and a small frown upon her brow, only peace in this realm sometimes looks an awful lot like war. She is distracted then, by the gentle, yet firm, reassuring embrace of the stallion. The dragonmare melts beneath it, leaning happily into him, curving her nape and bowing her tiara so that her face hid against his warm flesh. To his words, she purred a deep and throaty "mmm," a draconic lull, a contented melody. She knows not how long the embrace lasts, how much time passes between one breath, one moment, and the next? What is a moment - what is life - but merely a collection of breathes, of moments, or memories all lined up side by side, waiting for one to look back and select what to remember, what to learn from and what to hold dear (and what to fear). Then, the moment is shattered, it is ruined, a precious relic thrown against the hard ground to scatter in a million pieces, only a memory, a recollection, a breath stolen forever. Because he asked it, that question she had hidden from herself, that challenge, that idea that she had never wanted to see, to recognise as viable. It was too much, too much, the dragongirl cringed away from him then, she pulled her form away from his warmth, tucked her wings in close to her own sides and twitched her long tail idly behind her. Her ears, whilst not pinned down, faced backwards, her expression was relatively vacant compared to the previous flux of emotions that had crossed it. Volterra had said something that hadn't offended her exactly, but it certainly had put her on edge. "The only thing I wish to build is a land of peace and prosperity for all." Amaris spoke quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper, but still firm, spoken without hesitation, without tremor or stutter. "The DragonHeart meant the Qian to be the foundations of just that, yet she wrote their history in blood, and received only that in return." Her voice began to thicken with emotion, her thoughts on the Qian becoming clearer with each passing moment. "The Qian will stay resting where my mother burned, never to rise again." Her words had a succinct finality to them, her posture was stiff as she looked over to the crimson waterfalls that were a constant thrum in the background of their shattered moment. Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart @Volterra RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 01-31-2016
@Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 02-05-2016
I admire that, he said, and Amaris had to wonder just what was so worthy of admiration? When they were younger, he admired her for what she was, the dragonscales upon her hide, the queenly status she had played with, the stories of her conception and birth. What was it that held his admiration now? That she would walk away from the 'legacy' of her mother's life and live for herself?
Amaris wondered at how little they knew of each other. She remembered meeting him for the second time, at the Veins, remembered him speaking of what little family he had, a sister and a mother. She remembered connecting the dots of the puzzle, deciphering that his mother had been taken by her then-leader - the information had laid dormant within all this time. She hadn't done anything about the information back then, and what was there to do about it now? Volterra was son of the World-Eater, son of the cretin, the demon-woman who had tormented all of Helovia. She wonders, as he made a note of admiration towards her decision to write her own history, whether he intended on doing the same - or did he intend on following in the footsteps of his mother, and becoming wholly hated, despised, conspired against to capture and keep imprisoned until he either fled the lands or died? All these thoughts and more rolled through her cranium, even as the dragons attended them more closely again - Amaris' spirit friends seemed to give her warmth in the stallion's absence by her side. She did not feel a pull back to his side, no matter how much she had enjoyed it when she had been there - somehow, she knew that while their futures would likely involve them crossing paths (however frequently or infrequently), they were meant for different things. Or, maybe they were the same after all, and Amaris was in denial over her underlying queenly nature. What will you do next? The question hung in the air, and the dragonmare allowed the silence to fill in the time between it and her reply as she considered it. It wasn't really something she had to think about as far as the answer went, more, how to say it. "I will live, and explore the realm, with my cousin. I may seek out the comforts of a herd again at some stage.. I will see where the world takes me." It was a simple reply, given with care and yet coloured by the draconic lilt that sometimes entered her words. She wondered if he would still hold his admiration for her after her words, and turned her tiara towards him, golden eyes lit up with curiosity, brow raised as she voiced a query back to him. It was time she learned more about her friend, the once-colt-now-stallion, who certainly had the potential of the world before him. "And you, Volterra? What are your goals for this life we live?" Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart @Volterra RE: where there's smoke - Volterra - 02-13-2016
@Amaris RE: where there's smoke - Amaris - 02-17-2016
The dragonmare was keen to learn more about the titan, though she only showed her interest through her quiet questioning and politely interested gaze. She was oblivious to the heat, the desire, that continued to run rampart through the stallion - her own had been hard-hitting, fleeting, fast - she had almost forgotten its existence, such was the nature of the beast, the dragon, the queen. Lust was momentary - it would have to be an emotion far more permanent, more prominent, for her to cling willingly to the carnal urges her body attempted to orchestrate earlier. As it was, she shed them like a second skin, forgotten and discarded without so much as a care or thought that they might still exist in the stallion - heck, she had been oblivious to his affections, subtle as they were, during the passionate snuggle in any case.
He spoke, and she wondered what he wasn't telling her. Amaris knew who he was, she knew what blood dribbled through his veins, and she could not help but wonder if it influenced him in ways he might not have even been aware of. The dragonmare wore her bloodlines upon her very hide - golden scales spoke of queenliness, of royalty - she was not oblivious to the pressure the history of one's family could have on one's own future. How much had Volterra's family, his mother, the World-Eater, influenced the path he was carving for himself? She recalled the fervour, the passion and love with which he had spoken of her - she wondered if ruling was his ideal or Confutatis'. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter - what mattered was Volterra, and how he chose to chisel out this path he had laid for himself, what tools he decided to use - would he chip away at it with hammer and hook, would he tear down and rebuild on the foundations of another kingdom, would he seek help on his journey to greatness and strength? All these questions and more, Amaris wanted to ask, to know the answers to - and at the same time, she was afraid to ask them, to know them, for what if his answers revealed her deepest fears? What if he was the direct counter to her desire for a better world for all? Did he seek to build his dream for all? Or just for himself, and his people - the people he approved of? Would she be one of them? It was far too many questions, too many possibilities, too many variables, and all of them weighed down on the dragonmare, all of them wished to be voiced and yet her lips would not craft them. As the companions descended from their play and frivolity, Amaris was brought back to the present moment, the changing tide of conversation and topic was a welcome turn. Food, was a much simpler idea to linger on than the troubles that irked her, and she clung to it with the desperation of a creature desiring nothing more than to flee the current situation. She nodded, caramel locks waving against her nape, elongated tail sweeping as she followed the titan to his 'spot', and put her efforts towards enjoying what was left of the day in companionable silence with him, as they ate, and lived, before giving her soft farewells (and a light brush of maw against cheek), as she departed the loam for whatever may await her. Amaris drákos istoría on deviantart @Volterra Amaris out~ <3 |