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[O] Breathe, It's Over - Printable Version

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Breathe, It's Over - Destrier - 08-27-2013


we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>




Now that the fighting had stopped and adrenaline ceased production, I could feel the pain of my injuries increasing with every breath that I inhaled. There was no way of telling the extent of them, but if I had to guess, the stabs within my shoulder were clearly open and beginning to fester. The cool chill of the wind made them sting, increasing the pain tenfold and causing my teeth to grit together as I grimaced. Coupled with the injury to my left hock from Sage and the tears down that same left shoulder, I found myself unable to properly support a quarter of my weight.

I was bleeding, but I was alive, and that was all the reassurance I needed to know that I could carry on. At the forefront of my mind, my worries were settled on those I called my friends, my family; were they safe? Had they overcome their own foes such as I had? What of Lady Mirage, my rank brother Kaj, my twins? The twins... Laila.

A smudge of memory replayed before my eyes, of her locked in battle with a pale unicorn, eyes alight with the bright fire of a warrior. My chest bustled with pride at what I had seen from my dearest daughter, but now it fluttered with pure worry. Anxiety flooded my entire being, and for a moment, I seemed to forget about my own injuries.

"Laila!!" Baritone voice rang out, beckoning for my daughter to appear and assure me that she was alright. Picking my feet up, I intended to move into an expeditious trot, but it failed miserably. My left front shoulder sank at the first instance it struck the ground, but I was able to steady myself before I fell. Pulling the leg up, I gave a sharp grunt of pain, ears tipping backwards in mild annoyance. Instead, I worked my three other legs to carry myself, doing the same with the left front but snapping it upwards just as soon as it hit the ground.

Onward I went, searching for both my son and my daughter, as well as any others who might have fallen or escaped the invasion with minimal injury. Suli caught a ride on the slow winds, hovering just above me, violet gaze filled with worry. The little dragoness knew what had just happened to the Edge, but it was obvious that they had not fallen today, and now was the time to see how the others had fared. Rising higher into the skies and perching herself upon a branch, she let out a sorrowful dragonsong. As she did this, I again lifted my head, calling out for my children, my family, and praying that they were all safe.

"Speak."



image by blu | table code by tamme



RE: Breathe, It's Over - Hellena - 09-08-2013

Hellena
War.

How many times now had I seen its bloody claws rake at the doorstep of my home? My father led a mighty herd here, years ago, but he was a mortal, he fell from the throne he had built in a war much like this one. The lands fell to the mists, and after a time, the Goddess I had dedicated my life to had chosen a new liege, the FrostHeart. I had often wondered at her choice, but never did I question it. Gods work in mysterious ways, and while I did my best to understand them, I too was a mortal, gifted with longevity and wisdom, and sometimes foresight. But still, that did not mean I had the gall to question her actions. I knew not the part she played in leading the Qian to our borders, in encouraging them to build up and overthrow the herd that resided here. The Plague thought me blind to their ways, a simple Seer, a reader of mists. I saw their downfall, but I also saw their chance of success, the outcome had not been assured until the mists abandoned them and welcomed the Qian.

Now the Qian stands to fight once more, as old residents come to try and take back their old home. Others fight too, some who had fought on the side of the Qian those many moons ago, now fighting on the other side. I knew not the outcome of this battle until now, until the mists celebrated the continued residence of those whom they had grown used to. Did I rejoice? Perhaps, in my own way. There was no new faces to get used to, no new laws, no new leader to bow my head to and serve until the next one came along. A dragonsong permeated the atmosphere, and I did smile at the sound, even if it sung a sorrowful tune. It was a song unique as it was common here now, and its place was fitting for the end of yet another battle. I walked towards the borders that had been won, my violet eyes falling upon those who were injured, those who fled, my expression sympathetic. I wander towards the warrior who limped about calling for his daughter, tilting my crown to him and his dragon. There is little I can offer besides my presence.

"The Edge remains the Qian's." My words are quiet, as the mists dance around my frame - sometimes seeming to become a part of my frame as the breeze sways my silken tresses. "None of our own have fallen." I say, though it is not entirely true. I feel the whispers of a dragon struggling, the pain and suffering of those awaiting a healer's attentions. I attempt once more to offer some form of comfort to the WingLeader of our herd. "All will be well, Destrier."
in rumor we find truth and in life we find lies, death offers only a temporary respite.
credits



RE: Breathe, It's Over - Destrier - 09-10-2013


we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>




The glimpse of a pale form catches in my eye, and for a moment, I wondered if it was that of my son. However, this being possess a crystalline horn upon their brow, and I knew then that this was the Edge's loyal Seer, Hellena. My knowledge of the elder mare was little, for we had never spoken until now, but she held my respect nevertheless. She was a part of this land just as the mists were, a ghostly apparition that I might have thought the overseer of the Edge if not for my knowledge of the Goddess of the Moon.

Her words put my worries to rest, but I still yearn to see my family with my own eyes and assess their condition myself. I wanted to walk with my daughter as we sought a healer, together, congratulating her on a job well done and finding some way to laugh this whole thing off for now. However, drawing myself to a stand still, my bister eyes meet the mare's own violet ones. Briefly I wondered where the pale maiden had stood and watched the fight, surely wondering who would rise victorious from this battle. How many invasions like this had she seen in a lifetime that far surpassed my own? What would she be doing now if the Qian had fallen, and the intruders took over our beloved cliffsides?

I hush my thoughts.

"The news fills me with pride," I offer in response, flashing a brief, albeit pained smile towards the Seer. I knew now that my warriors had felt the force of an invasion, they were aware of what to expect, and would perhaps throw themselves into more rigorous training regiments. Once we had all recovered from our injuries, I would assure that the next time somebody came knocking at our door, we would all be more ready than before, myself included.

Shifting where I stood, I try and remove the brunt of my weight from my left foreleg in order to relieve the ache. Circling in the air, Suli descended from the currents and took perch upon my topline, ever mindful of my injuries as she tangled her talons into my mane. She looked on at Hellena, violet gaze curious as she listened silently. Releasing a gentle exhale, I speak again. "Do you know who it was that attacked, or if we have taken any prisoner? I could not pinpoint my opponents scent."

"Speak."



image by blu | table code by tamme



RE: Breathe, It's Over - Hellena - 09-13-2013

Hellena
I observe the stallion as he takes the information I proffer him, noting with quiet amusement that while his motion halts, his mind still races. I cannot read thoughts, I do not even pretend to read thoughts, but I am an excellent observer of emotion, of behaviour, of the subtle hints of anxiety and concern, of worry that was yet to be alleviated. He was also in pain, that much was glaringly obvious by the hunched, lopsided way he held himself, the way he favoured one leg slightly more than the other, the way his skin twitched even at the most subtle of gestures. I felt sympathy for him, and a strange sense of sorry, that I could do nothing to cure him of his sores. I suppose I was a selfish being, in that I did not form normal friendships and relationships with my herdmates - I was more of a caretaker for the lands, a groundskeeper, a worshipper and appreciator of the one who have bestowed her mists, winds and darkness upon the lands to provide us with a home. That I felt some kind of remorse for this stallion's situation was a new sensation to me, one I did not expect to feel. I suppose, I am but a mere mortal, despite my long life, prone to mortal feelings. This feeling of helplessness, however, was new to me. Normally I had a solution for everything, or else I was never posed with a problem that I could not see the answer to.

I wondered what I could do for my herdmate, to help his pain. My words seemed to have a positive effect upon him, and for that I was glad. He asked a question then, which gave hints to the worry that plagued him. I hoped I would be able to aid him in answering them. With my insight to the mists, and my familiarity with some of those who had fought in the invasion, I knew just what had unfolded on our borders. "It was the former inhabitants of this land who led the invasion, aided by the mercenaries of the Foothills." I spoke simply, supplying the facts with an air of surety. As for the matter of our prisoners... "With the distraction of the fighting, those who call themselves Assassins seemed to have disappeared." I did not know the exact method they had chosen to escape - I assume they used the preoccupation we had with defending the borders to their advantage. "As for any new prisoners, that would be up to our Leader to decide." I finish quietly, wondering just what our WeyrLeader intended on doing with the prisoners she had obtained from the Basin recently. I suspected she would not be concerned with the disappearance of the Assassins; their imprisonment had served it purpose for long enough.

"Do you wish for me to seek a healer?" I ask, offering to act as a messenger for perhaps the first time in my life. In thinking about it, however, I suppose I am merely a glorified messenger, a voice to the Goddess who watches over us above, a translator and communicator, a bridge between mortals and their immortal Gods.

It was a curious notion for me to ponder.
in rumor we find truth and in life we find lies, death offers only a temporary respite.
credits



RE: Breathe, It's Over - Destrier - 09-16-2013


we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>




Though I knew nothing more of my company than her name, I felt strangely comforted by her simple presence and the words that she had offered to me. She assured me that my warriors and the rest of the herd were all safe, and though I'd hardly consider them a loss, the Assassins were the only thing taken from us on this day. I could only hope that our display of power would keep them at bay and out of our borders for good.

In the year that I had called the World's Edge home, I had learned enough of its history to know that it was the ex-Edge, the unicorns of the Basin, that Hellena was speaking of. My eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the thought of the group I'd heard so much about, the ones who were supposedly behind the deaths of several of my herd mates. Blood boiled within my veins, running hot at the thought of revenge on those who had carried out such gruesome deeds, but with a deep breath I wished such feelings away. I was not a heartless killer and I never desired to become one, even if some souls deserved to be put down on the spot for what they had done to those I called family.

Meeting the violet gaze of the pale mare, my own eyes grew considerably softer than they had been just moments ago. The simple fact that everyone seemed to be alright was enough to put my mind at ease, and Hellena's simple offer of fetching a healer warmed my heart. For a brief moment, my mind wandered to the times of war in Vallhea in which everyone would pull together for the sake of the village. Oftentimes, it was a madhouse; healers scrambling to tend to everyone, families crying out at the loss of their loved ones, and warriors clambering about to help their wounded brethren. How different Vallhea was from the World's Edge.


"I do not need immediate attention," I spoke at last, voice much calmer than it had been minutes ago, "I'm sure there are others worse off than myself. Though... Perhaps you could join me in checking on the others? I would be interested in learning more of the Edge's former inhabitants, if you would not mind sharing."

"Speak."



image by blu | table code by tamme



RE: Breathe, It's Over - Laila - 09-17-2013


"One Day, I Shall Live By the Code of Honor."
----------------------------------------





It was taking forever for the young Acolyte to heed her father’s call; she stumbled about, almost sightlessly, her steps ginger as her weight rested upon her right side. In all truthfulness, it was not so bad; the pain was largely receding with time, and the blood had already stopped flowing from the slashes on her quarter, on her shoulder. All that truly remained was a dull, tugging sensation in the knit of her shoulder and quarters; it would heal fully, in time. Even her ear didn’t buzz with the pain of a thousand hornets. Instead, a vague sort of throbbing permeated the whole side of her head, but the most jarring sensation was the way the wind played about the flaps of her ears; tickling fissures they never tickled before, a constant reminder of the scar she had won from the battle. Hmph--won. As though the filly had achieved something.

Mostly, what was making her gait so slow and clumsy was not the pain of her injuries; it was a heavy weight that settled on her chest, increasing in pressure with every step, crushing her ribcage the closer she got to her father. It was the tears that welled inside her eyelids, tears that had yet to fall, but was very close to doing so; if Laila did so much as blink, thick rivers of the stuff would surely pour down her face. So she didn’t blink. She didn’t want the comfort of crying like a baby at her first fight, her first loss, because she knew if a single tear escaped into the world, she would start bawling, and she hadn’t earned that right.
If Laila was honest, she wouldn’t be so hard on herself; she had fought, hadn’t she? She had served her duty as a Protector for the herd, doing her absolute best to thwart the enemy from the herdland; it was her first fight, surely, but even so she had performed admirably. In fact, in the scheme of things, Laila had been successful. Her herd was still her own, and in no danger of being overrun with the ragged unicorns of the north; the war was won, and she would live as an Edge filly for another day.

But that wasn’t the rationale Laila saw before her eyes; all she knew was the defeat she met at the hooves of that white mare. That red V would haunt her always—it WAS haunting her this very moment, the rose-madder war-paint seeming to swim within the tears that she so desperately refused to let fall. When her father’s bulk became visible in the mists, Laila had to suppress a sob; indeed, she didn’t quite manage the feat. She only walked timidly towards her father with a gentle gait, barely noticing the gray lady who had already heeded his call.

“I-I’m here, Father,” she whispered, her voice choking despite her wishes to the contrary; she didn’t look at Destrier, knowing as soon as she looked into his gentle brown eyes, she would lose it. “I tried—I…I tried so h-hard and I…I c-couldn’t…” The sob was laced in the words, and Laila finally quit trying to explain. It was too painful, too shameful, and her ear seemed to throb in the rhythm of her embarrassment. What would he think about his daughter? Her ear?







RE: Breathe, It's Over - Hellena - 09-20-2013

Hellena
No sooner did the steed mention searching for others, and did we set off, did another come across our path. I was a single lass, never had I found one who I felt pulled towards sexually, never have I desired to reproduce - except perhaps with the creator of these lands, the one and only Goddess whom I worship. However, a descendant of hers walks the earth already, the Goddess choosing to take traditional routes to produce an heir to her legacy. It was not something I judged her for - rather, I hoped I would be able to find a suitable suitor to aid me in eventually passing on my own legacy in the future.

Speaking of legacies, it seems we have happened upon Destrier's own blood. I pause my motion to the young maiden, my form seemingly blending with the mists once again as they reunite. My violet eyes travel over the wounds the girl bears, seeing that while none are life threatening, they would certainly be painful. A small frown is apparent upon my brow as my form becomes solid once more, my bodice several strides away from the reuniting family, my gaze sympathetic and, almost, grateful. Why shouldn't I be pleased that those I was (albeit slowly) growing familiar with were going to linger here longer? That my home is indeed being protected by those who clearly love it, who are devoted to it, who find comfort within its misty walls and are more than ready to put their lives on the line to defend it. Perhaps I had it wrong - perhaps they only fought for themselves, for this familial bond they held between them.

Did I yearn for that bond from them?

Wasn't my bond with the lands enough?

"You fought bravely and well, child of the Edge." I spoke, my voice gentle but firm, insistent of the truth I felt had to be said. "Rest easy now, the danger has passed." I attempt to offer some comfort, though I know my words are likely just hollow, empty to these who only truly seek comfort from those near and dear to them, which were qualities I myself did not possess.
in rumor we find truth and in life we find lies, death offers only a temporary respite.
credits