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12-25-2014, 02:23 AM
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Ophelia the Forsaken
I'm a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm
they used to shout my name, now they whisper it Deimos' features changed almost imperceptibly, his mood and impression of her plan only truly confirmed by his single utterance. The pale princess smiled, the expression sweet if not for the words she had just spoken. Together, they agreed to pull back the veil of hypocrisy that fettered Helovia with lies, to reveal to the world that living with your own was not the same as prejudice, that the ousting of the unicorns long ago was only a small stone in a raging sea. When they were ready, with words, war and victory they would bring forth the ugly truths that lay deep beneath the earth in bones and blood of the fallen. Ophelia had every intention of standing as a balance between the war her father waged and the plight of the unicorns to live peacefully among their own. Theirs was a clan of blood and history, not open to outsiders of any kind, really. Suspicion was shown even to those with horns - and why not? The Basin had already lost so much. "Are there any enemies or alliances I need to be aware of? Any grudges?" she asked, eyes twinkling. She wanted to sneak into his mind and take a peak. Flashes of a conversation with a white stag mare, horrible things spoken. "I can see it in your mind, if you would rather..." she trailed, indicating only an inkling of the treacherous power she held. |
 Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done. Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning. |
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