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04-14-2014, 01:25 AM
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Ophelia the Forsaken
Ophelia had been unable to return by some strange force that she could not explain. A sickness had overcome her, but it had been much different than the darkness. She had been in the north when it hit, a strong feeling of being overwhelmed and feverish. Nights had gone by when she did not know what day it was, a strange wan light hovering over her memories. Fluid had poured from her nose for nearly a week as Tinek had brought her more and more water, worried that his bond mate would die. The fever had broken, and she regained her strength slowly, never wanting to go through that horrible experience again. So, time had moved more slowly for the Forsaken than it ever had before. Not being conscious of how many weeks had gone by was a novelty, as her eidetic memory never allowed her to forget a single atom of experience. Sickness, it seemed, was allowed to trump her memory, if only for a short time, and she bitterly thought that she would not mind being sick again if only for the reprieve from the burden on her mind. The last conversation she remembered clearly was Midas telling her that the Foothills and the Basin had invaded the Throat and the Edge. An antlered pegasus had nearly killed her and informed her that Mauja had disappeared into the ocean. Were all of these things connected? Did Ktulu fight? How could she betray Midas? Was she ultimately responsible? Did she set up the contract with the Basin only to leave before its culmination set its war on her friends? Too many questions. The pale princess walked with utmost grace, cloven hooves carrying her easily across the land to the fiery center. She had lost weight in her sickness, making her already slender form appear almost gaunt, but her shimmering birdsong coat and lively, vibrant eyes told a different story about her health. Weight and strength would return in time. The alabaster strands of her mane and tail had grown long and thick, the ends a bloody, dark red, veiling the strange, dual colored blue and red gaze. "Dragon." Tinek said in her mind, his silver form gaining more altitude to try to see what was going on. The frosty beast focused in on two equines and a unicorn on the ground, and he shoved the pictures into Ophelia's head. Phi blinked, shocked at the images Tinek sent her. Father? Who else bore the black dun pelt with red accent other than the Valiant himself. The pale princess broken quickly into a canter, long, slender legs covering ground swiftly and coming up carefully on a strange scene. Immediately, she cast her blue and red gaze to the largest stallion present, one with feathers on his hooves, body thick and strong, much taller than she was and she was not short. Her expression was suspicious, but she tore her eyes away and moved to her father, lowering her nose and touching him gently, confused. "Father...?" she questioned, her chime-like tones very gently. When he seemed to be all right, she turned to the bright, sunny yearling. The moon marking across her face, all lovely and white, reminded her of another, Rishima. Meeting the dark moon mare had been long ago, but the memory was clear as day in her mind. "What happened?" she asked, looking between the two of them, brows furrowed over her vibrant eyes. Tinek, avoiding the green dragon, descended carefully, landing on her back. He was fully grown, heavier and thicker than before, and he eyed the situation carefully through bright, crimson orbs. |
 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. |
Please tag me in every response!
