Iron and Wine [Joining]

[OPEN] Iron and Wine [Joining]

Phaedra the Opulent Posts: 343

Deceased

Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.3 :: 6 Buff: NOVICE

Stella :: Secretary Bird :: None Aud

06-29-2014, 10:47 PM

And please remember me as in the dream
We had as rug burned babies
Among the fallen trees and fast asleep
Beside the lions and the ladies.

The world was beautiful and unforgiving; & Phaedra simply could not stand it a moment longer.

It was a blur, of both sound, sight, and emotion. The Gray. Ophelia's departure. The acrid taste of betrayal. The Invasion. Defeat. Promotion. Opulency. Retreat. Lakota's face. The Wraiths.

And then...well, and then nothing. The story ends. Phaedra runs away. She hides. She gives her title to Lakota, in a time when it is impossible to lead. What has become of her? Certainly she does not lead now. The Foothills has become something...else. The earth has rotted away, leaving falls where there used to be mountains. That was not the land she fought for...That was not where Stella had almost died, and her most precious secretes were buried. That land...wherever it was, was far away now. Was that how Archibald viewed the Foothills, when he ranked a mere General? Did he view it as some new bauble, and not the ancient place where he once ruled? Is that why Ophelia had left? Is that why...is that why...isthatwhy....

Thoughts trailed endlessly, but Phaedra could no longer take the sound of her own thoughts. Even Stella, her honest and faithful companion could not soothe the warring tides that sloshed again and again in her breast.

Tolio my darling cinnamon love. Where have you gone? Our daughters hate me, and you have fled. And Gaucho, what have you done with my unbleamished friend? Will she let me call her that, after so many seasons? And my Ru and Rae...what has become of you?

Normally, Phaedra buried such thoughts. It was not becoming of one such as She to dwell on her insecurities and faults. Phaedra, who had for so long used the sexism and easily-swayed minds of men against them, now alone and reckless. Phaedra, the golden girl, swayer of minds and stealer of hearts. Phaedra the Opulent.

Phaedra, the alone.

Phaedra, the absent.

Perhaps her wings would simply burn. Like Icarus...wasn't that the name? Hadn't his wings melted from their bones, causing his demise? Perhaps the same would happen to her. Perhaps the spots would fall from her wings - the stripes and the downy brown. Then the soft feathers, and finally, her sooty body would fall to the red sands below; swallowed up and forgotten. Were it fortold, Phaedra would still happily fly at this height. She would welcome her death. There was nothing more now. She hadn't the energy to do it again. To find a home. To fit in. To make friends. She just...couldn't.

And so, with Stella chattering angrily at her side, trying to rally her against the odds, Phaedra flew above the Throat.

The sun was sinking low, basking the area in a velvety violet. In the sky, Phaedra sparkled magnificently. Like a falling star, the golden-girl twirled haphazardly from the air. The gift from the Moon Goddess' bear - stars seemingly interwoven in her mane and tail - began to gleam and resonate in the dying light. She was beautiful and magnificent in her fall, as she cascaded towards the sands. At the last minute, her dainty hooves touched down, bracing the sooty legs against the inevitable crash landing that would have happened. Instead, the Opulent set off at a run, as if merely continuing her flight on earth. Let Gaucho come and stop me, she thought with a smirk, recalling back the oaf that Sohalia had fallen in love with. Would he be here to stop her? To throw her out? Ha! Let him try.

On and on the shimmering spark ran, until her lean legs brought her to the Oasis. Without a thought, Phaedra dipped her pink muzzle into the refreshing waters, drinking her fill. If she was to die her, at the hooves of a barbarian, her thirst would at least be quenched.