null and void [open]

the Rift

null and void [open]

Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459

Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5

Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE

Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan

#13

09-10-2012, 08:06 AM

LACE

Who, in his mind,
has not probed the dark water?

"The gods didn't seem to interested last time I asked" he said with a faint smile, revealing that he actually had tried to seek their guidance. Why hide it, now that he had decided to open up to her?

Perhaps it was better this way, the stallion mused as he tried to gather his thoughts and settle down the upset feelings that still swirled within. It wasn't the opinion of the gods he fear anyway, but rather that of the ones he had to meet and live with when walking through life. It wasn't the gods he had hurt by turning against them, and it wasn't their forgiveness he really wanted. Actually, to be perfectly honest he wasn't sure of whether Mirage was the right one either. But the appearance of the mare was so similar to that of Aera that he could almost pretend it was her.

Her promise sealed the last path of escape, and with a deep breath Lace looked back into her eyes, gold meeting gold in the closest he could manage to bear his soul to her. They weren't connected like they were to their dragons and he couldn't simply lead her down the path of his memories to reveal what had happened, but he could at the very least make sure that she knew he wasn't hiding anything. The burden he had placed on her was heavy enough as it was.

"I was raised to be a warrior" he began, the voice thoughtful and as low as he could allow it to be for the roaring storm. "It wasn't that I didn't have other options, it just wasn't ever discussed and I never thought about complaining. We were a herd in war, but it was so large and held so much ground that the youngsters rarely, if ever came in contact with the ugly sides of it. I was taught from foalhood to embrace the glory of it; strength to protect myself and other, loyalty to your commander, honor and discipline. To remain true to myself and others, no matter what I was faced with. Even after my first contact with actual battle I kept to the codex, because I believed in it." He felt how Fajira came padding over the sand and curled up around his leg, but didn't move to look at her. He wasn't mad at what she had done, it just wasn't the time to do anything other than talk, and keep his focus directed at the shadow mare.

"I was in my third year when I came to Isilme. After roaming around on my own for a while I was invited to join the herd that resided on the Moonlit Tides, at that time led by Aera. I accepted, and was grated the position as warrior, entrusted with the protection of the herd. It was a good time. I befriended many horses, I was entrusted with Fajira's egg, I sparred with legendary warriors... I think I might even have been happy."

He paused to breathe. A look of longing flickered across the masked face as he remembered the times in his past. Then a shadow was thrown his way by the crackling flame, and the faint smile faded from his lips.

"I don't know what it was that came over me that night" he said, sadness and confusion mingled honesty shining from his eyes when he focused on Mirage. "It was as if a haze lowered over my mind, I could see and hear, but I couldn't control my own actions. I watched myself seek out Querida, the ruling lead of the Woodlands, and strike a deal with her. A place in her herd and warriors rank, for the location of Aera. Apparently there was strife between them, and she gladly accepted my offer." He swallowed hard, feeling a lump of disgust forming in the throat as he revealed his crime.

"So I asked Aera to take a walk with me, I led her to the border of the Tides, where the LightningQueen was waiting. And then I left, leaving her to defend herself. When the war over the Tides began I fought on the side of the invaders; I lost my battle, and was healed by someone from the opposing side for reasons I cannot comprehend, and then I.." He could have kept talking forever. It didn't even have anything to do with the crime, but something urged him to just keep telling the leader of the Qian about everything that had happened between the battle and their meeting. How he had removed himself from the herd in the Woodlands and quietly just left Isilme without being missed. How he and Fajira roamed without a goal as his guilt consumed him, how he joined up with bands of mercenaries and fought in war after pointless war, somehow always managing to stay alive. He had learned to hold the depression down, sealed it off with promises to never let anything like that happen again; he had taught himself to smile even when he wasn't happy and to talk even if his tongue tasted bitter of the things left unsaid. That's how he was when he met her in the Threshold not long ago. That was when the mask cracked, when the very mention of Isilme had brought everything back at double force, until he almost couldn't breathe from the weight of his guilty conscience.

It was the soft warble of the White that finally made him grow silent. At some point she had managed up on his back; now he could feel her small paws pat his withers soothingly and her mind wrap around his, giving him support and gently hushing him. He blinked slowly, suddenly exhausted at the effort of holding his head up; he wanted to lie down in the sand, let the smoldering remnants of the fire warm his chilled skin and sink into a deep sleep. But he couldn't. Not yet, because Mirage had yet to speak. He watched her as the silence thickened around them, and realized that the storm slowly was beginning to loose its edge. The wind still whipped up the waves and beat them to the shore, but the thunder and the lightnings seemed to be heading further in towards land. He could breathe more easily now, and within the quiet embrace of his dragon the stallion felt how the first cold drops of rain fell onto his back. Funny, how much he felt like weeping along with the dark sky.

""

Credits