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05-22-2015, 03:51 PM
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Gull
Over the history of this land, perhaps it is true that many pilgrims have visited these shrines to beg for blessings and prove their merit to the Helovian gods. But you are not one of them. Certainly, a more devoted follower would be scandalized by your irreverence, but you don’t know any better. It is only a healthy respect for the creature’s flaming body and massive size that keeps your tongue in check, but even then you cannot suppress the feeling of exasperation when the booming voice asks you why you are worthy. Hadn’t you just explained how unfair things were? If worth had anything to do with it, you certainly didn’t understand why the unicorn scum here had been handed the keys to the kingdom. Luckily for you, the god moves on before you find the words to reply. “You believe that magical abilities will help you survive,” he restates neutrally. You nod impatiently. He continues, guessing that you’ve made some enemies. All right, you’ll give him that. “Why not seek a herd’s protection?” he asks, giving you—wait a second, that is definitely a death glare. You don’t know what you did, but instinctively you shrink back under his gaze. “Perhaps you could attempt fixing the error of your ways?” The error of…how did he know about that? There was no way anyone could…that had to be just a coincidence. “There are other ways to increase your chance of survival,” the god rumbles, stepping closer. There is no more room to back up, and his voice rings like thunder in your ears as he delivers his conclusion: why do you want magic above all else? But though the god is intimidating, your resolve is strong. To you, the answer is obvious, and you reply without hesitation. “Because the herds here are blind,” you tell him, eyes narrowing at the thought of the vipers in their midst. “They don’t know what’s to come, or they’re idiotic enough to believe that it never will.” Perhaps here, the land was still young, you muse, thinking of the equines that roamed Helovia. In the home you had fled, horses had been nothing but a distant memory, nearly mythological in nature, creatures that had existed once before those with horns had wiped them from the earth. But no one here seemed to understand that. “The unicorns are dangerous, but they live with them,” you go on, nearly beginning to growl as your anger increases. “They eat with them, call them brother and sister—“ you spit the last two words from your mouth with flaming eyes, “even bre—“ But no, here you catch yourself at the last second, remembering the creature’s own horns and wings, and for a moment you are silent, apprehensive. “Joining a herd wouldn’t help me survive,” you finally conclude, refolding ashy wings on your back. “It would only mean my neck gets slit that much sooner.” You would not tie your life to those of your enemies. “I want magic, or powers, or whatever this stuff is because even though this place is messed up, I want to stay here.” Having magic meant being able to protect yourself, to fight for the ones you loved, past and future. Having magic meant not feeling so powerless. "talk talk talk" |
Please do not tag Gull except for in opening posts or spars!
