the Rift


[PRIVATE] Flying High

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
#1


LACE</style>
before the sun sets
GLORY
</style>


His head had been buzzing with ideas, plans and squirming details ever since he parted with Dröm. Her idea of forming a group of their own was incredible. Why had he never thought of it himself? Every time he had joined a group or system before it had been because he was drawn in by others, and every time he had served faithfully until the collar became too tight, the leash too short. Whether he would fair any better while carrying the weight of responsibility on his own shoulders was impossible to say. His reign at the Edge had been cut short, after all, and what he had seen in himself there had not inspired him to seek power again.

But this idea was like a burning fever within him, a blazing beacon on a horizon that had been only dark and obscure until now. This time Lace had the chance to shape the group after his own ideals, to prune and cultivate where he saw fit, all in the name of creating a better world. Because truth be told, he was tired of fighting battles that never ended. He was sick of listening to the quibble of heard leaders about who was loyal to who and which god that deserved to be honored. He no longer cared for the illusion of glory gained on the battlefield and he never wanted to see another victim of war smile with empty eyes at him again.

Lace wanted something better, something bigger than the temporary peace each new leader promised. He had never seen it last; there was always something getting in the way, some slight or event that made war seem like a tempting solution. What was it with kings and risking their own necks? As soon as they ended up on a throne it seemed that every stallion lost their balls, and every mare lost both spine and nerve once the crown landed on their heads. The exceptions were so painstakingly few that they stood out in his mind like shining beacons... even though he personally would prefer that one or two of them kicked the bucket rather soon.

No, what Helovia needed was a uniting force, one that stood outside and above the every day life of the herds. One that didn't hesitate to meddle, one that remained strong and unyielding, that made a difference... Oh, creating it would be incredibly hard, and he knew it would be a struggle to even get it started. But Lace had seen the Qian grow and rise to power, he had watched Mirage work from up close, and he believed that he had some understanding of how to go about this...

"But what we need most is a gathering point" he said aloud to Fajira as he paved way through the underbrush. Her tail over the round curve of his hip and tickled the right flank, but he was too wrapped up in planning to notice and she was finishing off the last remnants of a luncheon fish, too intent on scraping off the last threads of white flesh to reply.

"We need a hideout... or rather a headquarter. There probably won't be a lot of us to begin with, so we can't just run around blindly to look for one another. Somewhere fairly central..."

He ducked beneath the branches of a willow tree, its low hanging boughs shimmering with fresh greenery, and as he straightened up a flash of light hit his eyes and made him blink. Squinting through the clear daylight he recognized the ancient structure of the Rotunda. The building looked just the same as it had done the last time he passed by; solid pillars placed evenly around a circular foundation, whole and sturdy if perhaps a little weather worn after who knew how many years in the open. The dome shaped stained glass roof glittered under the sun and sent a shower of multicolored light onto the floor, as though to remind everyone who entered that unity could be achieved even in diversity, and survive through the ages...

"Huh. You know, this place might be just perfect" he told the dragon. "There's even roses growing around the thing... The only thing more perfect would be a neutral herd land."

"Long way to go before that" Fajira noted serenely, and discarded the last bit of clean picked fish bone onto the ground.

Lace laughed, too exalted with this latest realization to admonish her for littering their new locale.

CREDITS: Schwartze | venomxbaby | 116802


@Miykael
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Messages In This Thread
Flying High - by Lace - 09-09-2015, 07:23 PM
RE: Flying High - by Miykael - 09-09-2015, 11:27 PM
RE: Flying High - by Lace - 09-10-2015, 12:08 AM
RE: Flying High - by Miykael - 09-21-2015, 02:02 AM

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