I don't want to set the world on fire

[PRIVATE] I don't want to set the world on fire

Torleik the Bloodskald Posts: 354

Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 8.0 | dam: 7.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 11 HP: 66.5 | Buff: SWIFT

Irelyn :: Plain Griffin :: Molten Dagger RedGod

05-19-2016, 08:56 PM (This post was last modified: 05-19-2016, 08:56 PM by Torleik.)

Their time spent up north had been deeply refreshing to his soul, and quite pleasurable to both his heart and body. Now that it seemed Ophelia trusted him not to leave her broken and alone, her appetite for the more intimate intricacies of their relationship had reached a beautifully palatable and robust level. Torleik was certainly not complaining as his rib cage expanded to allow in the deep inhalation his nostrils sought to perform. The warming weather had crooned a siren's song to draw them south, but the Bloodskald had kept them to the east coast of the land much as he was able, avoiding the hotter parts of Helovia.

Now, the heat of the slowly drooping sun dissipating, it still managed to shimmer off the wet, salty ground of the Halcyon Flats as they came upon the borders of the still newer and somewhat unsettling land. Rumors had spread of this place driving others mad with the optical illusions it might play on the eyes and mind, trapping wanderers in a falsely constructed maze of their own doom. Torleik didn't find himself called to wander aimless and endless through the flat ground that reflected so perfectly the sky above. Instead, he felt as if...he was somehow in the sky, and that was what unsettled him so. These hooves were meant to stay on the ground; horses were not meant to fly.

Memories of seasons past bubbled to the surface of his brain, visions of the Sun God standing with Ophelia, away from the others; the feeling of hope and despair mingled at once; the mute acceptance of the truth that he was only mortal and, should Ophelia desire the love of a god, there was nothing this mortal could do; the dumbfounded joy and overwhelming love upon realizing the perfect blood angel that walked next to him had chosen him over an endless being who desired her... A wry smile quirked lightning-marked, scarred lips and he leaned to his right, taking in Ophelia's scent - more alluring as of late than it had somehow ever been before - and pressing his muzzle to her slender neck in an affectionate touch.

All of his failures, all of his mistakes in this place had led him to this woman, and she was everything he could ever want. The anger that had seen him burn like an arsonist's target some season or two ago had dimmed to low, barely kindled embers waiting for a worthwhile spark. Yes, the World's Edge had spat him out like chaff; yes, the Moon Goddess had shown him how little she valued the objects she used; yes, his pride had been wounded and his sense of purpose and self bruised and battered, but that was then. Now...now none of that seemed so important. The Bloodskald watched the sun dip even lower, the water that froze in little expanding circles around his hooves each time he stepped burnished orange and ruddy with the dying light, and felt peace.

He had ascended heights and fallen to craggy depths, and through it all, had learned and come out wiser, and stronger. Torleik could not complain - much, at least, he thought with a somewhat audible snort. He could still give an earful about the damned gods...but perhaps no longer the Sun God. The deity did seem to truly care for Ophelia, and he had not attempted to smite Torleik when the mortal had usurped his place in the blood angel's heart. If he honestly looked after Phi, then Torleik had no quarrel with him, and would offer his respect honestly and gratefully. Perhaps one day soon he might convince the god of the great, burning orb falling from the sky that he didn't deserve derision when he came with dutiful worship and that he only wished to be...in harmony with him, as much as he was able.

The Moon Goddess could choke on a giant, immortal phallus, but that was neither here, nor there. Torleik was done with her entirely; the only moon in his life was the pale one next to him, warm and loving and brilliant. He needed no other.

"talk talk talk"

"This winter breath, taste of death
Where iron meets flesh. we'll take it all"

Coding by Tamme with credits to Sevin | Art by Yewrezz

@Ophelia