It hadn't taken long for him to make up his mind, to spread his dusted wings and take to the skies. For the past few days he had rolled thoughts and idea's through his mind, let them wash against his shores as they did on the sandy beaches he called home. Magic was a wonderful, dangerous, magnificent thing he had come to know — it could be both wild and predictable, malicious and benevolent. The imagination was only the limitation to what could be achieved. It was this knowledge, and the thirst to understand and attain more of this unfathomable well of power and understanding, which drew the dragon-child from the throat with an iron goal.
Tyrath would go to the fabled veins, and ask the Gods to be found worthy to harness more of their blessings.

Going alone, however, wasn't exactly in his agenda. Part of him wished Aithniel would of accompanied him to the Veins, after all, she had missed most of his firsts in his life — some part of him still longed for that maternal bond, to see her chest swell with pride as others had whenever he had accomplished something. His father, siblings and Sikeax had instead filled the roles as he had gone from a gangly newborn to a capable colt. She was a ghost in the fog, whenever Tyrath thought he had glimpsed her and her Griffin companion on the winds, it had been no more than a trick of the sun, or another winged equine with their companion coming in to roost. It twisted somewhere in his chest, a thorny, gloomy patch within his heart where his mother should of had a shrine. With a snort, he pressed the thoughts from his mind and instead focused on finding his father and his Dragon's.


It hadn't taken long to find him, and even shorter to request that his Apa accompany him to the veins for his first meeting with Gods. No doubt his father had his own reasons, other than making sure his Son was escorted safely to the veins, Tyrath was no longer days old with wolves wanted to lap the marrow from his splintered bones. This was a momentous occasion, where the boy would begin his own quest to achieve greater understanding of magic and the world around himself, he would gaze upon the face of a true God and find himself humbled and awed by the magnitude of their presence. They were but humble mortals after all, a speck of stand in the great hourglass of time, just another wave coming in from the vast ocean. The anticipation which vibrated off of his body no doubt could be felt by all, pupilless orbs of crimson shining with thinly veiled excitement and curiosity.


Carefully and confidently, Tyrath picked his way through the veins of blue lava, he observed every nook and shape which formed the road towards the ruined shrines. Though disappointed at the ruin they were in, it did little to stifle the occasion as he stopped in front of the four with bated breath. He had much time on the way there, to decide which God he would call to. The Earth God intrigued him, for the power of the earth was as indomitable as the mountain and as deep as the waters of the sea — he had also met his daughter, someone who despite one meeting, Tyrath had a great deal of respect for. The Goddess of the Moon, he had heard of her, as mysterious as the dark places on the long winter nights, the fury of the winds and shadows blessed her with beauty and subdued those that would defy her. The God of Time, sarcastic, that was a word he had heard tacked on to Lord Time the few times other had spoken of him, but a creature in charge of the inevitable tapestry of the timeways and herald of lightning. Finally, molten eyes turned to the ashen shrine in front of him. The God of the Sun, Lord of Light and Patron of the Dragon's Throat. As radient as the sun against the final tendrils of morning twilight, and as fierce as untamed wildfires when ignited. As he gazed, he felt a strange sort of something in the forgotten stone and he took a sure step forward.

The Sun was who he had came to see, to falter towards his gateway would be a poor impression indeed. With a flick of his ear towards his father and a quick glance, he cleared his throat and turned his head skyward. "Lord Sun, I have come to the veins to seek your blessing, and your wisdom." Perhaps too formal for a Colt? Tyrath entertained it with a mirth filled smile, he wasn't exactly like other colts and fillies, which wandered in a blissful state of youthful ignorance. Shielded by their mother's desires to keep them within a bubble filled with sweetness and light, to keep them from the gritty realities which existed beyond their grandiose illusions they worked so tirelessly to weave.    



talk talk talk

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using one of my VOTG Passes from my prize list to quest for:

[Dark x Fire :: active] :: able to summon a wall of soulfire arrows with a beat of his wings. Fire burns from the inside out on contact with target.
Restrictions :: [Wall extends up to 10m from body, cannot directly control the arrows.]

Tyrath

Here lies the Abyss