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11-08-2016, 12:29 PM
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| Sohalia was among the first to arrive in the wake of Nephele’s heated call, concern creasing her brow and worry quickening her steps. In her mind, a warrior would call the entire herd together for one reason and one reason only: they were under attack. And so it was that she hurried forth, her heart hammering anxiously in her chest. She was no warrior maiden, not like Nephele, or Ampere, or Megaera - if she had ever questioned it before, her recent fight with Cera had taught her that – but she would fight until her dying breath to protect those who gathered now. Much to her surprise, the dark mare had summoned them not to warn them, but to scold them, and though the Transcended felt a profound relief that she would not be called to battle this day, she could not help the dismay bubbling in her breast. Who was Nephele to take them to task for mourning their much-loved former Sultan? Who was she to say that nothing had been done since his death, when if she would only open her eyes, she would see that progress was being made, albeit quietly? It was not in the ivory dove’s way to argue with her family, but this… after having helped build the church and beginning to form an Academy upon these sands, this was almost personal. But before Sohalia had a chance to speak, a dull, cracked voice sparked briefly to life nearby. Ampere (gods, she looked terrible, she would have to seek out the blue later and remind her that life was still worth living), of all people, was voicing Sohalia’s name in place of Nephele’s. Suddenly, everything within the dove was on fire once again, a new kind of adrenaline replacing the fear that had reigned in her prior to learning Nephele’s true motives for calling them together. This was the kind of battle that the mare could take on with confidence. Whatever else she might have lacked, diplomacy was not in short supply for Sohalia. If they would give her a chance, she would prove to them that she was worthy of following her deceased mate into leadership once more. And so she stepped forward, bolstered by the Mother of Companions, whose support made her heart swell with a grateful warmth. A friendly smile lit her face as she moved to stand beside Nephele, facing those who had gathered. She held no enmity toward the black mare, and in fact had great respect for what she had started here, even if she felt her speech a bit… misguided. “Nephele’s passion should inspire us all,” she began, “for it is perhaps true that, in some areas, our herd has stagnated.” She paused ever so slightly, ruffling her wings slightly to settle them into a more comfortable position. “But I do not believe that our situation is quite as precarious as you proclaim, dear Guardian. It is true that our sands have been quiet, but is it not fitting that we take this time to mourn our lost Sultan? It has been only a bit more than a season since his passing.” Her voice thickened at that, her mouth twisting into a saddened frown. It was not easy even now to cope with their loss, not when it was so much more personal for her than for most of the others gathered. But she pressed on, as much to honor Gaucho’s memory as to finish sharing her thoughts. “Silence does not beget weakness by necessity, after all. I ask you all: have we not completed our church, led by our Diviner in one of the greatest displays of faith in all of Helovia? Have I not worked to spread discussion about an Academy, aided by those such as Ampere and Maren, which would be the first center of academia in our land? There is work to be done, to be sure; we are, after all, in dire need of a new Sun Physician, and our warrior ranks have, as Nephele says, declined. But that does not leave us entirely lacking. “Thieves may be at our door, but this has always been true. Even at our highest points, we have not always been vigilant enough to escape all such actions. But we have always overcome, we have always fought for what is ours, and we have always prevailed. We are not blind, we are not complacent, and we are no less passionate than we were a week, or a season, or a year ago. We can remain as great as we have been for the years we spent under Gaucho’s rule and all who came before him. We are that herd still, even in this time of mourning and change. And if we face these doubts from within –“ she glanced at Nephele, “- then perhaps it is time to show the world that our fires are still burning.” "Talk talk talk." |
| Sohalia I built this city just to bring it to its knees |
