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Aquila & Craonos
The Akvian mare had been… lost after the reveal of Kaos. Never before had the wariorress felt such emotions in her chest as when she had seen Kisamoa arise out of the sea those fateful days. So she had dove deep into the sea, choosing to grasp onto the hope that, if Kaos had been able to show them a reef from the Rift, then perhaps there was some way back to her home.
In one fell swoop, Kaos had undone all the seasons of work the aquatic mare had made in moving on.
Her scaled ears ears flicked to an fro as she slowly emerged from the waves for the first time in…well, it felt like years. She had been beneath the waves for so long…the sun was hot on the Isles as compared to when she had dove down, the day of the bone monster.
Her gills tried to suck air, and she stumbled in the shallow surf with her precious cargo, as she forgot to use her nostrils rather than her gills to breath above the waves. Already too-large eyes widened in fear as they jerked to the ovoid object that bobbed gently in the surf in front of her scaled forelegs, a gasping snort exploding from her ridged nostrils as she remember to use them.
Aquila’s concern was understandable, the elliptical object (—an egg—) was exquisite. Aquatic blues and greens, along with bright jewel-like colors of fish and coral, played along it surface in undulating patterns that mimicked the sea’s swells. With each kiss of the ocean, a burst of silver scattered across its shell.
Luckily, the egg that the Akvian had procured from deep beneath the sea (remarkably close to where she had entered Helovia from the Rift) was made of sturdier stuff, and so did not fracture when Aquila stumbled into it.
Slowly, carefully, she rolled the egg free of the clear water and onto the soft sand. The colors slowly muted as the shell dried, becoming the pastels of morning rather than the vibrant pallet of late day. Bright, aqua and yellow eyes stared down at the egg, lost and confused, seeing it as her only anchor to home.
Slowly, a patchwork of swirling cracks spread across the egg’s surface once it was entirely dry. Aquila’s unblinking gaze followed it, waiting apprehensively. Should she have kept it beneath the waves, submerged so that it never hatched? Kept it safe until she could find a way to return both of them to Akvo? Never had the mare been more uncertain.
Parts of shell began to fall away in scroll-like pieces, elegant even in it’s hatching. An, beneath the surface was an aquamarine-tinged, white narwhal calf, “Balenokorn,” was her hushed, throaty whisper. They did not live in the tropically warm waters of Akvo, but they were revered creatures from cold, northern seas in the Rift. Known for their nobility, justice, and knowledge.
Aquila began to drag the remaining shell and newly born narwhal back to the ocean, worried that it needed water. But two dark, soulful, already ancient eyes stopped her as the narwhal leviathan slowly levitated out of the broken shell pieces. It did a few lazy, unsteady flips, before thrumming a contended sigh and resting back onto the warm, white sand.
“Craonos,” Aquila whispered, naming the proud, wondrous creature after the first Akvian to unite all the fighting clans and begin Akvo’s Golden Age. Perhaps this creature would be the one to unite Aquila with Akvo. Or, at least, unite all of her broken, failed pieces.
Warmth flooded into her—a sensation she had not felt since her captain’s approval before she left the Rift— as she felt this young, hopeful, calm soul invade her own.
And, for the first time, she submitted to it, allowing another to take over herself.
eloviĝo = hatching
Balenokorn = narwhal (or horned-whale)
In one fell swoop, Kaos had undone all the seasons of work the aquatic mare had made in moving on.
Her scaled ears ears flicked to an fro as she slowly emerged from the waves for the first time in…well, it felt like years. She had been beneath the waves for so long…the sun was hot on the Isles as compared to when she had dove down, the day of the bone monster.
Her gills tried to suck air, and she stumbled in the shallow surf with her precious cargo, as she forgot to use her nostrils rather than her gills to breath above the waves. Already too-large eyes widened in fear as they jerked to the ovoid object that bobbed gently in the surf in front of her scaled forelegs, a gasping snort exploding from her ridged nostrils as she remember to use them.
Aquila’s concern was understandable, the elliptical object (—an egg—) was exquisite. Aquatic blues and greens, along with bright jewel-like colors of fish and coral, played along it surface in undulating patterns that mimicked the sea’s swells. With each kiss of the ocean, a burst of silver scattered across its shell.
Luckily, the egg that the Akvian had procured from deep beneath the sea (remarkably close to where she had entered Helovia from the Rift) was made of sturdier stuff, and so did not fracture when Aquila stumbled into it.
Slowly, carefully, she rolled the egg free of the clear water and onto the soft sand. The colors slowly muted as the shell dried, becoming the pastels of morning rather than the vibrant pallet of late day. Bright, aqua and yellow eyes stared down at the egg, lost and confused, seeing it as her only anchor to home.
Slowly, a patchwork of swirling cracks spread across the egg’s surface once it was entirely dry. Aquila’s unblinking gaze followed it, waiting apprehensively. Should she have kept it beneath the waves, submerged so that it never hatched? Kept it safe until she could find a way to return both of them to Akvo? Never had the mare been more uncertain.
Parts of shell began to fall away in scroll-like pieces, elegant even in it’s hatching. An, beneath the surface was an aquamarine-tinged, white narwhal calf, “Balenokorn,” was her hushed, throaty whisper. They did not live in the tropically warm waters of Akvo, but they were revered creatures from cold, northern seas in the Rift. Known for their nobility, justice, and knowledge.
Aquila began to drag the remaining shell and newly born narwhal back to the ocean, worried that it needed water. But two dark, soulful, already ancient eyes stopped her as the narwhal leviathan slowly levitated out of the broken shell pieces. It did a few lazy, unsteady flips, before thrumming a contended sigh and resting back onto the warm, white sand.
“Craonos,” Aquila whispered, naming the proud, wondrous creature after the first Akvian to unite all the fighting clans and begin Akvo’s Golden Age. Perhaps this creature would be the one to unite Aquila with Akvo. Or, at least, unite all of her broken, failed pieces.
Warmth flooded into her—a sensation she had not felt since her captain’s approval before she left the Rift— as she felt this young, hopeful, calm soul invade her own.
And, for the first time, she submitted to it, allowing another to take over herself.
eloviĝo = hatching
Balenokorn = narwhal (or horned-whale)
the language of waves
YAY CRAONOS is born! Open to anyone :D
Please tag Aquila in all posts.
