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the goddess internal

Hespera Posts: N/A
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#5
07-07-2013, 12:17 AM

Cold; it is so sharp and bitter. It's a strange sensation, a new experience for the mare unaccustomed to the pains of a body. Never before had she felt the frost on her lips and glistening in her wild ivory mane, the snow gathering on her back in heaps of creamy sugar. For a moment, Hespera entertained the images of a snow princess, a fragile being of winter stalking through the forest. Fanciful notions, that was. Everyone knew there was no such thing as the Ice Queen in her northern palace. It was said that Paen, king of Sturmbur, old as the trees and quick-witted as a fox, had ventured to the bitter reaches far in his days of youth. Her lips curled daintily at the thought of the painted bay, in swirling reds and whites and blues. But that was the past. Paen would not hinder her in this new world of sensations of cold and snow and frost, the heat of another's flank against her, the strangeness of new and bizarre scents.

So new, so bright, everything hurt. Was this how mortals felt, the illeids? Would the bittersweet taste of cold hard reality ever leave?

Anger. It rippled through her, as if one had thrown a boulder into a tranquil lake, emanating through her bond with the griffon, bursting through with furious calls. She had been stripped of her title, ripped of what made her her, with all the painful memories still intact. Once, she had thought she would want to be hindered by this bulky thing called a body. Now, the stormchild wished she could returned to her wind form, create eddies with her breathing and dance in the storms without fear. These legs were fragile, slender, weak; stalks of grass holding up a tree.

Halfchild blinked beside her, peering downwards with amber and sky eyes, anxiety writ across his handsome little face. A drop of crimson blood hung, suspended, at the curve of his beak. Blood. Not ichor; but good, honest-to-god red, the scarlet of life. What was the saying? You don't know what you have until it's gone?

Otienu chirrups giddily, gleeful in her wakefulness.

A scowl clouds her features, even as the lavender maiden speaks. How Hespera could have mistaken her for Berian, she did not know. Maybe it was the stiffness in the jaw, the brusque line of feminine muscles, the hardness in the eyes. More memories, dug up from where she had buried them, uncertain whether the gold was cursed. Gossip, whispers late in the night after their companion had fallen to the warmth of sleep, euphoric meetings of girl-speak, before they had hardened to the pettiness of childhood. The way Berian began to stand, shoulders back, looking more stallion than mare, her ears sharp and attentive, eyes glistening with silent anger.

Together they had bled inside, from the mistakes of their people and their army, the misguided morals of fools and charlatans.

"Forgive me. I am..." Not used to using the customs of this land. Forgive me, for I am suddenly trapped inside a body. Forgive me, for I do not know who I am. Otienu's anxiety comes back stronger than ever, waves of concern lapping at the shore of stoic sand. Unable to find the words, the stormchild does not complete the sentence. Once more her legs fold and unfold, bend and unbend, until she stands, weak.

Hespera scowls darkly. How can the sun not rise? Yet, the darkness is so utter she cannot help but accept the explanation. "Did your gods abandon their duties to the world beneath them?"

Silently she began to walk beside Yseulte, wary of the stranger but with nowhere else to go.

- HESPERA & OTIENU -


Messages In This Thread
the goddess internal - by Hespera - 06-27-2013, 08:34 PM
RE: the goddess internal - by Yseulte - 06-29-2013, 05:38 PM
RE: the goddess internal - by Hespera - 07-02-2013, 11:10 PM
RE: the goddess internal - by Yseulte - 07-06-2013, 11:20 PM
RE: the goddess internal - by Hespera - 07-07-2013, 12:17 AM

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