| Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Glo |
The confusion in Sia’s voice was impossible to evade, and Roland couldn’t help but look at her with something akin to pity in his eyes. Perhaps it was born of regret for having made the same mistake she had, or worry for both their futures. The valley which they stood in was a dark place, even when the sun was shining upon it, and certainly no home for the lighthearted if they were to become familiar with the darker mechanics of the herd.
The Impersonator was not aware of the Plague, but he had heard whispers and witnessed events that hinted at something portent in the subterranean depths of their kindred’s home, until the very thought became to him a teasing symbol of wisdom denied. With that suspicion tucked away in his back pocket, he scrutinized the placement of every footfall and censored his own speech so he might not misstep and find himself, once again, at the pointy end of his herd mate’s daggers.
Yet still Roland aspired to be with them, to be worth something so that he might be able to forget his past mistakes and tragedies. He had grown up an orphan, raised with the suspicion that he wasn’t wanted, and later accused of being a miscreant by the surrogate mothers who had nourished him. Leaving them behind had been a blessing when the War spilled over onto their hearths, but at times he wondered if removing himself from that familiarity, no matter how unpleasant, had been his first mistake in the chain of wrongdoings that seemed to have been bound to his name and heart.
Perhaps she could guess it from the way that he spoke; that he too had been oblivious to the true nature of the Basin’s society when he had joined them. Perhaps it would have been wise of him to ask, or for those who had leveled their swords at him to warn of their ways before allowing him into their home. But he could hardly have been blamed; racism had never been prominent in his life, and as far as hatred went he was only intimately familiar with the prejudice of a father meeting his unwanted child.
Roland sighed weightily, as if all the world’s weight rested upon his shoulders. It was not an easy question to answer, especially when he could see the doubt in Sia’s eyes, illuminated by a distant glow of light. “There is little difference, except some of our kind see horns as crowns, and assume it fit to call themselves Kings and Queens. They claim the right to supremacy and aspire to rule the rest of us or beat down those who oppose their campaign.” His voice was quiet, barely a murmur for fear that someone might be listening from the shadows.
“The Basin is a place for Unicorns, and Unicorns only, though it would be best suited for those who enjoy the snow and vicious winds.” He smiled wryly. “Just because you are not racist doesn’t mean that you will not be welcome here… but greater gifts await those who are willing to lay down their lives and fight for a rising empire.” He was glad that she was not of the usual mindset, which he had grown used to expecting in his herd mates. Few in the Basin knew the truth about whether or not he was racist, and he liked to keep it that way so, in times of need, he could become whatever was wished of him. “Don’t be discouraged, though. Not all of them are so cold hearted, and I may be making it out to sound worse than it is.” Roland gave her a warm, hopeful smile, eyes searching her face for any betrayed emotion. He didn’t wish to scare her off with his honesty, but felt that it would be better she knew what she was getting into before her contract had been signed, and loyalty irrefutably pledged.
Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.
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Image Credit
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