| Outcast atk: 9 | def: 10.5 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.2hh :: 8 HP: 61.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Gaz |
It would have been a beautiful day, had the sun been out. It seemed like months had gone by since he had felt the warmth of light on his back, or gazed skyward to find the comforting glow of the moon. Days blended into nights now, with no signs to indicate the time that had gone by or whether or not he should be sleeping. He had stumbled around in darkness like a blind foal, deprived of sight and relying upon all other dulled senses to find his way. Only the haunting glow of lanterns that hung in the trees had provided any light by which to see, and when one was hundreds of feet above ground, they were of little help.
Now, however, a hopeful wash of light had spread across Helovia. Stars had gradually begun to appear in the skies, and finally, the moon had joined them. Though the world was still trapped in an endless night, the citizens were no longer alone without their Gods; one had returned. Despite having learned much about the deities throughout his childhood, none had ever held much weight in his life save the Goddess. Her history was deeply entwined with that of his homeland, and he had been raised to admire and revere her. Her return alone was enough to make him forget the darkness and the rift, and all the troubles that had come with it. Finally, there was something to bring them hope.
Murdock had been flying over the cliffs of the northern shoreline, satisfying an unconscious need to stay close to the moon and her light. Everything looked so small from up high; it was all so featureless and insignificant, shadowed from the starlight by dying trees. After weeks spent in total darkness, he never wanted to return to the shelter of the Foothills where the mountains and forests hid the sky from view. He was afraid to land, to finally have to face the weariness that had settled into his chilled bones and the ice that had formed along his wings.
His course gradually led him south, though he was flying far higher than he normally liked to and as such, landmarks were unrecognizable. He followed what little light he could find, using the meandering trail of dim lanterns to plan his track and guide him back toward his home. The tree-lights had grown brighter upon the moon’s return, which made navigation much easier for him. Despite having a keen sense of direction and a firm grasp on which way was up and which was down, flying had been impossible in total darkness. With the return of light, he was finally able to return to the skies.
When his muscles finally began to ache from the cold, he gave in to his better judgment and descended toward the ground. He recognized the area as the heavenly fields as he grew closer to the earth, though it was barely recognizable in the darkness. The grass was wilted and silver from the frost, and as he touched down onto the frozen dirt it hissed against his legs. He kept his momentum up as he landed, trotting a few paces before gradually slowing to a halt. The air was thin and well below zero so high up in the mountains, and he doubted he could stay still long without freezing.
Folding faintly glowing wings to his sides with a sigh, he watched the vapor of his breath disperse into the darkness. The fields looked dead beneath the pale, haunting light of the moon, snow dusting the distant peaks and turning the world a dreary grey. Colour seemed to have been washed from the world, save the dim glow of violet and indigo from the edge of the meadow that caught Murdock’s eye. Turning toward the faintly pulsing lights, he pushed his way through the tall, frost-stiff grass toward the cluster of flowers.
Nestled at the roots of a crippled hawthorn bush, he found a curious bed of flowers. Despite the temperature and the frosts, they had remained very much alive and, most interestingly, they were glowing. Their blossoms resembled lilies, but unlike the white and orange flowers he was used to seeing, these were iridescent and came in various shades of blue and purple. Unlike the tree-lights, their radiance was far more subdued, but nonetheless they were strikingly beautiful. He wondered what other things the darkness may have created, or what it may have twisted and broken. Was Helovia the only region plagued by this darkness, or was it all of Loorien that had been plunged into shadow?
"talk talk talk"
If I go crazy then will you still call me Superman?
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Image Credit
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