| Aurora Basin Phantom atk: 7.5 | def: 10 | dam: 2.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 8 yrs HP: 60.0 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Glo |
It was his ideal tapestry of peace; an embellished sky above, and down below, the sea. Wavering on the edge of the cliff, disorderly in the silence, Roland admired the dance of moonlight upon the ocean’s violent surface, the crash of waves against jagged rock rolling across the swell of wind like a lullaby. A frozen wasteland sprawled out beside and behind him, uneven and rocky, bathed in pale sterling and completely empty. Now that spring had come the drifts of snow were beginning to thin and melt, and what little remained from the winter ghosted across the stone like a band of mischievous specters, twisting around the stallion’s legs and scattering through the air like ash.
Roland waited with an almost breathless impatience for the warmth to return and melt the ice from his mind as much as the mountains of his home, for he was tired of the misery that thrived in the cold and lurked in every shadowed crevice. He had woken to the moon, days ago, just as he had woken to sudden darkness mere months earlier and found his home swallowed by a starless void, no hint of comfort to cling to besides a single light emanating from the Haruspex’s cave.
It would be impossible to describe the joy that had overtaken him when he first opened his eyes to light; not the pale, golden luminescence that wound throughout the herd lands and rippled in the waters of the lake, there as a festering reminder that their Gods had lifted anchor and cast off, but a cool and familiar radiance that seemed to smooth the craggy edges of every uneven surface in sight. Their moon had returned, borne by its chariot of twinkling stars, coaxing new flora to bloom amidst the frost and frigid air. If their Goddess had returned to Helovia, what of the other deities? For once, Roland found himself optimistic of their return and wished he had not tossed aside his comrade’s words of hope with such passionate disbelief.
Now, luckily, there was more to invest his hope in, to cling to as if his mortality was being threatened. In odd places, where the layer of ice did not permeate the ground, strange life was blossoming. Roland had first encountered the glowing flowers by the hot springs’ bank, faces tilted towards the moon and petals curving downwards. He had noted with amusement that they seemed to shrug, postures askew with leaves curling expectantly, lifted in repentance. It was the first glimmer of happiness he had felt in a long time.
Above him, the moon hung over the cliffs like a watchful guardian, curling swaths of silver silk around his hide and scattering fractured white light across every surface until the entire world seemed to glow with prosperity. If he could drape himself in all the silver that he saw then he would never want for gold again.
Push your luck if it makes you a promise
that turns con men honest.
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Image Credit
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