the Rift


[PRIVATE] Magic stirs (Rasta)(CLOSED)
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#1

Distractions kept the hard choices at bay; and memories that made most my nights horribly wakeful. With the blazing sun striking my back in unforgiving familiarity, I maneuvered my oldest strand of magic as part of daily training that had become routine. Sand. It was fun to simply spin it round and round as a warm up. Twisting sections into shapes that then merged into other indescribable silhouettes—the deep concentration furrowed my brow. The gold granules spun harmlessly into the air, forming beautiful patters that swirled toward heaven. After a few moments of this I willed them to spin faster, urging with a mere thought and by planting my hooves harder into the yielding earth below. Rapidly they spun, encircling my frame in a scattered array, yet never so much as brushing past a hair or feather on my body. The wind picked up, my focus intensified until the sound of whistling sand became a flush hum of blood pumping in each ear.

Sweat pooled around my center, slicking the folds of my muscles until I gleamed. Still they were urged on; steel laced chest heaved with effort, breath began coming in quick, short bursts. Eventually the sand consumed outside vision—it merged together to form a globe. A hurricane of sand, and I was its eye. An unpleasant grunt escaped between clinched teeth, lids slipped closed as I forcefully pushed against the barrier—stretching it to the breaking point. Stretching it until enough space had gathered between me and it that another full sized equine could be standing alongside.
Our colours come alive when I collide with you
with you, with you
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Rasta Posts: 305
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: six (ages in Tallsun) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Ettore :: Red-Tailed Hawk :: None Abba
#2
Flames - they licked the walls
tenderly, they turned to dust all that I adore
I moved my way through the lands, preparing to take a gander towards the Deep Forest. But, alas, I would not be leaving just yet. I needed to physically see the wall that had severed my hawk from me. The wall that had killed him, no doubt.

As my feet carried me towards the wall of the Throat where I could leave, though, I ran across a hurricane of sand, one which had formed a globe. I was but a half a horse space away from it and I could feel the wind as it pressed against my pelt.

And slowly the globe began to expand, it's tendrils of spinning sand stretching out, to encase more ground. Soon, the sand was scratching against my pelt, and I am stumbling backwards, eyes squeezed shut to feel the vibrations as they ring through the earth from the force of the magic in use before me. I can feel my pelt stinging from where it had tried to spread and cling to me.

So, with ears perked up I waited to see if it would die, if the sands would attempt spread even further and create more stings on my coat. My flesh trembling a little, trying to shake off the feeling of the sting, and my mouth almost hanging open from awe. I hadn't believed something such as this could exist at these times. I would wait. If my assumptions were correct, from the vibrations of the magic that was swirling before me, perhaps it was Midas hiding behind the veil of sand.
Ascended Helovian

Midas the Gallant Posts: 1,164
Deceased
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: Immortal :: Soul is 7 (FF) Buff: HUNTER
Fina :: Common Zephyr :: Phoenix & Wakiya & Neve :: Common Zephyr :: Arctic Angel
#3

Rasta might have gone unnoticed awhile longer had it not been for Fina who approached from the sky and saw the crafter stumble away from my dome. At first she wasn’t overly concerned about the mare, it was her own stupidity that she didn’t take notice of yon sand sooner—then it dawned on the Phoenix that said alabaster woman was also blind in their previous encounters. “Midas, stop,” she called,“Rasta.” In the center of the swirling mass I opened my eyes, and instantly pulled the sphere closer. After a moment the granules slipped by gravity’s beckon back to earth. The golden sheen turned into the sandy brown and red it had been before; a tight frown is upon my face and the rise of concern now furrowed my brows instead of intimate concentration.

“Are you…” I started to say once my vision was clear enough to see her standing by—eyes wide and awash with care. She didn’t appear injured, perhaps a little dusty, but we usually all where (part of living in a desert), “Forgive me, I didn’t know ye was standing there.” tone was soft and apologetic but still more than a little breathless; aureate gaze rose from her shoulders to the vacant eyes I expected to see—yet surprisingly they weren’t the milky emotionless pools I’d grown used to. “Are you alright?” I asked finally, unsure if it was the trick of the sun or my own tired longings that caused her eyes to come alive. Limbs took a few casually steps closer, partly to get a better look and verify both questions.
Our colours come alive when I collide with you
with you, with you
[Image: 5388c9b80fe59]

Rasta Posts: 305
Hidden Account atk: 7 | def: 10 | dam: 3
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1hh :: six (ages in Tallsun) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Ettore :: Red-Tailed Hawk :: None Abba
#4
[Image: jWPP4oi.png]

I shuffled my feet, stumbling back a few more steps as the sand bothered my shoulder. My eyes peering up towards the sky, trying to find the source of this creation if there was any. Alas, I could not see any. And, as the pheonix came down I was shuffling my feet backwards.
Nightmares of my hawk burning to death. The way that the wings twisted and curled. Smoke. The smell of flesh charring. Her eyes were widening.

He asked if she was okay, but she couldn't manage to shake or nod her thread and her eyes were widening. He said that he didn't know she was standing there. But it doesn't matter, because the images of her hawk burning are still flashing behind her skull.

Midas is moving in closer. He seems concerned - confused but still genuinely concerned.

It didn't matter, though. I can't bring myself to keep moving. My limbs are shuffling me backwards and I am running. I am running for my life. Tears are streaming down my face as I imagine the grotesque manner in which my hawk would have been killed. And I can't stop the smell of burning flesh. It's inflitrated my mind even though it isn't there. And it is then when I turn on my tail. I don't care if he yells my name. I don't care if he comes racing after me. I need out of this sand-filled land. I need to find the wall that had severed this bond. I need some sense of closure on his death so that I can properly grieve the one thing that had been my life connection.

And so I run. I run to the Deep Forest to try and get my mind into a better place...


THREAD IS FINISHED

two feet standing on a principle
two hands digging in each others wounds
cold smoke seeping out of colder throats

darkness falling, leaves nowhere to move

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