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06-16-2014, 06:26 AM
en natt så kall och månen den var klar
[ randomly huge post oops ]
Was time running out for Sielu? With each passing heartbeat, with each second this round-eyed youth wasted on gawping instead of running off to find a healer—did it bring his youngest, most fragile child closer to death? She was dead weight between them, each of Illynx's breaths and shifts reverberating through her narrow frame onto his flank. The dark spaces around his mind were silent, with no silver stream of words reaching for his thoughts, and her breathing seemed so shallow, so weak.
Had they killed her, with their ruthless dragging of her here? Had they sentenced her to die while waiting for help?
No, please, no; she was still standing at least, held upright by whatever last bit of strength she had. Mauja's heart was thundering, eyes wild, until he saw the sky. Through the drizzle came the small, odd stallion, the one Mauja wanted to call both friend and foe, danger. The phoenix (he told Irma and Diego to remain out of sight) was with him, of course, with her fire.
But if he was Czar, then healers could come at his command, and the life of Mauja's child would be saved,
right?
Because right now he was pinning all his hopes on Midas.
It pushed even all his fears of another brutal attempt at arresting him aside. Because what was more important? His freedom, or his daughter's life? But he did not believe Midas cruel enough to barter with her breath and blood, not now, maybe afterwards, but not when saving her; the colt, who had received no more response than Mauja's snapping teeth, took off at the Czar's orders, disappeared, and was never to be seen again by Mauja—that day, at least. The phoenix went, too. And those gold eyes turned back to the unicorns.
If he'd meant to attack Mauja and take him prisoner, he seemed to give up on it, because with a kind of defeat in his stance and voice he said: “Let me help make her comfortable.” Mauja didn't know what it meant, what he would do, just stood wound tight and worried but nodding imperceptibly. He wanted to cater towards what kindness there was in Midas, scrub away the stains of their last encounter and what questions surely lingered in their minds.
But then his attention was taken off the past, rudely returned to the present as sand—so dry in the bitter downpour—rose from the sodden ground, and the purple child seemed to fold down onto it. It tickled against his legs, and Illynx moved aside; Mauja reached down instead, to touch his muzzle to Sielu's cheek, barely noticing that the rain seemed to lessen. Illynx's voice went in one ear and out the other. Surely she was just exchanging pleasantries and if he had to guess what she was saying, he'd probably nail it. Besides, some part of his mind was paying attention.
But at the mention of Sielu's name he glanced up, seeing Illynx give him a questioning look. He shook his head. Her guess was as good as his—that was to say, neither of them had a clue.
A small, fat roan came wobbling over.
For a dizzying moment he saw her from an owl's perspective only, until his gaze rushed down to earth and he saw her coming through the morning mist instead. Her sides were showing some roundness, her scent revealing her to be pregnant, but.. whatever the case, she seemed absolutely terrified of them. Mauja gave Illynx a searching look. After all, the mare was hornless, so it would not surprise him if she'd been tangled up in the less savory activities of the Basin.
Despite her fear, and maybe driven on by what he assumed was her companion panther, she came over, staring intently at Sielu. Mauja looked at her, then at Midas, then back to his child, all the while trying to still his thrumming heart and mask his fear. Because it would not have been beyond him to murder a helpless child, if born of the enemy; what was to prevent them from doing it?
But they didn't. Of course they didn't.
She became less limp, still sprawled, but he heard the first tentative echo of her voice in his mind. "I'm here," he whispered to the girl, head bent, heart racing, mind a mess. But she came back to him. She came back to life, two-colored eyes open, strength in her too-narrow frame, as she seemed to stand without the aid of sand. Wonder colored her voice, amazement, ravens flying and feathers and—
“Bird man.”
He felt so relieved he could've cackled manically and wept, just because the chemicals had to get out of him somewhere, but all that came out was soft, fond laughter. Ever the inquisitive mind, and yet.. well, of course, with her rather sheltered upbringing, this had to be the first Pegasus she saw.
"Yes," he answered. The danger sweeping away was enough to bring him back to life, to let the sharp-edged amusement glint in his pale eyes. "Bird man. His name is Midas, and he rules these lands, and helped to make you feel better."
His gaze drifted to Midas, to his gold-touched eyes, and he wondered if the Pegasus would be able to read what the emotions spelled out in his own: thank you.
Was time running out for Sielu? With each passing heartbeat, with each second this round-eyed youth wasted on gawping instead of running off to find a healer—did it bring his youngest, most fragile child closer to death? She was dead weight between them, each of Illynx's breaths and shifts reverberating through her narrow frame onto his flank. The dark spaces around his mind were silent, with no silver stream of words reaching for his thoughts, and her breathing seemed so shallow, so weak.
Had they killed her, with their ruthless dragging of her here? Had they sentenced her to die while waiting for help?
No, please, no; she was still standing at least, held upright by whatever last bit of strength she had. Mauja's heart was thundering, eyes wild, until he saw the sky. Through the drizzle came the small, odd stallion, the one Mauja wanted to call both friend and foe, danger. The phoenix (he told Irma and Diego to remain out of sight) was with him, of course, with her fire.
But if he was Czar, then healers could come at his command, and the life of Mauja's child would be saved,
right?
Because right now he was pinning all his hopes on Midas.
It pushed even all his fears of another brutal attempt at arresting him aside. Because what was more important? His freedom, or his daughter's life? But he did not believe Midas cruel enough to barter with her breath and blood, not now, maybe afterwards, but not when saving her; the colt, who had received no more response than Mauja's snapping teeth, took off at the Czar's orders, disappeared, and was never to be seen again by Mauja—that day, at least. The phoenix went, too. And those gold eyes turned back to the unicorns.
If he'd meant to attack Mauja and take him prisoner, he seemed to give up on it, because with a kind of defeat in his stance and voice he said: “Let me help make her comfortable.” Mauja didn't know what it meant, what he would do, just stood wound tight and worried but nodding imperceptibly. He wanted to cater towards what kindness there was in Midas, scrub away the stains of their last encounter and what questions surely lingered in their minds.
But then his attention was taken off the past, rudely returned to the present as sand—so dry in the bitter downpour—rose from the sodden ground, and the purple child seemed to fold down onto it. It tickled against his legs, and Illynx moved aside; Mauja reached down instead, to touch his muzzle to Sielu's cheek, barely noticing that the rain seemed to lessen. Illynx's voice went in one ear and out the other. Surely she was just exchanging pleasantries and if he had to guess what she was saying, he'd probably nail it. Besides, some part of his mind was paying attention.
But at the mention of Sielu's name he glanced up, seeing Illynx give him a questioning look. He shook his head. Her guess was as good as his—that was to say, neither of them had a clue.
A small, fat roan came wobbling over.
For a dizzying moment he saw her from an owl's perspective only, until his gaze rushed down to earth and he saw her coming through the morning mist instead. Her sides were showing some roundness, her scent revealing her to be pregnant, but.. whatever the case, she seemed absolutely terrified of them. Mauja gave Illynx a searching look. After all, the mare was hornless, so it would not surprise him if she'd been tangled up in the less savory activities of the Basin.
Despite her fear, and maybe driven on by what he assumed was her companion panther, she came over, staring intently at Sielu. Mauja looked at her, then at Midas, then back to his child, all the while trying to still his thrumming heart and mask his fear. Because it would not have been beyond him to murder a helpless child, if born of the enemy; what was to prevent them from doing it?
But they didn't. Of course they didn't.
She became less limp, still sprawled, but he heard the first tentative echo of her voice in his mind. "I'm here," he whispered to the girl, head bent, heart racing, mind a mess. But she came back to him. She came back to life, two-colored eyes open, strength in her too-narrow frame, as she seemed to stand without the aid of sand. Wonder colored her voice, amazement, ravens flying and feathers and—
“Bird man.”
He felt so relieved he could've cackled manically and wept, just because the chemicals had to get out of him somewhere, but all that came out was soft, fond laughter. Ever the inquisitive mind, and yet.. well, of course, with her rather sheltered upbringing, this had to be the first Pegasus she saw.
"Yes," he answered. The danger sweeping away was enough to bring him back to life, to let the sharp-edged amusement glint in his pale eyes. "Bird man. His name is Midas, and he rules these lands, and helped to make you feel better."
His gaze drifted to Midas, to his gold-touched eyes, and he wondered if the Pegasus would be able to read what the emotions spelled out in his own: thank you.
Se dem brinna över verkan se dem dansa framför bål
Se dem mässa inför satan se dem smida sina stål
Se dem mässa inför satan se dem smida sina stål
