the Rift


[OPEN] Just Know That I'm Already Home

Destrier Posts: 180
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 16 HP: 65.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Suli :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath & Merlin :: Plain Black Dragon :: Frost Breath Dingo
#1

we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>



How long had it been? How many moons had passed since the sun had abandoned us, since wraiths had taken over and plagued the land with sickness? How long had it been since... since I had abandoned my loved ones?

Three seasons had come and gone since I stepped foot out of Helovia. Without a word, I had turned my back on the land I had once fought tooth and nail to protect. Guilt shrouded me like the very darkness that had taken over Helovia, but it hadn't been enough to stop me from returning to my true home of Vallhea. Or... what had once been Vallhea.

What had possessed me to suddenly return was something I had yet to figure out. Grief had always clung to me since that fateful day when the Alrynian's had attacked, striking Bran down and ultimately ending my beloved boy's life; I had always tried to push it behind me and move on, but the more I did so, the harder it became, and perhaps that was the reason I had left. I needed to grieve, to make amends for turning and running that day, for leaving my brothers and sisters to die at the hands of evil.

In short, it hadn't been terribly smart of me to walk so carelessly into the land of Vallhea -- or, Alryne -- as that mistake had cost me three seasons worth of capture by their people. Had it been Bran, or Riven, or any of the other riders I had given my heart to many years ago, then I might have stayed in that once beautiful, mountainous land forever. But the brutal ways of the Alrynian's had ruined that, stripping my home of its natural beauty. They had penned me, attempting to train me in what I already knew and had been taught as a young stallion in Vallhea. For a while, I merely laughed at their attempts, but it took only a week before their tactics had turned barbarous.

Suli had tried to defend me countless times, but I had pleaded to her that she remain out of sight, for should any of the humans lay eye on her and manage to capture her, I knew it spelt nothing but disaster for my best friend.

Ivar, a savage young man, had been assigned to me. I was to be his mount in battle, his loyal servant to always dismiss those brutal blows to my barrel from rusted old spurs... Acting out had only gotten me so far, and Ivar would make certain to get his payback in any way that he could; be it witholding a meal after an exhausting day, more harsh jerks of the bit, or working me three times as hard the following day. But, just a week ago, I had been granted my freedom.

A spat with a neighboring village had ended Ivar, a broadsword through the young man's chest; and while I might have felt remorse for him, a great joy had filled my chest as I galloped away from what had once been my beloved home. To stay would only mean another brutal man upon my back, as well as leaving in the dark those that I loved back in Helovia.

It was with trepidation that I returned, taking in the nearly forgotten scent of the Threshold as I passed through it. The shade of the trees were a blessing across my sweltering black hide, which still ached from an ill-fitting saddle and the many cuts across my barrel. My mouth, too, was victim to a bit set too tight and a hand too rough, but the many insects of Tallsun seemed to be making a playday out of incessantly landing upon my wounds and having their way with them.

But not even those pesky devils, nor a thousands armies, could stop me from reaching the World's Edge today.

I ran as far and as fast as I could, crimped tail streaming behind me like a wildfire as long legs carried me across the land. Suli flew just above me, letting loose a joyous orchestra of trills and chirps that played low in her throat. We didn't make it to the World's Edge until twilight, just as the sun was beginning to descend behind the mighty loblolly pines and the moon was taking her throne in the darkening sky. The sour, but oh-so-sweet aroma of sea salt hit my nose as I reached the borders, filling me with a sense of excitement that I hadn't felt in years. The temptation of rearing upon hindlegs and striking out at the sky, screaming my return to the heavens was strong, but then the thought hit me... What if they didn't want me back? What if the World's Edge I had grown to love and cherish had somehow been driven out, or worse?

For a moment I stood silently, swallowing thickly against the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. Suli had settled upon my nape, her claws clutching at the strands of my mane to secure herself. She had to have sensed my sudden discomfort, my uncertainty to even show my face to those I had abandoned so long ago. 'They will understand,' her soothing voice ebbed into my mind, and beneath her, I gave a long exhale. I wasn't so ready to bet the same, but if I continued to stand here and doubt myself... then I would never find out.

Straightening my posture, I released a call into the wilds of the World's Edge, beckoning the presence of whoever now called it home.

"Speak."




image by blu | table code by tamme


You may attack and use magic on Des at any time for any reason.

HP: 66.5

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#2
The voice is familiar, one he had thought to belong to a dead man who had left behind only a cart in the belly of the darkness.

At first, he wonders if it’s a ghost, but then the smell of blood reaches his nostrils, and he tenses where he once loped easily forward towards the sound of the summons near the gate. As with most who lived through the onslaught of the wraiths, the combination of a dead man and the stench of blood makes him hesitate in his speed and become all the more aware of his surroundings, large hooves beating the earth rhythmically as he stretches his legs long in a trot, ears alert and blue eyes flashing wearily as he nears the final ring of trees that hide him from who he hopes is only Destrier.

Not, however, Destrier wearing the putrid cloak of that disease.

The jangle of the feather and branch against his neck comforts him, reminding him that, even in times of absolute darkness, there is golden light, a ring of hope. Ranjiri, himself, Kahlua; they all stood testament to the strength of the soul, its ability to return to whatever shape it held before life had pummeled it into a tight ball of pain and regrets.

Taking a deep breath before he slips through the trees, his eyes are wide and searching as he looks for the figure that has called them to the border, finding the same proud black stallion that had vanished into the darkness as which had left but for a few horrific changes. At first, Dragomir slams his hooves down into the ground and stands with head held aloft and ears prone to the figure of the lost knight, eyes searching the gruesome details along the stallion’s frame for any sign of plague, infestation beyond just the gnats that swarm them, but the stag is still and calm, not insidious and coated in the putrid stench and guise of death, and so little by the little the young man’s heart still its frantic beating and he stares openly at the man with the green dragon.

Dragon.

"I thought you’d died," he says, partially awed that he is not a ghost or an infected devil. The others had not kept their companions, while broken. He smiles, feeling all of his anxiety melt from him as he lets loose a nervous and apologetic nicker in direction of the black knight, wonder now finding purchase in the foot holes of his thoughts as to what has become this poor soul as to leave such strange wounds.

It looks like he’s rubbed his back raw against the earth and then had his dragon lash his sides with her tail for good measure, all while running full speed towards a metal cord whilst gnawing it between his teeth, so crude are the marks along his build and the bloody crevices of his lips.

It’s…simply preposterous, to think he did such an insane thing; not that he’d known him well, but Destrier seemed the good solid sort, an honorable and quiet man. And so he does the only sensible thing one can do in such a situation.

He asks.

"What the hell happened?" he blurts, not really meaning to sound as rude as he has come off and immediately smiling in an awkward, apologetic way as he trots the few steps between them to ease the passing of their words, "the wraiths didn’t do that to anyone else." It explained both his befuddlement and the odd way in which he’d greeted the dark stallion, hoping he was smart enough to catch the meaning hidden in between his words and smiling, albeit a bit worriedly, towards the man he figured he’d never see again.




Dragomir</style>
where light shines, shadows will stretch</style>
Credits
JETTSTOCK : SED-RAH-STOCK : GALAXIESANDDUST</style>
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Luken Posts: 27
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.0 :: Three Years [Tallsun Born] HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Sparrow
#3
If I Shout and Can't Be Heard,
I Want to be Destroyed at Your Hands</style>

While I Can Still be Called "Me"

It had only been a week since he had returned to the cliffside lands of the Edge, slipping through unnoticed through the decrepit, cracked remains of the old Glass Wall. Almost fearfully he had returned, cream-kissed hooves stepping lightly and eyes nearly as wide as his nostrils, flaring and snorting and keeping vigilant for any demonic creatures that may try, once again, to tear him apart. The memories of last Orangemoon rang clear in his mind, when he had returned, young and hopefully and so eager to find his family... But to have been chased out by that wretched creature.

He had not been attacked upon returning home, but no one had been there to greet him, and perhaps that was for the best. He was no warrior heralding victory, but a coward with his tail tucked, and he deserved no good-will or celebrations come his arrival back home. His father, Suli, nor Laila had been around, and Luken remained quiet, staying out of the way of the new King and Queen.

Sometimes, Luken pretends that he isn't alone. On evenings and nights when the darkness is cresting in the sky and sending the sun into hiding, the young stallion speaks, just so that he didn't feel so isolated from the world around him. Soft vocals flow through the air, full of such yearning and companionship, such uncertainty and heart break... Sometimes he speaks out loud, sometimes to himself, sometimes to the trees around him, and sometimes to the figures that his eyes pretend to see dancing in the mists.

Laila, Destrier, Mirage... And even, whenever he is feeling particularly desperate, even Tor dances in the mists. The young stallion snorts at the thought. His mother had been long gone from his life nearly since he had been born, and she deserved not one thought from him. Luken was three summers old now; tall in height, broad and sculpted of hard muscle, and still trying to pull himself from the shadow of his father's greatness.

Were they alive? He hadn't seen Destrier nor Laila in over a year, but oh Gods how he wished they were alright. He yearned to see them again, to hear his father's voice, to feel his twin sister's warmth...

A call echoed through the trees, loud and beckoning and so painfully familiar that Luken stopped short, standing stock-still in the presence of no one but the trees. That beckoning call struck a place so deep within the young stallion, so profound that it caused Luken's ears to swivel forward, chocolate brown orbs widening. It was impossible, wasn't it? Was it...?

Does such things as 'impossible' truly exist? His mind whispered as though taunting him, and one hoof stretched out to take him towards that call, then another, and another, and before he knew it, Luken was thundering through the trees, his too-large body bumping into things with the clumsy grace of a colt who had yet to be fully grown. Low-hanging branches slapped at his eyes in his mad pursuit, but the mutt pressed on as though possessed, determination filling him in ways that it hadn't in a long, long time.

"Father?!" He called out through the trees, head tossing, hooves creating a thundering rhythm against the hard, earthen soil, "Father!"

It was him. It was Destrier. It had to be. There was no mistaking that call... Luken was more capable of forgetting his own voice than the soothing, gentle, proud vocals of the Friesian. Through the trees he bumbled, pace slowing to that of a trot with his knees snapping upwards, and as he crested the trees, there he was.

Twigs and leaves were tangled in Luken's ivory, crimped mane and tail, and while he looked particularly disheveled and quite messy with his sides heaving and nostrils flaring, there was no missing the glazed look of wonder that shone in his brown orbs. Destrier looked just as Luken remembered, except... Except...

"... Dad?"

Oh, Gods, what had happened? The draft-mutt's eyes, however inexperienced to the sight of wounds, could not miss the abrasions and gashes that so crudely flanked Destrier's body, and Luken was unable to approach. Frozen in his tracks by fear and horror, he could only stare at the Friesian that was so thoroughly beaten and abused, and wonder how the hell it had happened. His eyes sought out those of the bay tobiano stallion who stood with them, another face that Luken did not know, but his eyes did not linger upon him for too long before snapping his gaze back to Destrier.

Tentatively, Luken took a step forward. "... Pa?"


Destrier Posts: 180
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 16 HP: 65.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Suli :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath & Merlin :: Plain Black Dragon :: Frost Breath Dingo
#4

we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>



For some time, I wondered if anyone would come at all. My departure from Helovia had been ill-timed, and it was now that I was cursing myself more than ever for the decision. What if the Edge had fallen victim to the dark forces that plagued the living with sickness never before seen, and the friends and family that I loved so were no more?

As the thought crept into my mind, I felt Suli's nose press into the smooth, flat surface of my cheek. The dragoness had wound her talons around the thick of my mane and cooed a gentle warble, undoubtedly sensing my distress. The little green, who really wasn't so little anymore, had been the only constant in my life for well over a year now. It was sickening how accustomed I had grown to losing the ones I loved, from my mother, to Bran, Tor, my children, and possibly the entirety of the Edge; I was grateful that I could take comfort in the knowledge that Suli would never leave me.

My attention is stolen at once, urging my head to turn back and look forward. From the trees emerges the tall form of a young stud I barely knew, but I do know him, and he is very much real and alive. The last I had seen Dragomir, he had been a youngster interested in the art of crafting, studying beneath the keen eyes of the Glaziers. He stares as though I am a ghost, and perhaps in his eyes, I am. The words he speaks shake me to the core, but they remind me of the fate I could have suffered at the hands of man.

Sucking in a deep breath that rattles my barrel and causes a mild throb of pain as the action pulls the broken skin, I mull his question over for a moment. A lot had happened in the three seasons I had been away, and I would be standing here for hours if I explained every detail, even if he did deserve to hear everything.

"Dragomir," I say at first, as though trying to make myself believe that the young stud truly was there and standing right in front of me. I had intended to go on then and explain to the young crafter what had befallen me in my travels, but it's then that another painfully familiar voice catches in my ears and steals my attention. Suli's head, too, snaps up at the sound of it, and as another painted form bursts from the trees, she leaps from my neck and heads straight for him.

Luken had grown much since I'd last seen him. No longer did he stand on the wobbly legs of a colt, but rather the sturdy, strong legs of a young stallion. His frame had expanded and now packed more muscle, and if I didn't know better, I might have thought he were taller than I. Although bedraggled with small twigs, pine needles and leaves in his thick mane, there was no missing the look of absolute wonder in those warm, bister eyes. My son was no longer a boy, a notion that swelled my chest with pride.

"Luken," I breathed out, still clearly taken aback by just how much he had grown. Not wanting another second to pass without having him near, without touching him and knowing that I hadn't gone crazy in my time away, I closed the distance between us and if he allowed, I wrapped my neck about his own and tucked my muzzle into his withers. Suli had made to perch atop Luken's head, wrapping her tail about herself and giving a draconic purr as she rubbed her head against his ear.

I hoped that Dragomir wouldn't mind the display, but there was no holding myself back. Still, I knew that I needed to give an explanation to the both of them. There was no use in me trying to skirt the truth of what had happened, and with another deep inhale I went on, hesitant to pull away from my son but taking a step back nonetheless. "... I was captured by humans, not wraiths," came the beginnings of my explanation, my tone remaining solid and strong despite the look of utter sadness afflicting my eyes. "I left Helovia for my old home of Vallhea, though I hadn't intended to be gone for nearly a year... I was given to a terrible man, whom is responsible for my current condition. He was slain in battle, and only then was I able to make my escape back here."

A pause, and I looked between the two of them, as though trying to gauge what each was thinking. I wouldn't blame them if they turned their backs to me and denied my return to the Edge, and honestly, I was waiting for them to do just that. "Please," I went on after a moment, desperation managing to somehow slip into my voice as it left my throat, "Please, tell me the Edge is still safe. That everyone made it through the darkness."

"Speak."




image by blu | table code by tamme


You may attack and use magic on Des at any time for any reason.

HP: 66.5

Resplendence Posts: 466
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1 hh :: eight (ages in frostfall) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Valiance :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Abba
#5
Valiance was flying around, getting accustomed to his wings completely. Spanning the sky, doing barrels, diving close to the ground and then suddenly opening his wings and floating to a landing in swift movements. Resplendence merely stood there, near her garden, shaking her head at the young dragon.

Alas, it was Valiance who spun off closer to the borders and has Resplendence chasing after him in his attempts from allowing her mind to run relentlessly onward. She picks up her feet, jetting forward, though really only half present in the situation. Her mind was stuck on the memories of those who were no longer here. For example, Mirage. The sweet mare who had said Res was worthy of being the Qian - that she was the definition of a Qian member. It tore her apart that she was no longer present.

There were no tears, not yet. But, that didn't mean she was perfectly fine. A broken mind is inching in closer to the gathering at the border and it is recognition which brightens her eyes with tears of joy. She doesn't even listen to the words that are sliding from his mouth, no. She can't listen to it. Her mind won't allow her to take it in. She is so set on this horse being Destrier. Panic takes over officially, as if she is seeing an allusion, and from her place, about fifty paces back, she rockets forward. "Destrier!" she calls, voice cracking from the emotions and tears that dare to attempt to choke her. "You're alive! You're alive!" A short sniffle, and she pulls up beside him, cautiously stretching her maw out in greeting, to brush against his hide should he allow it. - still forever too afraid to touch others without their complete consent. "I... I th-thought you were dead..." She squeezes her eyes shut as Valiance lands upon her withers and chirps in disdain with her overly emotional state. "I'm so glad you're okay. You are okay right? Right?"

Concern slowly begins to lace her voice. It was this concern, in fact, that had her (for the most part) ignoring the others around. He had to be okay. If he wasn't. If someone had ruined him! She needed him to be okay, for her sanity. Her family was broken in half - she would heal what she could. But, she didn't know how much of an injured soul she could actually put back together...

Image by Mockingale
Table by Moonstone Designs
When I'm ready to fall
You're the one always holding me up
With love

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#6
The collection of tall men grows in number as a third joins their party with far less grace than Dragomir had, the sound of his arrival drawing his ears and eyes toward the tree line as the painted stag plunges through, branches, leaves, and needles protruding from his mass of white hair and eyes bulging with what Dragomir can only describe as disbelief and elation’s odd child. The brief happiness he’d felt that his name was remembered in the mind of the knight fluttered away at the intense welling of emotions that rose within him as the chaotic arrival spoke the truth of his rushed appearance.

It hurts, in some ways, that his family was so far away and that he can almost see himself holding the same reaction towards Adalwulf had they both survived that horrid darkness, but it also makes him smile and feel warmth within himself that they could be reunited where he could not. There is also a question posing itself as a dam before his feelings, as there usually is in his mind; he wonders who this ones mother is, and how it was he had missed the fact that Destrier had had a son.

He had always assumed it has been only the black knight and his emerald, alone as himself. The realization that even such stoic and solemn men as this hardened soldier could find love, even if for the briefest of times, fills him with much hope for himself. He slips into himself as the reunion blooms into fruition, almost shy his denial of the embraces and tenderness before him, pondering the accent that flavor’s Destrier’s words, marking him as a foreigner to this land as he himself was, and while he was surely not from Isilme for he did not have the rolling gait to his tongue as his sire or Ricochet, it was comforting to see a stranger do so well here.

He had feared, ever since that first late morning when Mirage had walked into his life, that Helovia would devour strangers for breakfast and leave their bones to bleach in its Sun.

Returning to the present as the sound of hooves alerts him to the ending of the greeting embrace, he lifts his ears to catch the explanation of the large and odd wounds marring the normally sleek blackness of Destrier’s frame.

Humans? he thinks, no such creature rising to his mind, but he continues to listen despite not knowing precisely what devil this beast was, eyes roving the marks as he continues to explain. Killed in battle, given; had Destrier returned to a land of slave keepers? He searches his memory for any visuals to match what he is hearing, but finds none, and instead looks to the stallion’s son to see if he understands with a soft raising of his brows.

Either way, it sounded unpleasant and had left him in this state.

The next question to meet his ears is one that he is happy to have a mostly good answer for, as in fact most of their number is safe if Destrier is home and Semira has brought word of so many others. He had watched them steadily return as it became clear that Helovia was again at peace, and it filled him with much more faith that few were truly lost forever.

He moves to speak as Resplendence arrives, her small and opalescent figure dancing and weaving with elation at discovering an old friend at the border as shouts and cries mewl from her lips. She’s got crystals lingering in her eyes that don’t fall, he notes, and an ear falls back at the sheer level of exuberance that she displays; it reminds him of Kahlua, a sour thought at this point in the man’s life, and that Resplendence is one of her dear friends has not escaped him. Still, he’s smart enough not to be bitter at her, just towards her bubbles and froth at the moment – girls were all so ridiculous.

Waiting for Destrier to give consolation to her concerns before he speaks, his voice lifts even and deep through the air as he finds the words to explain just where they stood at this point in time. "Mirage and Lace both disappeared into the darkness," he explains, "but Semira brings word of Vikram and Smoke, and many others elsewhere in Loorien, and you are here. Few vanished that have not come home, and no bodies have been found to prove that they will not. It may be Mirage tutors beneath the stars, high in the Moon’s palace, for all we know."

That he had argued the opposite with Semira when he’d led her home slips by him as is apt to do in a young male mind, so deeply changed his opinions on the disappeared now that he saw someone whom he was sure to be dead and gone.

When would his Dragon Queen come walking through the gates?



Dragomir</style>
where light shines, shadows will stretch</style>
Credits
JETTSTOCK : SED-RAH-STOCK : GALAXIESANDDUST</style>
Wishlist | Table Tracker  

Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Luken Posts: 27
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.0 :: Three Years [Tallsun Born] HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Sparrow
#7
If I Shout and Can't Be Heard,
I Want to be Destroyed at Your Hands</style>

While I Can Still be Called "Me"

Of every response that Luken could have expected upon seeing his father's head jerk in his direction, his brown orbs focusing upon the young stud's body, seeing an emerald blur launch itself from Destrier's hide and towards him hadn't been it... But Luken didn't balk, or feel any fear of any kind, for he recognized the green dragon that protected his father just as fiercely as Destrier had protected him. Suli. It was Suli.

"Suli," the draft-mutt breathed, chocolate orbs closing as the female green proceeded to climb all over him in obvious joy. "I'm happy to see you, too." And he was, oh Gods, he was. Where Suli was, his noble father was never far behind, and that caused relief and joy to flood anew inside the young stallion's heart, filling his breast with warmth and love, feelings that he hadn't experienced in what seemed like a long, long time.

'Luken.' The simple, two syllables uttered by the war-torn Friesian's lips caused the said youth to snap his head back towards his father, eyes softening with unchecked emotion, ears swiveling forward to listen to any words that the steed may speak... But instead of words, came actions, and Luken preferred those anyway. As the distance between father and son were lessened, the paint-mutt remained still, eyes focused only on Destrier, and willingly he let himself be drawn into the strong stallion's embrace.

The youth's nostrils flared wide as he inhaled sharp, deep breaths of Destrier's familiar scent, allowing his eyes to slip shut in peace. Finally. Finally, they were together again. Even if it was just he and Destrier, and Suli of course, they were still a family. Repeatidly the boy rubbed his cheek upon any place he could reach, swallowing thickly. When he opened his mouth to speak, Luken's words came out choked and strained. "I missed you so much," he whispered, uncaring if the other in their midst overheard, "I'm so glad to see you again. I... I don't know where Laila is." And that hurt.

It had been his job since foalhood to look after his twin sister, and somewhere along the lines, along their path to becoming proud adults, he had failed. Wherever Laila was, whatever she was doing, Luken could only pray that she was safe and out of harms way, and that soon she would return home... But it didn't make the pain from her absence fade. It felt as though a part of his soul was missing, like the other half of his heart was just ripped away savagely, and the only thing left behind was a rotten, festering wound.

"I'm sorry..."

Because apologizing was all he could do. Would Destrier be angry? Or would he understand? Life hadn't been easy for anyone of Helovia, and many a poor soul had gone missing during these dark times... Even as Destrier seemed to collect himself and pull himself away, but not far, Luken felt comfort in the familiar weight of Suli perched upon his crown, nestled in the strands of his ivory, crimped forelock. Her purr was soothing, and Luken felt himself releasing a deep breath of past-held tension.

It was then that his father told his tale, where he had been, the tortures that he had experienced, and a deep, blood-boiling rage threatened to make Luken scowl. Humans? He had never met a 'human', and from the sounds of it, he never wanted to. What kind of monstrosities could be responsible for such misplaced persecution and misery?

Luken snorted, a hoof stamping with ill-hidden rage. "I say give them a taste of their own medicine..." He grumbled beneath his breath, brown eyes flicking upwards towards Suli before focusing back on the there and now. Aside from the painted stallion called Dragomir, a familiar beauty soon joined them. It was Resplendence; the gentle, nervous mare that Luken briefly remembered from all those suns ago when they went bone hunting in the marsh. Despite not knowing her very well, Luken had genuinely enjoyed her company, albeit however briefly it had been, and seeing her now was also a relief.

With Resplendence there, they could get Destrier the medical care that he needed.


Destrier Posts: 180
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 16 HP: 65.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Suli :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath & Merlin :: Plain Black Dragon :: Frost Breath Dingo
#8

we are like birds of a feather
we are two hearts joined together
we will be forever as one
my brother under the sun </style>



Luken claims he knows not where Laila is; a claim that has my already aching heart threatening to come undone completely. The twins had always been quite dependent, and although I knew that my daughter was strong in both mind and body, I couldn't help the terror that gripped my heart as I thought of her. Helovia was a huge place, and it would be nearly impossible for me to find her. But... I would, if it came down to it, and scour every single corner of Helovia if I had to.

Looking to my pale son, my own bister eyes glazed with sadness, I sucked down a deep breath and then let it out slowly, reaching out to press my muzzle gently into the young stallion's neck. "I missed you, too," I confided softly, pressing my head gently against that of Luken's if he allowed it, happy that my boy was here and safe in the Edge, before lifting my head once more. "It isn't your fault, Luken... We'll go and find her, I promise." A promise I would keep for sure this time, and when we did find her, because I would make sure we did... I could only hope that she'd be alive and happy.

It wasn't any surprise that none of my family knew what exactly humans were. None had ever stepped foot into Helovia, at least to my knowledge, and that was perhaps for the best. I could only imagine what horrors would befall man and equine, especially if they were anything like the ones in Alryne. Dragomir remained quiet at my explanation, but it hardly bothered me. The last thing I wanted to speak or think of was that foul place that had ruined my once-home. Luken's display would have warranted him more than the somewhat reprimanding look I shot him, but the arrival of another stole my attention before I could speak.

The dun I knew as Resplendence was a refreshing sight to see. I remembered her well, from all the meetings to the time she had helped me collect dragon bones from the marsh, and the time I had aided in hauling her herbal box from the Edge to the caves. Her cracking exclamations had me briefly worried for her wellbeing, she finally comes to a stop and reaches for me, an action I gladly returned by gently bumping my muzzle to her own. "I'm sorry," I decided to say first, knowing those simple words could never right the wrong I had made but uncertain what else to say. "I'll make it right, though, I swear... And I'm alright, save for some scratches here and there. Maybe you know something that can help close them up a bit faster?"

Dragonmir spoke then, speaking words I had hoped I wouldn't have to hear. Mirage and Lace, two I knew little of but still admired a great deal, had vanished in the darkness. I didn't wish to think of them really gone, but for now, there was no way of truly being able to tell. "She would serve her well," I remarked of our Goddess, clearly disliking the thought of our Queen being gone, but Mirage had always loved the Moon like no other.

"But, if not Mirage," I asked then, furrowing my brows deeply in curiosity, "Then who wears the crown now?"

"Speak."




image by blu | table code by tamme


You may attack and use magic on Des at any time for any reason.

HP: 66.5

Dragomir Posts: 275
World's Edge Glazier atk: 6 | def: 9 | dam: 5
Stallion :: Equine :: 17" :: 7 HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Bunnie
#9
Dragomir stands rather quietly amidst all the bustle, finding that the number of those present leaves him with very little to input aside from what is left out by the others. There is plenty of emotion here, which is fine by him – he only knows Destrier as a distant but well respected member of his herd, someone who had always been helpful when help was needed, and so he has nothing in comparison to the flood of love that ripples from both the friesian’s son and Resplendence.

There is something about a girl who is missing, which makes Dragomir sad and pulls his ears down either side of his head. It never stops hurting to hear that his herd-mates, however distant he was from them, had suffered so much during the times of darkness. He had very little to lose and still had suffered its wrath – Semira had gone, and so had Mirage, and only one had come home. But to lose a true family member, not just friends and mentors discovered on the trails of life?

It would be less painful to lose an eye, of this he is sure. He can hear it in their voices, more pungent its message to the young man than the reunion of father and son had been. Whoever Laila is, he hopes they find her – and he hopes that no one he knows will ever have to lose anyone again in such a way if something terrible has befallen her.

The discussion of healing runs idly by the crafter, who respects the gardeners for their task but finds that he is too large and grows too lost in his thoughts to be anything more benevolent than doom to the plants beneath him. He would like to learn, and had tried at one point beneath the healer, Smoke – but all he was good at was harvesting things already grown, not giving life to seeds as Alysanne and Resplendence did.

He nods solemnly once the conversation turns to the lost of the Edge, finding much truth in the statement but little solace. However, a question quickly floods into the dark void that begins to grow inside his heart as he dwells on Mirage, and he returns to the present and finds a smile on his face that hides his inner pain well enough for the moment. "Kahlua and Kaj," he says, having giving up on his woe over the Queen’s lack of love for him, feeling the pride swell in him as he says their names that he hopes makes it to his face. While they are not the Dragon Queen, who ruled alone much of the time and did not need one another as the current rulers do, he finds that together they will do well by the Edge. He holds no more delusions that Kahlua is wise or ponderous, but he does believe that Kaj is what he once believed Kahlua to be, and no matter how intelligent or not the Queen may be, her heart was true and her soul purely dedicated the practice of peace.

Perhaps that was why he loved her – she gleamed even in shadow.

He chases the thought away.

He had loved her.

Even when he knows it is only a lie he tells himself to heal.



Dragomir</style>
where light shines, shadows will stretch</style>
Credits
JETTSTOCK : SED-RAH-STOCK : GALAXIESANDDUST</style>
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Any violence/magic is allowed to be used upon Dragomir at anytime, permitting it doesn't kill or seriously maim him without my permission <3

Resplendence Posts: 466
Hidden Account atk: 4.5 | def: 8 | dam: 5.5
Mare :: Equine :: 14.1 hh :: eight (ages in frostfall) HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Valiance :: Common Red Dragon :: Fire Breath Abba
#10
Happy tears were falling for once. Her family was returning. They were finally returning to her so that everything could be right again. As she reaches for him, craving his touch to prove to herself that he really is there he bumps his maw to hers and the tears fall a little bit harder. She couldn't believe it. She just, she couldn’t believe that he was back.

Then, as the apology slips from his lips Res can only shake her head. "No. No. It is I who should be apologizing for crying like this - I just can't believe it's…. Real…" she whispers before he says that he is going to make it all right, and says he only has a few scratches. He asks if she has anything to close them up faster and she can only shake her head. "No salves to put on it, just some shadows," she mused, tilting her head to the side before she began to prod around the different arches and dips of his frame, feeling each muscle to see what his reaction would be to the pressure.

And, when content, while Dragomir explained the situation with Mirage and Lace being gone, she took a step back. Officially convinced that Destrier was present and with injuries she felt the comforting pull of the moon as the wind began to slide in. First it was just the wind, then it was the darkness forming on the wind until shadows were wrapping around each of his wounded areas in order to suck out the possibilities of infections and stitch up his wounds. And, should he have any sore or pulled muscles, the shadows also loosened them, acting much like a massage all along his body. Then, to finish it all, she allowed some of her energy to flow from her (just a little bit, not enough to make her pass out should she need it to also aid in healing Luken) and into Destrier to revive him after his long journey.

Carefully, she turned to Luken, offering her maw in welcome as well. "Luken, are you injured as well?" she questioned, allowing her head to tilt to the side in her inquiry.

Everyone must be whole again. She needed her family whole.


Thanks for skipping me, Bunnie :P
@[Luken] - since we're kinda... outta order now XD
Resplendence
i don't want you to leave, will you hold my hand
x - x
When I'm ready to fall
You're the one always holding me up
With love

Luken Posts: 27
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7
Stallion :: Equine :: 17.0 :: Three Years [Tallsun Born] HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE
Sparrow
#11
If I Shout and Can't Be Heard,
I Want to be Destroyed at Your Hands</style>

While I Can Still be Called "Me"

The moment that Resplendence moved closer to heal Destrier's wounds, I pressed my lips against my father's shoulder in a gentle, loving action, wanting to tell him with physicalities instead of words that I would not be far. I wanted him to know, deep down, that I was done being a poor son and done abandoning him... No more. I would stay here, by his side, until he knew that I wouldn't be leaving again. Large hooves shifted and moved my large frame away from the ebonite body of my father, and I was content to watch as Resplendence came forward and began to probe and palpate my Pa's sides, assessing the damage that the humans had done in the way that only a trained medic could.

The magic that seemed to dance through the sky and help mend Destrier's wounds and agonies reminded me of my own quest that I needed to get underway, but I kept quiet, even though it was hard to ignore the painful marking that marred my right shoulder. It was my burden to carry, however, and I carried it with pride. Not many a soul could obtain a chance to carry the magic of the mighty Sun.

As Resplendence turned her dainty head in my direction, I swallowed, allowing a gentle, yet thankful smile to cross my lips. My mind drifted off to a time, seasons ago, when we had all ventured to the Marsh in search for dragon bones, and how I had thought that the mare was the most lovely of creatures... Well, needless to say that opinion still held itself in my mind, especially now that she had become our Moon Doctor. She was a gentle thing, and honestly I couldn't think of anything else that would fit Resplendence better than being a Doctor.

"No, Ma'am," I said in response with a gentle tone, but gratefully I took a step towards her and brushed my muzzle against her own in a brief display of affection, "No, I'm alright. Thank you, though." With that, I moved away from the rabicano dun, chocolate eyes focusing once more on the impressive stature of my father. "Pa? How are you feeling now? Did Miss Resplendence's magic help?"

Because damnit, I hoped it did, and although I was a forgiving creature at heart, I couldn't help the rage that bubbled in my painted breast at the thought of the humans that dared harm my Pa.



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