Shattered Glass [Nasreen]

the Rift

[OPEN] Shattered Glass [Nasreen]

Nasreen Posts: 160

Up For Adoption

Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1 hh :: 6 (Orangemoon)

Adoptable

#17

08-24-2014, 06:31 AM

Your apology does not impress the guard; that much is apparent when he charges at you and Kahlua with a roar that can best be described as terrifying. A high-pitched squeal echoes in the icy passage as you slip and scramble on the ice in your panic-stricken attempt to flee the scene. However, it is a venture in which you ultimately fail, not only because the space is narrow and you are clumsy, but because your guard comes charging into the hall. Understandably, this causes a bit of a traffic jam—a passage meant for two at most is now accommodating two Helovians and two ice stags, and the latter pair seems to be locked in a battle royale. To add to the confusion, Kahlua does not want to be here any more than you do, and the skirmish sends her backwards, presumably towards the exit…and right into you.

With Kahlua crowding you, you find yourself wedged awkwardly against the ice, positioned in a way that both bars escape and gives you the perfect view of the very fight you were trying to avoid. Irony is cruel, isn’t it? At first, you try closing your eyes; for though you have never seen a real fight before, you fear for your guide’s safety. Something about the tone of their exchange and this foreboding passage tells you that this is no courtyard spar of nobles. From the way they were going at it, you’d think it was a matter of life and death! Yet you can’t keep your eyes shut for long. Perhaps it is the worry that pries them apart, or perhaps it is mere morbid fascination, but there is also something hauntingly beautiful about the way their two misty figures collide and the way clash of ice against ice sounds as their antlers interlock.

You can’t say how long the duel lasts or even why it stops, so foreign to you are the ways of the fight, but when the guard grants your stag passage, you scuttle after him with Kahlua. After that, you’re not eager to linger here, and you rather hope that wherever he is leading you isn’t as scary as the place you have just left. And it seems that on one count, your wish is granted: as soon as you follow your guide through the next arch, beautiful rolling hills meet the eye, verdant and fertile. If you hadn’t just learned the hard way that it is best not to stray from the mist-creature’s side, you would be running and racing over the grass by now. As it is, you are tempted, but you stick close to Kahlua. Even in a place as magical as this, there is no telling what lurks around the next corner.

However, what actually rests on the soft grass just ahead of you seems to be the antithesis of dangerous: a tiny fawn and a stormy-eyed mist-doe await you, and you peek out from behind your guide with renewed curiosity. “Ulwe?” the doe asks, and your ears loll to the sides in uncertainty, unable to make out what she is saying. When the stag steps forward, you are surprised—is that his name, then? Or does it mean something else entirely? Not wishing to be rude, even by accident, you step forward too.

That is when you catch a better glimpse of the fawn. It is a puzzling little thing, for its body is half beast and half mist. But first and foremost, it appears sickly. Its breathing is labored, and every once in a while, its white flag of a tail flickers listlessly, as if the creature is struggling with fever. Face drawn with concern, you raise your eyes to the doe. What is to be done for the child? Can anything be done? The thought makes your chest constrict rapidly; suddenly you realize that you have seen sickness like this before. The raspy breathing, the closed eyes…this is how Amaya looked before she—

“Heeee haaas broooought yoooooou, hooooorses toooo saaaaave,” the female offers, meeting your gaze. She gestures to the fawn on the ground, but you’re looking around. She can’t mean you, can she? And then the horrible realization dawns on you—oh gods, they must have made some mistake. Kahlua, perhaps, was meant to be here (after all, she is the queen!), but you are fairly certain that it is not you they wanted. They wanted what’s-her-name, Resplendence, Quilly’s latest fling, the healer, not you. You cannot save this child! …you couldn’t even save Amaya, a small voice reminds you. You couldn’t save her, and now she’s dead.

“Leeeeeeasssse,” Ulwe begs, only making it worse. “Heeeelp usssss,” the doe implores, with an expression of desperation and hope that tears your heart in two. “Cryyyy—” But you never hear the rest, because in that moment, everything seems to happen at once. “I can’t!” you interrupt brokenly, unable to meet their eyes, “You’ve made a mistake; I’m not a healer! I don’t know how to fix—” And then Kahlua is interrupting you with an outburst of her own. “Oh Nasreen!” she sobs, and you turn to her helplessly, eyes pleading with her to help you explain. But her tears are for nothing of the sort, it seems. “I don’t deserve to be here! I don’t deserve all this beauty!” she wails, and you feel the desperation beginning to claw its way up your throat. What does this have to do with anything? “Kahlua! Tell them that I’m not the one that they need!” you try to plead above her clamor, panic pitching your voice high and tight. She’s not listening. “Aurelia’s challenge, and her snake. Oh Nasreen, the little snake…!” You can feel yourself growing increasingly afraid and frustrated as she rambles on, nearly in hysterics. Why won’t she help you?! “…I didn’t mean it at all,” she’s bawling, and the bubbling mess of fear, guilt, and confusion finally boils over just as she stutters her confession: “But I killed it!”

“I don’t CARE!” you cry as the dam in your chest releases, and your eyes stream with tears of their own. “Oh, gods help us, Kahlua, it doesn’t matter right now, can’t you see? They want us to fix him, but I don’t know how! They need Resplendence—tell them they need Resplendence, or as sure as we’re standing here, he’s going to die!” Overwhelmed, bitter sobs set your chest heaving and your voice shaking. Why did they bring you here? You cannot watch Amaya die all over again—why, oh why did they have to pick you? Irony is cruel indeed.

@[Random Event]

Apologies to all for such a long, long wait!