"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
07-02-2014, 01:14 PM (This post was last modified: 08-04-2014, 09:47 AM by Midas.)
Cashmere
It's quite a journey from the Veins of the Gods and their glowing azure to the beautiful summer view in the Falls. Earthbound as I am, it has taken me a few days to make my way home from my meeting with the Earth God. Though the meeting was disappointing, I think I more fully understand the task that has been given to me. I need to really understand not just the tasks of those gifted with crafting magic, but how it changes them, what it does to their character, their essence. How does the magic of Helovia change who we are and shape what we become? As I walked through the Thistle Meadow I knew exactly who I was going to see first, my very own King Midas. I know he has crafting magic, and he is, in my mind, like a father figure to me. I want to know more about his magic, in part because of this quest, in part because he is assisting with the tasks that he himself gave to me - the building of the prison cells in the cliff walls. And I want to see him first beyond all others. He for certain can share his wisdom and help me understand my shortcomings and what I can do now to do better. I am determined to succeed, and show myself and the Earth God that I am worthy of his blessing and the warmth with which he has treated me thus far.
When I finally arrive in the Falls, I am a bundle of emotions: weary, nervous, excited. Anticipation fills my veins. I hope that Midas can somehow ease the tension that is wreaking havoc on my body. I follow the treacherous path down from the cliffs, careful of the rolling pebbles that slip beneath my toes. I go slowly enough so that my footing is stable, but with the nerves I've got now, this surely isn't helping. When I reach the bottom, I walk over to the nearby pool that is formed by the waterfall coming from above. As I stand by it and look at my reflection, I see how disappointment laced with anticipation is affecting me. My eyes have taken on a somewhat wild look - much different from my normal calm. The Voice inside cackles - I'm more susceptible to her when I'm like this, but she's behaving very well. Why? I have no idea. I lift my head and look out at the valley.
Midas? I call gently, hoping that the wind will come and carry my voice. I'm not sure I have the energy to search for him, or use my lungs enough to project. I pray that he will hear my call, and come to rescue me and reassure me. Please Midas.. I'm so vulnerable right now. What a world..
Cashmere. She has been one of the few that I’d come to truly care for these past trying months; the dappled lass had a kind heart, a servants spirit. She’d been around to help me finish a task for Earth, a favor that I still owed gratitude and payment. It was from my patrolling position in the cliffs that I witnessed her approach to our entrance, for many long moments my eyes simply lingered. Keeping watch as a silent guardian. It wasn’t uncommon for herdfolk to leave Hidden Falls and thus I simply assumed she had went on some pilgrimage and was finally returning home.
I heard the whisper of my name, her voice stirred this flesh from its sentry duty and down toward the lower valleys. Feathers drifted upon the breeze until I’d come to rest nearby with the lightest of scraps upon soil, “Welcome home, Cashmere.” There is grin upon muzzle, and it can’t be called anything other than bright and the smile in my eyes is full of good humor. Her path worn appearance doesn’t tarnish my intent, I lean forward without caution, stepping to fall in line beside the muddy bank. Velvet stretches toward her face, seeking the intimate connection that we often sought to solidify the bond of kin meeting kin. “Is everything alright?” tone softens from building concern and my wandering eyes travel across the fleshy parts of her taller frame—searching for a physical mishap that might explain why she’d called upon me.
To my great relief, Midas hears my exhalation. As prey animals, we have pretty good hearing, but I was awfully quiet in my calling. He must have been nearby, to hear me as such. He comes upon me from behind, and is gentle in his approach. I do appreciate his leadership and companionship. I trust him, perhaps more than I trust anyone else. (Well, I'm not so sure.. Sohalia is probably the one I trust the most.) 'Welcome home, Cashmere.' He greets me, and I realize he must have seen me entering the homeland. He extends his soft muzzle to mine, and I return the gentle greeting that he offers me. The velvet touch softens the angst that I realize has been building up inside me, and the dam bursts. I let out a dry sob, tears not able to keep up with the emotion that comes so fast.
I went to the Veins. The Earth God.. he told me that the quest I had done.. I had not done well enough. He sent me back on another. I feel so much shame. I press my face against his shoulder (if he will allow me), trying to hide the tears that are finally falling as I speak. My pride is crushed, ashamed of my shortcomings. Though I resolved to try harder than before, and to not let it get to me.. I cannot help but feel that I have failed. The Voice inside of me smirks. She likes seeing me down and beating myself up; I think it makes her job easier. Though I've wondered where she's been lately, I can see that she's just been sitting back and watching me ruin myself. Figures. I pull my head back and try to suck back my tears and toughen up. I don't feel like giving the Voice the satisfaction of seeing me melt down. Besides, my king is here comforting me and I don't need him thinking that I am so weak. I snuffle, trying to control the runny liquid that comes from my eyes and my nose. Pathetic, really, but I can't seem to control it. Will Midas understand?
She sighed, deeply and without reserve. I frowned, previous light hearted smile had already started falling aside to bring forth concern for my herd sister. Luckily I wouldn’t be the one pressing for an answer, Cashmere readily spoke--easing into the conversation as though it was weighted heavy upon her heart and not more than a single moment could pass without some relief. Ears craned her direction, and muzzle drifted toward the nearest side of her cheek. Offering comfort through listening and being physically present.
The young mason explained that our patron god had entrusted her with a task and the job wasn’t completed to satisfaction. She seems rather distressed by this, dappled grey face turns, pressing her wet fur against my shoulder (minding the horn of course.) I lift the nearest wing, brushing the sun tipped feathers gently across her spine; ebony neck cranes round and simply offers me a position to cradle her delicate skull.
For one rare moment there are no sounds except the twin beating of cantering hearts and our off kilter breathing. Only when the dappled lady withdraws do I also pull back, honeyed pits shifting to meet those troubled orbs with compassion and parental understanding. If only she’d hear the song that played in this heart, my little sister might witness a cry of, ‘Ye can’t be strong all the time; sometimes failure makes it alright to shed the walls of our restraint.’ Instead I whispered, “Will ye tell me of this quest?”feathers retracted into their proper sheath as this patched frame settled back to listen.
He is kind to let me rest my head against his shoulder, and I make sure that I don't accidentally stab him with my horn. I back away and try to blink back the tears as they slow, staining my cheeks a darker grey. I've crumpled like a house of cards, not giving a second's resistance to spilling all that troubles me. His silent reassurance is something that I try to internalize, to let myself absorb the idea that it will be alright. Everything will be alright, even when a God is disappointed in you. But his next question, I'm still not sure about whether I want to fully disclose. But of course I do, who am I kidding? I let out a deep sigh. Now I am tasked with.. understanding what it feels like to have and use crafting magic. Physically, emotionally. What it means to those that use it. I am supposed to find two individuals who can craft. It sounds so simple, but I can't help but be afraid that I will fail again. That somehow I don't really understand the task set before me. Perhaps Midas can help me shed light on what I need to do.
Of course, it's not lost on me that Midas has some crafting magic of his own. He can craft gold, right? Maybe he will consent to help me in my efforts. Even if he doesn't, just having his calming presence and guidance is a boon to my sanity. I pray that he doesn't find me a burden - a young child lost in her way, asking (begging?) for assistance. Honestly, I can only hope.
Walk. Talk.
WC: 274
OOC: 'paternal understanding'.. well I guess that clears THAT up xD also. WHERE THE MUSE.
Cashmere quieted beneath my gaze, steadying herself though seemingly on the verge of releasing more tears. Her words of explanation are simple enough—though understanding magic was much more difficult than many folk realized. Yar, they often wielded great and powerful talents, but knew of nothing more than the gain they’d received from those particular abilities. Never mind the privilege of understanding where such energy drew from, and why. Fina shifted along my spine, preening her feathers and listening with uncommon attentiveness.
I gently pushed a lock of hair from her cheek, bushing the tendril aside so that I might gaze upon those trusting eyes that were confiding in me. “Aye,” soft vocals began, “Magic, certainly of the crafting sort, is among the most wonderful and dangerous of talents.” She’d obviously never felt the tug of earth cawing for attention and the vision of something simple turning into a grand object of wondrous grace; she’d never heard the song of a thousand elements crying their legendary hymns to heaven. Weren’t we ourselves fashioned from the soil? Later, we’d return. It was only truth that even the stones scattering yon mountains would carry some traces of former life. Just as the ground rejoiced, so did the water and plants. “I craft, say true. Among other things.”
“Ye has a direct line with earth, thee has energy that stems from his grace,” I paused, “But none that stems from thee? From earth and thees own soul?” To explain something as delicate as this required me to understand what exactly Cashmere could do.
His touch is gentle and he lays aside the wisps of grey that fall over my soft chocolate eyes. They shine with the fresh tears that I've shed, but show all the questions that I have inside, the turmoil that bubbles there and threatens to consume me. Of course it doesn't help that the Voice still lurks inside me, biding her time. Now and then, I think that maybe she has left me, leaving me a whole, cured being. But she stirs inside me, a sly beast lying in wait, and though she leaves me be for now, I know that our battle together is not over. His words draw me away from said battle. Fina the Phoenix resides on his back, looking now and then between me and her companion. The painted stallion is kind to me, and does not judge me for my lack of understanding or experience with the Gods and with magic. What he says is true, I do have the Earth God's magic already coursing through my veins. I draw upon his strength to create from stone, but there is something.. different about it for me. Perhaps because it is not my natural element, stone that is, that I do not feel the elation or inspiration that some might expect. I feel strength and power, as if suddenly my whole body has bulked up with the might of a God. I wonder if Elsa feels the same way when she channels the mighty God's power.
Midas poses an interesting question, and at first, I'm not sure how to answer. I stay quiet, offering no umm's or er's as I contemplate how I shall answer. A sigh passes through my lips and my head drops a few inches. Not with the stone crafting that I do as a Mason. Perhaps because it is not my natural element? I feel strong and powerful, but the creativity and intuition that I might hope for is absent. I pause as a dangerous possibility dawns on my poor, worn mind. Am I not meant to be a crafter? Is this not my path? I pray it isn't true. I have always wanted to make things, and it is true that I get joy when I complete any sort of project. But it has not been the journey that I might have first expected. Is there something wrong with me? Some inadequacy that I have not foreseen let alone addressed? The Voice rumbles inside of me, threatening to add her own cynical, bully opinion to the conversation. She does not have to speak for me to know what she would say: she would confirm my inadequacy, my inexperience, and my unworthiness. My insecurities do her job for her.
07-15-2014, 01:03 PM (This post was last modified: 07-21-2014, 11:07 AM by Midas.)
Yar, her insecurity becomes painfully obvious. I’m finding myself looking at her and gazing past the fretful eyes into a time when Cera had questioned his abilities—aye, say true, he probably still did. Who was to say that this little woman didn’t have a future with crafting; there had been a time when I’d never considered metal work as a journey that would eventually overtake my steps. Yet, it had all the same.
“Nay,” I voiced softly but firmly. “I can’t answer that. Only ye will know if such magic is meant to stir within ye.” When the gods granted us power, it wasn’t simply an increase to our strength or agility—or even abilities. More so the action awakened a small fraction of our minds, allowed us to sense what these bodies were capable of.
Just as a gangly yearling wouldn’t realize his/her full potential until they’d become a seasoned vet. We were like sucking babes, completely unaware until having actually crossed said threshold. “Thee will grow naturally into power. Tis the only way ye will know.” I moved on, progressing toward answering her first question—and perhaps aiding in the completion of this quest.
“Earth said to understand how it feels to craft? Physically and emotionally?”
A small grin curled my lips, the gesture was mainly out of an effort to lighten her heart, “Physically, it takes great strength of both mind and body to control magic. Tis great wisdom to practice and meditate often—for some crafting abilities take years to fully mature within our lacking mortal bodies and fragile minds.”
“For me,” my smile grew, “There is no greater joy than nurturing the fruit of our labor.” Every good designer/mason could understand the fulfillment of completing their tasks.
As our conversation emerges and develops, I know that I've come to the right soul for finding comfort and knowledge - guidance. His words are a salve to my mind and to my heart, like aloe to a burn, antibiotic to a cut. Though he makes no promises as to my growth or learning, or even what I'm meant to be, his words still comfort me. Yes.. I know that I am meant to be a crafter. It is inside me, deep, waiting to be nurtured, to be understood. I can tell this is something he's given thought to regarding magic in others, and his words are not simple speculation or off the top of his head. They are deep, meaningful. Though I know I have not yet grown into what I know is inside me, the seeds are there. With time and care, I may become a great crafter, capable of manipulating elements and finding that when I craft I become whole. It is something that I should clearly explore.. to find what really inspires me, not just the jobs that are put in front of me. It's creativity that I need to use, not just powers.
He moves on to answer my questions, and I perk up, happy that someone I care about (more dearly perhaps than I realize) is helping me with something so important. Midas is older than I, more experienced, wiser, and so much more knowledgable. His smile does its job, and I feel the weight that I've been bearing slowly slipping from my shoulders. He recommends meditation to calm and strengthen my mind and body so that I might be able to better prepare myself for the use of magic. He's right - from my little experience so far, crafting has taken it out of me, physically and mentally. After working on the cells I've needed extensive rest. And the joy is something I've felt as well. Joy from completion of a task, fulfillment of the mental image that we've created for our goals. I consider his words, noticing the similarities between how he feels and how I've felt. Those things I have felt, too, but perhaps not as fully as you have. I am so inexperienced. I cock my head to the side a little in thought as another question comes to mind. Do you feel any... spiritual connection with the Earth when you craft?
She lightens, and my heart grows glad for the assurance I’m able to provide. Cashmere answers and asks me another question, this time wondering on the spiritual contention between myself and earth. I lapse into a brief silence, brows narrowing, features an outward sign of pondering on how to answer the young heart with truth and a greater wisdom than I currently felt capable of possessing. “Yar.” There was a connection. A strong one. But how to describe such a thing with moral words? It was like trying to taste the wind or understand how our souls felt when the world glided beneath us.
Grant me the permission to speak freely, I prayed with absolute silence. “Aye, there is a connection. Ye stands as a child compared to him, a suckling babe who is barely able to intake breath without gasp.”
“It is humbling,” I said finally, never breaking her stare, “Yon lord becomes a parent and ye a dutiful son or daughter. They are the ones who open thee to magic; alone ye is incapable of widening the mind.” By ‘they’, I meant the lords of Helovia. Not all of us were children of earth, some chose to seek nourishment from sun, moon and time. “The earth is a living thing Cashmere. It has a heartbeat and is thriving in a balance—just as we do.” Would she be able to hear the jingling cry of streams as they bubble over stones on their way to larger bodies of water? Or the thundering drums of mountains shattering beneath the weight of a typhoon.
His words bring wisdom to me, and even if he may be unsure of his words, I am not. I have no doubt that he knows what he is talking about, and I wonder if I can somehow internalize this knowledge, this sentiment, these feelings. What do I know, young femme that I am? I can see why the Earth God was disappointed in me, though the hurt is still fresh and painful. I sigh a world-weary sigh, though of course what do I know of the world's troubles? Nothing, really nothing. But that does not lessen the things I feel. I wonder if the Voice will kick me while I'm down. She has yet to speak, and I take comfort in that. Maybe I can prove her wrong, and prove Midas right. Midas speaks of the parental role that the Earth God takes in our lives, and I absolutely agree. I do feel that the Earth is like a father to me, and perhaps that is why disappointing him cuts do deeply. I must not let such a wound grow septic - I must rise up and above, treat it as necessary, and recover. That is what I am doing here, with Midas and soon with.. well, another crafter, whomever it may be.
I stand silent for the moment, and lower my head to the ground, nostrils flaring as I take in the earthy scent. I wonder if I'm not hallucinating the thrum of the earth, of life, flowing through the veins of the earth, rumbling up my legs and into my core. Perhaps it is the connection that I have now with Earth, the herd crafting magic that grants me this.. sensation. Maybe it isn't just a hallucination. Though of course I can't say for sure. I'm fairly certain that I'm not completely sane, so hallucinations definitely could be a possibility. But this... well.. as light as the touch is, it comforts me as well as Midas's words do. Perhaps I'm on the right track after all. May the Earth wrap me in his wellbeing and love and guide me to enlightenment. I lift my head again and rise to meet Midas's gaze once more. I believe... I understand now. I extend my muzzle to his, the thrum in my body settling into my mind and a sort of peacefulness comes over me. You have done my heart and mind a world of good, my friend.
Earth wanted to teach this woman something about magic, about life; hopefully my fragments of confusion would be enough to pass for his wisdom and wishes. Perhaps she’d learn something from all this and move on to complete this mission as a victory, maybe not. It wasn’t my place to offer judgment, but I sincerely prayed that my little sister found her talent. Found that stirring, nourished it to life.
Her crown falls forward, I gaze politely away, kindly and silently waiting for another question to emerge. Cashmere looked up a moment later, stretching muzzle up and out to feel tangible warmth and physical connection. Freely my snout shifted forward, gently blowing hot whiffs of air in her direction. She thanks me and my lips curl into an approving beam, “I’m glad.” Perhaps I could help further, there were others in this land who could craft. I thought of one in particular, a pale mare who’d spent the majority of her life creating trinkets and works of art for the sake of herdfolk and others, “Ye might find more answers outside the herd; Sohalia currently resides as Saltana in Dragon’s Throat. We stand as their allies.”
“Magic grows strong within her – should ye see a need for greater understanding…seek an audience with her.” They were my kin and our allies, surely Cashmere would be welcome at their border. Neck bent, lips spread apart, rising toward the bend of my right wing. The appendage rose, lifting so that I might be granted easy access. Teeth closed around a golden secondary, one quick yank and the loose feather came free. Careful not to crush the fragile plume, I shifted it over and released at Cashmere’s feet. “Show this to the guards as proof of a tie with Hidden Falls.”
Hot whiffs of air that float from his nostrils to mine, and the skin there crinkles, the sensation odd but amusing. A giggle slips past my lips and my cheerfulness is clearly returning. Midas is already suggesting someone else to find, to learn about crafting. This is good for me, of course, because the Earth wants me to find more than just one who has crafting magic of his or her own. I search my memory.. Oh. I told him that I needed to find two. Sad, that I had forgotten my own words so quickly! He suggests going to see Sohalia in the Throat. Does he know that I have already been to the Throat an talked to her? Sohalia is one of my truest friends, though she may not know it. But I've talked to her, and I wonder, does she have crafting magic of her own, or does she just have rank magic?
I visited her before... can she craft without rank magic? The Earth was very specific. I smile, and it is clear that I am deep in contemplation. I would enjoy seeing her again, but I thought maybe to play it safe the Earth God might like me to see someone I have not visited before. Before I say anything else, however, Midas is reaching under his wing, and returns to me with a golden feather, encouraging me to show it to the Earth god. I beam at him and accept it gracefully, taking it in my lips and turning to weave it into my dark gray mane. I turn back to him, my smile and cocked ears a prompt for another suggestion for a crafter.
Her question was considered and after a moment I grinned, undaunted and encouraging, “She knows much about the art of craft,” considering the pale mare had governed as our ranking mason for years, “though I know little about her natural talent,” I’d only seen her craft once or twice before and those times had been from a distance. Of course there were countless others who bore an earthy talent for the art, “I’ve met a mason who could form leather from the skin of animals. His name was Finn; though I’d imagine his aid would be hard to come by – I’ve not seen the fellow since the sickness came to our home.”
She might find that this information wasn’t helpful at this particular moment...unless luck happened to throw him our way. But it was still useful intelligence, “As ye knows, Elsa carries the inborn ability to naturally form ice.”
“Ye might gain knowledge from her,” our comason was seemingly young, though talented in her mental understanding of magic, I honestly didn’t know how much help she’d be willing to give. Some guidance was better than nothing at all; then again, I considered silently with brows dipping forward to furrow, poor guidance could be worse. Shoulders heaved into a shrug, pools sheepishly blinking and gazing past Cashmere to some point far ahead in the forest, “If ye favors traveling, perhaps another crafter will be placed astride path.” I’d encountered many a talented creature by simply traveling the hills and valleys, “Pray on it. I’m sure Earth will not leave ye alone in this.”
There is nothing about Midas that seems to waver as I point out potential flaws in his ideas. It brings a smile to my face that his determination remains strong. I have suggested that perhaps Sohalia isn't the best choice for me, although I would love to see her again. He seems to disagree, and I think that if I have no other choices I might go see my dear friend. I sigh slips from me out my nostrils. So many possibilities.. Midas mentions a Finn who can craft from leather.. the skin of animals. I am curious to say the least and think that he might be the one I seek out first. That being said, he may be the most difficult to find. Elsa is nearby and yes she has her ice magic, but I have wondered about Elsa's health lately and do not wish to bother her. I don't say this to Midas, but I think he may have concern for her as well. I would not want to bring poisonous thoughts such as these to the forefront of his mind. Midas shrugs his shoulders and heaves a sigh that seems to mirror mine, except heavier. Concern fills my eyes at first, worrying about my king, but it fades as I realize that he is only filled with thought, not any true worries. I extend my nose one last time to touch his. Midas, you have offered me so many words of kindness and help. I am so grateful and I know that coming to you was the right decision. I think I shall seek Finn, and if I find any along the way, all the better. I can't help my curiosity at learning of some new material. Excitement fills my eyes and seems to travel through my body like a happy virus. What more could I be hoping for? All will be going my way soon enough, and I am the one to orchestrate it, with the brilliant assistance of souls just like Midas. Waiting only for parting words and gestures, I turn and take my leave, headed out of the Falls in search of some stallion that crafts from the skin of animals. It sounds so crazy, and yet, there are so many crazy things in Helovia, is it really so crazy after all?
She brushed into me again, assuring and thankful. That warm woman musk is strong enough to tempt me toward her face with mutual response. The feeling of someone alive and flushed, I’d come to miss companionship, and even desired for it. Fina was good for keeping the pains of isolation at bay; and it was a self-made cage that I’d chosen to live in for years, so there really was no excuse. Always my ear bending toward the needs of others, never selfish in my desires for something, never breaking code for the heat that this male body craved night after night.
I smiled, the glimmer of contentment in my eyes glowed brightly; masking all spare thoughts from her vision. Cashmere verified that she’d seek out Finn, a long shot at the very least. Who knew where the lad was, or even if he was still within Helovia. But I felt confident and thought that perhaps she did as well, Earth would provide an answer.
The dappled mason turned to leave, eager to begin or otherwise going off to seek other company. I started to call out, lure her back to continue our conversation – but my tongue felt suddenly stiff between jaws. Instead I merely dipped crown toward chest, gently tapping the gem below, “Yar, long days and pleasant nights. May ye find desire filled to overflow.” This body also turned away, cranium angling toward the cliff-face I had descended from. That dark cliff that was my patrolling spot for the herd, and personal prison with a window.
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