the Rift


[OPEN] my silver lining;
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#1

i am the vanguard of your destruction
I don't want to wait anymore, I'm tired of looking for answers
Take me some place where there's music and there's laughter
I don't know if I'm scared of dying but I'm scared of living too fast, too slow


It had been so long ago—so very, very long ago.

He had known these slopes intimately, every nook and cranny, every path, tree, and rock. The land had whispered up through his hooves, through his legs, to his heart; it had wrapped itself around him, whispered in his ears and sighed through his veins. It had welcomed him, cherished him, and known him. Now, as he ascended towards its forests, it hushed and sang around him, curious, beckoning, wondering who this heavy-hearted stranger was.. and maybe, somewhere, dimly remembering the rhythm of his pace, and the cold touch of his frozen feet; but he was a stranger nonetheless.

Since that time so long ago he had not set foot upon the whitewashed slopes of the Edge. Since that time so long ago he had never walked among its trees, or felt the playful swirl of its mists around his legs, or seen the magnificent view over the ocean, the sun sparkling upon its wavy crests...

Three years. Back when he first came here to be crowned its King, three years was about half of the time he'd already lived; he'd barely been seven when he lost it. Now, he was approaching ten. It felt odd.

Mauja's slow climb paused, white neck turning to face back the way he had come. It was a lonely, winding path, scaling the cliff-face with the night-dark ocean at his back and stars wheeling overhead on a pitch black sky. In just an hour or so it would lighten, but for now, it was just him and the night. Him, halfway between heaven and earth, and the night all around. A slight smile curled the corner of his mouth upwards, and gliding on lonely wings the owls watched his progress. Nothing else stirred—no bird flew with those predators a-wing.

Three years. And now the circle was fulfilling, finally closing, and perhaps his aching heart would know some rest.

He moved again, lifted one hoof to put it down higher, hindquarters bunching as he kept on climbing. It was a long way down, but he had no fear of falling. Not anymore. He'd come to make his peace, and he would never be more ready—and yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of not being ready enough. There were so many things left unsaid, undone, if, if, if... if. All that stood between him and the blind wrath of the Qian was Kahlua, a girl of sunshine and flowers, and much as he hated to doubt her he didn't know if she was as fragile as the latter, or as fierce and burning as the former.

But it was too late now. He couldn't turn back, because then he would never come, and the further he climbed, the louder the Edge sang to him, with its pine-needle voice. Even now it smelled so familiar, enough to make his heart ache, and his mind race back to glorious times—times of hope, no matter how dark a hope, times of success, of.. of being more than just a vagrant. Times, when he'd not been disappointed in himself whatever he'd done, when life had been vibrant, full of taste and sound and something akin to joy. And it was easy to remember: to remember the control, the games, the mask he wore so well it might as well have been welded to his skin.

He missed that mask. He missed the calm and the composure, the patience, the confidence to toy with others and still be sure he'd come out on top.

He missed being Mauja—whatever the hell that meant.

The first tentative rays of sunlight arced over the horizon, skimming the white cliffs, touching his pale frame with uncertain hands, for who was this stranger staring at the brilliant refraction of a shattered glass wall—from within? Who was this stranger, a shadow of the moon standing in the break of dawn?

Pastel colors lined the blue, heralded the early sun, and Mauja blinked back the moisture from his eyes. He'd forgotten how beautiful the Edge was, with the thick fog curling around his legs, and the first morning rays sparkling in every single drop of dew. No matter where he had roamed, no matter how snowy the Basin and how snowy his past—this was home.

Irma came down through the trees to settle upon his withers. She'd only been an egg when it was lost; Diego came shortly thereafter, settling further back along his spine.

Home, with the earth thrumming beneath his hooves and the familiar, comforting weight of owls upon his back.

Home.. where he surely was not welcomed by any but Kahlua—and if he were to survive 'til nightfall, she needed to be his sun-spear, his shield, his defender. He drew in the cold, clear air; here, so close to the cliff's edge, it smelled strongly of the ocean, but mixed up with everything else that made the Edge the Edge.

Mauja turned his head back, to peer again at the shattered glass wall; it was tumbled down almost artfully, bright and nearly friendly in the early morning sunlight. It pleased him to see it so—to see this violation of his forest perished, undone, shattered and fragmented.

Slowly, he walked deeper, not far, just a few paces, perhaps ten, twenty, just living, breathing, remembering. But he was an unwanted guest, an interloper, and who knew what of the Qian remained here? His ears shifted, and he stopped, regal head raised and some of his posture regained—that easy grace with which he carried himself. The fog ceased its swirling, stilled as he stilled, and only the occasional flicking of his tail disturbed it.

"Kahlua?" he hedged, too quietly for it to carry; his best bet was to wait for a patrol, and find her that way.

Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I've got to go
There’s no starting over, no new beginnings, time races on
And you've just gotta keep on keeping on


[ Open for anyone due to its location! All I ask is that you reply in a timely fashion (~3-4 days) or I'll ask for you to be skipped. :) For @[Kahlua], but again, due to the location of the thread, you do not need to wait for her! ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Kahlua the Sunshower Posts: 662
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3hh :: 9 [Orangemoon] HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Khan :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Sevin
#2


k a h l u a

Looking very much like a hoarder, and not very much like a queen, the Sunshower wandered the Edge with her eclectic collection. On her head rode a mechanical scorpion, nestled contentedly into her forelock. With each step it clicked and whirred, keeping its balance and watching the world with lifeless eyes. It did little but move and click, as far as Kahlua could tell, but she loved it all the same and carried it with her for friendship and companionship here in the lonely wood. With so many gone to the island in the sky, the draconian forest was eerily quiet.

In her mouth, she carried her glass basket. Though it typically swayed to and fro with the bounciness of her jubilant trot, today it rested quietly as she walked along. Inside of it were several objects of interest. Lining the bottom were a variety of purple and yellow feathers, gifted to her by a hulking bear-sized owl that had, surprisingly, flown off after their interaction. How he had managed to lift himself into the air was beyond the queen, but he had flown with surprising grace off towards the horizon.

On top of the feathers there were two objects. One was made of metal, a small box with a button on top which, when pressed played a sweet little tune that filled the air and competed with the birds themselves for most lovely song. It was a gift from the crafter Ulrik, as the scorpion had been. As the music played, Kahlua hummed along with it, pondering words to put to the song she knew it almost by heart now, could hum it to herself when the music box stopped, she had played it so many times, but she had no words for the melody that seemed to speak to her heart.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly of her collection, settling cozily in the basket, was an iridescent egg, also gifted to her by the mysterious owl. But for all of the love she had for the inanimate objects, she could find only apprehension about what was in the egg. And though she would not throw it to the cold or let it lay uncared for somewhere else, she was (as of yet) only carrying it out of a sense of duty. She had always dreamed of having a companion, but now, with the prospect looming so closely, she was not so certain she knew what she had been asking for.

The mists, for all their swirling and ebbing and flowing did little to ease her mind. There were no answers in the mists that she could glean. If they were there, only Nasreen would be able to reveal what they knew and the new Seer was nowhere to be seen, dancing on the island in the sky, perhaps. But so was the rest of her herd there, and she was certain they would know what to do. She headed south, closer to the wall that was slowly coming down. Dragomir had started work upon the thing finally, crafting it into pieces that could be used for the greenhouse that Resplendence had so desired. She would have so much more peace when the thing was finally destroyed, laid waste to, razed to the ground and never to be seen again. She was sorry she had crafted it at all.

But once again, her return to the island was to be delayed. She sighed, heading towards the voice that had called her as the last of the music box's song tinkled away into eternity. She would have to press the button again to make the song play another round, but she supposed there were more important things to do now than stop to press the button. Except, that the song didn't matter anymore once she saw who it was that had called her from her peace. “MAU'A!” But the screaming through the basket of her handle made it difficult to know if her tone was angry or excited.

Putting her basket on the ground gently enough, the egg rolling gently from side to side, she looked up at him and it quickly became clear what emotion she was feeling. “I looked everywhere for you! Where were you!?” Her pursed lips and stamping hoof only served to make her anger look childish instead of menacing, though. If she were truly an angry being she might have ranted on at him, yelling about how Aurelia had caused chaos and there was another trial to hold and how much she actually didn't like being queen that much and how he was making her job harder and how he had just abandoned her while she was trying to make everything better!

Except it wasn't in her heart to stay angry for long, so she bounded forward around the basket and threw her nose over his much taller shoulder, if he would have her. And then she stepped back, furrowing her brow in an attempt to look menacing, but she only ended up bursting into hysteric laughter, her head lifted high in the air and the scorpion clicking and whirring angrily as it retreated down to the safety of her withers. “I missed you,” she cooed then, blue eyes turning soft as she looked at his second owl and how much it had grown. If Mauja had enough love for two companions, could she find enough love for one?

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes

Image Credits :: Table by Time


Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kahlua at any time
for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

Please do not tag Kahlua unless it is in an opening post
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#3

i am the vanguard of your destruction
He was content to wait.

He was home.

He had waited a long time, and all the while, he'd never known he was waiting. But now he knew, and the wait was, in one way, over. Slowly, his eyes shut, and his head lifted—and he breathed. Existed. The slow rise and fall of his chest gave him away, but his mind grew blessedly silent. And for the first time in a long while, life didn't feel quite so heavy, and his heart not quite so tired.

For the first time in a long, long while, he felt what he could only describe as hope.

And he remembered how to live in this forest; how to listen, how to pick the scents apart, and how to feel it. Slowly, his eyes cracked open again to the early morning sunlight, and his head turned. Someone was coming. He didn't need to know more. Peace had settled across him, smoothed the worries from his face. He would face whatever that would come, and he would give this life his best—because soon enough, he might not be able to give it anything at all.

And that thought, now that he nearly stood face to face with it, frightened him more than he wanted to admit.

So in many ways, it was a relief that it was nothing but Kahlua's black-and-white splotched shape that came through the forest, the sun glistening upon the dew-drops trapped against her legs. A basket dangled from her mouth, refracting the pale sunlight in much the same way as the broken-down wall did. More glass, then? It was the Moon's gift, after all, though the Edge unicorns had seldom made use of it at the time. It hadn't seemed durable enough to use for war, and war was what they'd been made of, even if the same gentle, early autumn sunlight had filtered down on their last days there.

She yelled his name, and his ears flipped forward. It was something.. something in her tone, in the loudness of her shout, that gave him pause; something that made him wary, all his old doubts flaring into life, as painful and tangible as the memory of fire. Had she turned her back on him? Been poisoned by the words of others? Had she decided that he was a murderer after all, and not simply a man who had been burned too many times?

He didn't want to ruin the peace of the forest morning with his black fear, so he said nothing as she put the basket down, simply stared at her with a wariness he had never regarded her with earlier—and never wanted to regard her with again. But he couldn't deny that his heart pulsed with the old memories he couldn't ever shake, and that he feared what words might roll off her tongue next. “I looked everywhere for you! Where were you!?” Moss bent beneath the force of her hoof, and Mauja's ears fell back in hesitation; she'd hardly given him an exact date to return by.. and besides, much had happened since.

Gods burning—how long had it been? Last winter? So nearly a year. Then Diego had taken ill, and they'd left, and come back, and everything, which had always hung in a kind of precarious balance, had just come crashing down. He'd told himself, all those months ago, that he would find Ophelia. Tell her all the things she needed to hear, just in case.

But that had dragged on, and on, and on.. and he hadn't found her.

So he'd come anyway.

But the Sun was never angry long, was she? Like the God who burned him once and healed him another time; the stomping hoof was exchanged for a bounding, bouncing approach, and Irma gave an indignant owl's bark as she fled to the sky to avoid being knocked clear off his back. It just drew a gentle laugh from Mauja, a sound so alien to him—his eyes closed, again, and what shadow she cast upon him from the sun was no colder, because she was more than warm enough. Silently he pressed the side of his face against her mane, against her neck, hiding in the folds of her white-black hair and wishing the world could just leave him there, where everything was simple and nothing hurt quite so bad.

But it couldn't. Wouldn't. Because it was the world, and Kahlua needed to dance, and she couldn't do that when he clung to her. So he let her step back, and Irma returned from her circling to settle upon him again, favoring the girl-mare with an icy stare. It seemed to say, this place on Mauja's body is mine, so don't try to take it again.

"I've missed you too," he responded, but his eyes were on the device crawling down her neck, and his surprise at how honestly the words slipped off his tongue was drowned in the curiosity of how she'd come to be in possession of it. He remembered Snö's wolf, Tarak, very well, and thought the machinery of this was familiar—and besides, who else had such a peculiar art, as the taciturn Engineer? But how had she, a hornless, come to have one? Ulrik was hardly known for his fondness of the "lesser species", and had, in fact, been the one ready to boot Mauja out for his political move during the Sun Cult days. So why did Kahlua have one of his creations? He motioned towards the whirring creature with the tip of his nose, and asked, "is that one of Ulrik's machines?"
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Kahlua the Sunshower Posts: 662
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3hh :: 9 [Orangemoon] HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Khan :: Common Blue Dragon :: Frost Breath Sevin
#4


k a h l u a

What was it about this enigmatic beast that had so completely and thoroughly drawn the queen in to his life? She knew him from a handful of meetings, of chance interactions, and yet as she looked upon him she knew peace in a way that had eluded her for some time. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew he had secrets the way she had secrets, just a few, that she would not (could not?) share with the world. Perhaps it was the way he was steady when the world around them seemed to be full of chaos. Perhaps it was something else, something primal within him, which just made her feel safe. Whatever it was, the queen was glad to know the feeling again, now, here in his presence.

She ignored his hesitations at her yelling, disregarded the wary way he watched her stomping hoof and proud head, and when she bounded forth and was welcomed, she felt safe and home. He was, or perhaps would grow to be, a brother to her instead of just a friend. She could feel it in his laugh, in the way he pressed his head against her, hid in her hair and burrowed into her body. To hide? She knew the emotion well. She hadn’t, when she had first met him. Life had given her trials and tribulations, but none so terrible as Mauja’s. But she knew it now, in some ways, as she still dealt with the knowledge that she was a murderess. Lucky then, that she had forgiven the Frostheart so long ago, or she might never have forgiven herself.

Watching his owl settle back into her resting place, Kahlua closed her eyes and tried to imagine the same of whatever was in this egg. Was it an owl, like Mauja’s pair? A songbird like Onni’s Lhyty? A dragon to join the draconian song that frequently filled the forest? Or something land bound, perhaps… She knew not what secrets were hidden within the shell, only that she feared its coming. She wasn’t ready for this… not ready at all. But she hadn’t been ready for the queendom either. There were so many in this world that had faith in her- faith that she would be their friend, faith that she could come to know the meaning of love, faith that she could care for a herd, care for a companion, put the needs of others before the needs of her own. They had faith in her, but she no had faith in herself- not for matters of such vital importance. She was middle-aged nearing old, but she still had (and might always have) the heart of a child.

She opened her eyes to the sound of his voice.

“A gift from him,” she responded. “When I was glazier I made each herd a gift- a scorpion for the Basin. He made it in return.” She did ever so like the thing, never knowing what nefarious purpose it truly served. But then, she had no mind for such thoughts and intricacies. “He made this as well, more recently, up on the floating island,” she added, lowering her nose to touch the button on her music box. A song started to play, cords and notes tinkling out as the machine made its turns. The birds above chirped along, adding body and fullness to the Engineer’s song.

“How did you do it?” she asked then suddenly, her mind jumping back to her thoughts from before as the song continued on softly, for it truly was the question of the ages. How had he been king, how had he managed. Was she destined to become like him- like Ophelia and Psyche, like Phaedra and Ktulu, like Lace and Thor, like so many others who had cast aside their crowns? Had she known the history of the land, of how many rulers had come to cast their crowns aside due to the pressures they held, she might have thought that ruling was something no horse was fit for. She might have thought that no horse at all should be burdened with such weight and duty. She might have wondered if she was destined to fall from her throne like so many other great names in the history of Helovia.

Perhaps the throne was not a gift at all, but where the gods sent horses whom they wanted to break.

She was close to being broken herself. “How did you lead the herd and not go mad?” Her bright blue eyes turned sad and in looking at him she wondered if she was seeing her own future. Would she be the one wandering across shattered borders, trying to mend a shattered heart and shattered past? Would she be left to wander the wilds, to be lonely as she had called him? She wanted to know that it could be different, that it could be better than a tragic end, but as she looked at the fallen Frostheart she doubted that she would ever find a different truth. And as the song from the music box faded into eternity, Kahlua thought she could sense her own life beginning to fade in that direction as well. She was drowning in pressures not meant for a child's heart- who would throw her a lifeline to save her from this ocean of doubt?

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes

Image Credits :: Table by Time


Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kahlua at any time
for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

Please do not tag Kahlua unless it is in an opening post


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