"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.
10-07-2014, 11:18 PM (This post was last modified: 10-25-2014, 10:40 PM by Thor.)
Violent skies moved savagely above me and from what I could tell, a winter storm was blowing in over the Steppe. It cast ashen shadows across the open plains as slate-colored clouds concealed the sun’s rays in murky shadow. Daylight still surfaced toward the South and the eerie contrast felt strangely powerful… Darkness had begun at my back and had slowly travelled up and over me until I was merely gazing into the only region of the Steppe still lit by the sun. The storm left nothing untouched as it approached and it had muted the landscape in various tints of grey until all that was left to see was a wasteland made of dust. Despite the gusting winds that carried the inevitable promise of snow, the Steppe seemed unnaturally quiet. It was as if life had been devoid of the plains until I had thought to venture into the vastness of the barren land… In some ways, I felt connected to the emptiness that embodied my surroundings- grey and numb and unfeeling. We were colorless beings that, until now, had been two entirely separate entities yet, now united. We were the neutral stones buried beneath a fine layer of ice and slush. We were the drab saplings paying homage to the leaden sky above. Everything had been blotted out, forgotten, and left behind in some cruel version of purgatory.
A low rumbling sounded overhead and for a moment I was distraught to think that a summer storm had any business breeching the winter’s domain, but as the lands grew quiet again, I was even more afraid to imagine that I had made it all up. Pacing forward a few uneven steps, I turned my eyes back around hoping to catch sight of rain or proof that I wasn’t going absolutely insane. However, other than the bone-chilling breeze that forced wintry clouds even further across the Steppe, I saw nothing. With a hesitant resolve, I ventured deeper into the ivory painted landscape feeling uneasy with the disquiet that haunted not only the Steppe but my broken heart as well. The hardened ground was uneven and at times I slid into the shallow grooves with unexpected force. My gait was jagged and lacked any real coordination as my shoulders jarred and jerked into place with each new and unanticipated shift in the land.
Another distant roar threatened the skies overhead and once again I fought myself to determine how such an anomaly could be happening in Helovia. However, this time it was more distant in my mind and it was still harder to decipher if it were fact or fiction. Once again, I turned a curious eye to the heavens above, searching for signs of rain or lightning but found neither. Disgruntled, I carried on hoping to find shelter from the coming of the snow but I still felt at odds with whatever ominous force that was working against me. Was I just making this up or was this reality? I could have sworn that thunder had been erupting across the darkening sky and yet there was nothing; none of it made sense…
Until the rushing winds commenced.
At first it had started as a mild gale that tugged at my mane and tail, but soon after it felt as if the winds themselves would overtake me. I slid and rocked over the crevices in the frozen ground until my legs were sore and aching. Tendrils of thick hair bore down upon my eyes, temporarily blinding me, and as the winds picked up they robbed me of my voice and my breath. I was being overthrown and I tried to cry out but to no avail. I had been silenced and suffocated beneath the storm. Shortly after I began straining against the strength of the mysterious tempest, I noticed another threatening roll of thundercrack. It belted through me like a dissonant cry and shook me upon the icy floor, but no rain came. Passionate cries tried to force their way up from my throat, but the wind and the cold stifled them into oblivion. The pain of my lungs being crushed and swallowed from within caused my eyes to squeeze closed, ending my view of this horror, this nightmare. I didn’t want to see this anymore. I didn’t want to watch as this land stole my life away. I didn’t want to die...
But moments later, silence came and washed over everything inside the grey plains.
Slowly, I opened my eyes and took in the new calm emanating from my body. As I glanced around, I spied the southern half of the Steppe still lit by the sun. Slowly, I checked each limb to find that despite the fact that they had been protesting and threatening to give way only moments before, they now felt rejuvenated and strong. I was still gasping and out of breath, but I felt normal… In fact, nothing around me suggested that I had even been part of a brutal storm that risked taking my life. My body shook now, trembled and quaked, while inwardly I feared that the God’s had taken revenge on me for abandoning my faith in them. Frantically, my eyes darted from one corner of the plains to the next. I sought to find some explanation that would settle the unearthly feeling of disaster that was blooming wide in my stomach. I was terrified. What was that?
I felt dizzy and unbalanced as I once again surfaced within the realm of reality. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but as I move forward, once again seeking cover from the winter storm, I decided that I couldn’t think about it anymore. Whatever alien forces had struck my heart with such anxiety meant to harm me and I held no reservations when it came to hiding myself away from the world until I felt safe enough to re-emerge. My thoughts spun wildly around in my head; perhaps I was losing it. I was drunk with anticipation, still reeling from the surreal experience… and like with a fine wine, my mind would unwind at some point.
A strong and threatening wind had brought her up onto the Steppe. She appeared as if by magic, first there was nothing, and then she stood tall, gazing at the winged one from a distance. The breeze gently tugged at her short tail and the feather in her mane. She could just feel the wind stroking what little mane she had. "Wings? How....interesting," she said lightly. Her voice chimed and sang on the wind, soft and beautiful, luring all in earshot closer.
She stood in the sunlight, the only sunshine on the Steppe, and watched the Pegasus come closer. She swung her hindquarters around, so that she was facing him head on. "This will be mighty interesting," she said, and laughed. A giggle rising and rising and just when it seemed it would never stop, it did. She paced in a circle, once, she was getting impatient.
There was nothing she could entertain herself up here with, it was vast and empty. The vacant space in her chest felt colder than usual up here. Something drew her attention. Yes, an itch. The same one she got every time she came in contact with unfamiliar pegasi. The rings around her eyes itched and burned, and she threw her head down in frustration. "Hush!" she commanded, and the burning ceased to an acceptable stance. He was close now, she could smell him. Smells strange and alien, Naira has never smelt them before. A taste entered her mouth, coppery and delicious. Blood. But it was never really there, and Naira snorted.
10-25-2014, 08:35 PM (This post was last modified: 10-25-2014, 08:35 PM by Random Event.)
Though the storm within may have passed by quietly, another was just rising. From the southern end of the Steppes a breeze was born. It started with little notice, gently picking its way across the frozen lands, its nature barely able to compete with the snow laden terrain. At least, until it reach Thor. There, with him, it seemed to change, the way a parasite does upon finding a suitable host.
The gentle, playful breeze mussed through his mane and over his rump like an invisible hand. It encircled him, yet was nothing out of the ordinary, other than its continued interest. An interest that persisted even when the air returned to stillness.
Silence permeated the icy realm. Thor stood alone.
A mild lull; the eye of the storm.
With abrupt ferocity the wind returned, a thing grown in size and intent. No longer did it play with Thor - it pressed into him, tumbling, rolling, cavorting through any opening among his body. Between his hairs it twisted, through his feathers it yanked, into his eyes, ears, nose, it jabbed ruthlessly cold and grabbed for his breath, his sanity. So encompassing was the assault that even the frozen ground he stood on was ripped from itself, cast as sharpened sleet and driven to his skin like needles. His only respite would be the minute lapses between each barrage, as though a beast were breathing and each antagonistic zephyr was an exhale sent rushing out. Every time it died down, it started up worse than before, its terror increasing exponentially.
It wanted to beat him down, to wither his fortitude and his immunity, then it would strike.
This RE will post one more time.
Vaguely, I noticed another presence lurking within the shadows of the Steppes, but I paid it little mind for another gale had begun to breeze in around me. I wasn’t sure if this was yet another figurative storm or if this was the real thing- either way, my heart began to pound in time to an inner clock that seemed to signal the onslaught of danger, though I couldn’t pinpoint what kind of danger. I was frightful and yet I could not move from the frozen wasteland for I was trapped by my own fear and anxiety. It tugged at my legs and rooted them to icy grounds with vigor in spite of my rising need to flee... Whatever was coming was something that I had to endure, if only because I truly had no will power to resist my own curiosities.
As the winds crossed the land with their masks and their nonchalant laughter, I did not stop them from grazing my spine, my neck, or my face. They ran their slender, delicate fingers through my mane in such a way that I was tempted to close my eyes and delight in their caress- until the vagabond breeze fled and left only a singular stroke upon my spine. It moved slowly along my skin, leaving dread and pure terror in its wake as a strangled scream mounted in my throat, unable to be released. The silence that pervaded the Steppe only served to pervade my mind as well as I fell still and unresisting to the supernatural forces that begged and smoothed over my hide.
As if in an alternate reality, I now looked upon myself as I stood rigid to the storm’s bidding. My legs were taut, though slightly bowed beneath the tension of an invisible sin. I could see my lips parting, hoping to release the fear and dread and hopeless song of one who has come to find out he is damned. However, no sound ever found its way to the open air because the strength of the returning winds had pressed in upon me with such force that it robbed me not only of my strength but of my breath as well. I watched as the tears began to well up in my eyes from the pain and the weight of the storm bearing down upon me. My mane had been lifted from my neck as if the elements wanted to rip me from the ground, but I was unmoving as it bored down upon my back forcing me into a stalemate with myself. I was locked in place, unmoving, unbreathing, and furthermore unhoping for redemption.
Cold shivers of icy pain lanced across my skin as the storm grew stronger, more intense… Yet still, I could not, or perhaps would not, test its inherent power. Even as I watched, or perhaps only imagined myself a merciful bystander to what appeared to be my death, I could only feel the haziness of what felt like unconsciousness edging into my outer thoughts. However, I felt awakened, as though I had known sleep for days and could not bring myself to close my eyes another moment. Everything commenced to spinning ruthlessly inside my head as I was brought once more into myself, back into the suffering of my mortal body. My memories shook and danced with the chaos as I struggled to think of anything other than the winds ripping at the very seams of my existence. As the storm persisted, snow and ice and dirt lifted up and spun around me before hurling itself as a dagger into my body. Finally, a shuttering cry escaped from my throat, though it was strangled and broken apart by the raging of the wind.
No one would hear me now.
Relentless, the storm raged on and though I could not see the clarity of the skies or the innocence of the Steppe, I knew that this torture had been meant for me alone. My heart seemed to constrict mindlessly, intent on giving up beneath the weight of the pain and the endless torrent of suffering. But, just when I thought that I might fall to my knees and release my soul to the devils that awaited me beyond the ether of life, a single spirited breeze brought relief. It sailed around me in shivering silence causing my skin to light with a new flame that coursed through my veins and caused me to gasp inwardly from the sheer sensation of it. But… just when I thought I had found respite from my merciless assailant, the storm brewed above once more, again lifting the snow and ice and tender soil in another barrage of insurmountable pain. The tears fell freely now as once again it pressed down upon me, taking my life from me bit by bit. I was resigned to die. This was my punishment for past faults. With that thought, I let the pain overcome me on another defeated cry.
10-25-2014, 11:54 PM (This post was last modified: 10-25-2014, 11:54 PM by Random Event.)
Finally, release came to Thor. The winds vanished as fast as they had come, leaving the land and the stallion in eerie quiet. It was not over though, but Thor didn't need to know that, though perhaps he suspected. Few things in life were worse than false hope, and that's precisely what the presence was fabricating for him.
So the silence, and the stillness, stretched on. It stretched on until it seemed the bay pegasus had finally found some ability to relax, and then it crept forward once more.
When it came again it was different. A southern breeze still carried it towards him, but gone was the harassment and the terror. Instead it slithered out, a black trail of smoke and ink stained darkness, so starkly contrasted against the pale sheet of this world that it did not seem possible. Sunlight could not penetrate the black coil, its void absolute. Opposing winds could not dissuade the onyx current, its destination firm. Mortal bodies, hooves or otherwise, could not retaliate against the raven born fog, it was invincible.
He could run, but it would follow. He could hide, but it would remain. The darkness could only come, and he could only wait for it.
The hope, if he ever held it at all, gradually drained away with each winding twist of the blackness.
Then it was upon him.
It moved like it was alive, though it looked like smoke, thicker than that of any fire's. It seemed to startle when it first touched him, darting back like fish in water, but it quickly regained its composure. With newfound confidence it wove upwards, until at last it wrapped against his muzzle, almost holding him, staring at him, then it sunk inside.
Black smoke filled Thor, vanishing from sight as it poured into him, forcing its way in even if he refused to breath. It embedded in his veins, infusing with his DNA. Nothing happened at first, not even an original pain, just strangeness.
False hope.
A sudden cold sweat would break out over Thor. He would shiver, his teeth set to chatter, his bones sent to clatter. It was not just moisture that wicked out of his hide though. The smoke bled out of his pores, exuded around the bases of his wings and the shafts of his feathers. Like a demonic overshadow, black, foggy wings wriggled out of his current ones. Then it dissipated.
Over the next 2 weeks Thor's wings will become increasingly infected, eventually rotting away into nothing.
It will begin with a cold numbness, a tingling, uncomfortable ache as if the marrow in his bones were turning into sludge.
It will grow from within, making his wings too weak to use, the muscles sore and bruised, swollen and tender.
It will spread to the outside, hair and feathers dropping in small patches but then falling out like rain.
It will break his flesh, cracking, bleeding, bubbling with blisters and boils.
It will affect others, coming off as an utterly wretched odor of putrid decay, the blisters and boils bursting with thick, creamy pus and non-coagulating blood. Spiders will crawl out of the crevices left by the open sores, while maggots will openly feed on them. Anyone who comes into contact with his open blisters will have their skin area ravaged by the same disease.
All the while it will slowly let off a faint, black smoke.
Any attempts at healing it will accelerate the level of progression, lengthening the worse conditions.
A maelstrom crosses the land. It is sudden, then explosive, then gone as soon as it came. The half-child doesn’t understand this strange weather phenomenon, but he sneaks from his hiding place to follow it anyways. Having finally found a place within the Basin, a home to call his own (though suspiciously lacking his mother), he has taken to exploring. In the moments where Erebos is busy with his father, learning lessons that Adelric himself is not privy to, the boy and his cervid travel the snowy lands within and around the mountain. There are many mysteries here to unlock, but he has plenty of time to do so. So follow the storm he does- perhaps he should have turned around.
He comes upon a pegasus and a unicorn in time, and though he does not hear the mare’s words, there are plenty of things to consider. First and foremost is the way that the wind continues to assault Thor even though the air around him is deadly still. The half-child wonders and watches, converses with Tobias and contemplates the reasons that such a weather might exist. Magic? he queries to the cervid, who has no answer for him and does nothing but bleat softly. And then it grows worse. Adelric approaches closer, his eager mind searching for information to steal and catalogue from this situation.
Don’t go too close. He heeds his own advice and keeps some distance between them.
And after what seems like ages of torture for the winged creature, his beloved air having been his assailant, the stranger is given respite from the gale. Adelric has half a mind to open his mouth, to interject, to question the stallion about what has happened, but he manages to hold his tongue for a moment and just watch the evil here take place. Tobias thinks of the other evil that the half-child has been present to witness and Adelric nods to him. Yes… the cervid is right. This is the same malevolence that plagued the Frozen Arch when he was there. Perhaps these snows are haunted…
As if confirming the thought, an inky black snake weaves across the frozen, chilled ground, come to Thor, invading his body and violating him from nostril inward. Finally Adelric approaches, against his own better advice, curiosity filling him that he just cannot hold back. “Does it hurt?” he asks finally, watching as the black smoke evacuates itself from Thor’s body. He is careful to keep his own nostrils tucked close to his chest, but it is clear by his lack of concern for Thor’s general well-being that the child has learned few manners in his life. But then, scientists are solitary creatures by nature- they have no need for social niceties.
I had been defeated. I had given up hope and desired the sweet release that death would ultimately bring me, but just as soon as my lungs felt ready to burst and my trembling body ready to collapse, the winds fled. As if they terrified children who had done wrong, the gale dissipated into the Steppe laughing chaotically in the wake of its own disaster. I was left shattered by its torrent, surely left to die now as my essence seemed to drain away along with my certain assassin as it soared along the open swells into sinful oblivion. I tried to curse, tried to scream, and even tried to force my dried tears to build again… but they would not come. I stood stone-still with nothing but my memories to hang on to. The pain that flared through my body would not relent and though I couldn’t imagine mustering enough energy to save myself, my heart reached out towards the heavens in hopes that someone would save me.
I was relieved that I now knew I could leave with my life still intact even if I could not say the same of my body. Everything screamed in pain with flame and assault as my skin burned from the cold and the ice. I needed to get back to the Edge in order to warm myself for I feared hypothermia or at the very least exposure to the elements. However, when I thought myself strong enough to make the first step away from my own personal ell, a slight breeze slithered in from the south. Its cool touch made me freeze fearing that the onslaught of terror had returned. My legs trembled and my heart fluttered once more. The savage skies conveyed no mercy as the grey tint of winter lingered within their depths, but I could not face what I knew was coming. I forced the tears building within the tender wells of my quiet eyes to cease, though it did little to calm me.
Instead, when I turned a reluctant gaze to the face of my tormentor, I could not help but whimper. Instead of the violent mixture of ice and dirt, a serpent of black smoke snaked its ways toward me in a venomous fashion. Unbeknownst to me, the smoke itself would not let me flee, but I also knew that even if I thought I could escape the forces of my fate would keep me still. Slowly, I accepted what I considered to be my twisted version of destiny and tried to close my eyes to the approaching horror, though I couldn’t seem to look away. It shivered and crawled toward me with a makeshift grin that sent terror rushing down my spine. Please no. Of course my pleading went unanswered and when the shadows tried to envelope me in their touch, they cringed as if my hide were a source of flame. But upon finding that I did not produce fire or any other secretion of poison, it overtook me.
It was impenetrable as it gripped a mysterious extremity around my face and nose. I struggled to breathe as it invaded, pushing itself into each orifice with such vigor that I couldn’t even scream. Surely this would be the moment I would die. It infiltrated my entire being, filling every crevice with its venom and darkness. I strained against it to no avail and when it reached the fragile remnants of my wings, it bore through them until the impurities that remained were all but removed. On its departure, a ghostly vision of a pair of black wings filtered out from the malformed appendages and finally –finally- it was gone. My body trembled and I couldn’t control the contorted sobs that vied desperately to escape my mouth. Anger and confusion welled up inside my heart and though I couldn’t find it in me to scream, the momentary idea made me feel calmer.
I was stunned as I tried to recall just what had happened, but all I could remember now was watching the sickly black mist devour its way through my skin, evaporating from the pores into the clean air of the Steppe. I wanted to collapse, I wanted to sleep, and most of all I wanted to forget. Whatever had happened was not worth remembering and I refused to do as much. However, when an unfamiliar voice touched my delicate ears, I jumped. My legs shuddered, my teeth quaked, and my heart pounded against my chest as I took in the sight of a spirited young colt. Funny how I could do little to avoid his inquisitive gaze when all I wanted to do was disappear. I was tempted to lash out at the youngster, but exhaustion and relief and a dozen other emotions kept me at bay. Slowly, I turned my tired eyes to the colt, “Yes. It hurts.” I couldn’t help but scowl at him after admitting my weakness, but there was little I wanted to be held accountable for now. I just wanted to get home… as soon as my legs would allow.
It was then that I noticed the mare lingering at the threshold of the Steppe, which in turn enraged me further. How many others could have possibly witnessed this monstrosity?! AND NOT A SINGLE ONE HAD OFFERED HELP!” I did not acknowledge her in hopes that I would left to recover in peace and perhaps I was offended that she had been standing there throughout the entirety of my ordeal. I needed to get home; I needed to close my eyes… I needed to sleep the horror away into the recesses of my mind.
11-06-2014, 10:09 PM (This post was last modified: 11-06-2014, 10:09 PM by Adelric.)
Adelric notices the frustration in the stallion’s eyes, the anger, the exhaustion. He has seen these things in others. Anger in Zunden’s eyes, most frequently. Frustration in Kiara’s eyes, for a variety of reasons. Exhaustion… that had been Sohalia, heavy with foal and weary in both body and soul, it had seemed. Now he sees all three on the face of Thor, intertwining and interacting to create a specific emotion that he has not seen before but that he can begin to understand. That is the beauty of science. If you know A and you know B, it is simple as adding them together to create C. Of course, what C means for Thor and how it will make him act are unknown variables. They must be studied and learned from.
“Interesting,” is his only response to the admission of pain. Giving a sidelong glance towards Thor, he tries to take a step towards the wings instead, bi-hued eyes glossing over the one he is closest to- the right one. “It seems intact,” he informs the stallion helpfully, but quickly losing himself in Tobias’ mind instead of speaking the rest of his conclusions aloud. Intact, no swelling, no redness, no lacerations, no masses, no disrupted fur or feathers. Where, then, does the pain radiate from?
He has learned something of pain through his own gallivanting through the land and every encounter he can think of involves some form of physical disruption. Except… Turning his face towards Tobias, he furrows his brow and tilts tilting his head curiously. The cervid bleats softly in return and Adelric returns his gaze to the apparently painful wing. “Yes, maybe just a sprain,” he says aloud to the cervid, his childish mind almost having forgotten that his subject was a living breathing creature. Still, despite the fact that he calls it a sprain, the half-child is not so sure he believes what he says.
He reviews the one time he pulled a muscle in his back limb. What was he doing? An image of running, and then turning too fast, flashes through his mind. Bobbing his head to thank Tobias, Adelric tries to recall what had happened. It seemed to have involved the muscle stretching too far. So how could this be a strain? The wing had not moved, the muscles had not been pulled… “Curious,” he murmurs, trying to travel from Thor’s right to his left to inspect the other wing. If he had felt any concern for Thor, it was far gone by now. He was in science-land, lost in thoughts of science and mystery.
There is something clerical about this foal, something lacking or vacant in his eyes that I find eerie… But I do not have the strength to ward him off even in spite of the damp scent of the Basin rolling off his winter skin. His words are tight and emotionless as he inspects me and I am but a mere project or scientific discovery to record in his books, to detail in his ledgers. Looking at him looking at me, I notice the peculiar set of eyes he wears. One pale yellow and one bright green… a queer looking animal indeed. In fact, for a moment I am so caught up in studying the youth that I forget to guard my own personal space as he moves in closer to my right appendage. However, he does not appear violent and instead merely makes an observation about the wing itself. I am baffled, or at the very least dazed and tired from whatever ghostly assailant had attacked me only moments before. I nod slowly at him as I test his words on my own tongue, “It seems intact…” It seems intact. It... seems… intact? Would there come a time when it breaks free of the feeble bone that holds it to place?
A rising fear sparks in my chest and carries outward. I find myself quivering from the exertion of trying to defend myself from the driving ice and snow, but it does little to help the weakness jarring my legs into stiffness. I hardly notice the foal and his companion exchanging thought in a way that I have yet to understand, but something about them drives me mad. Their presence and their indifference arrest my heart and make me gasp in anger and fright. I desire to scream at them, turn them away from my weakness… or at least inspire them to leave me the hell alone! But a pulsing agony bursts through my sides at the base of my deformities and I cannot find the voice it takes to speak otherwise. Again the young male takes down an observation to his bonded as though perhaps I am an unfeeling mongrel without any real thought or action. I tremble, but the resulting pain causes me to fall still once again.
“It is not curious, you devil. It is fantasy, a ghostly memory that from now on I would urge you to forget. I-” Wincing from the quiet flames that build in my back and my stomach, I try to fight onward so that I might be able to return home before the cold of night sweeps across the plains. “-I’ll be sure to update you when something happens.” The sarcasm in my voice is palpable and above all else, I hope it will be enough to evade the youth long enough for his interest to wane. However, as the foal circles around to study my other side, I decide that I cannot stop him. I am too weak to fight him off in any way shape or form and though I desire peace and quiet, I know that at some point he will retire to manipulate his findings into answers elsewhere.
Maybe one day I would seek out those answers as long as I could recover from this… But I wanted it to be washed from my memory and my body altogether even if something told me that fate would not have it so. I would have to deal with the consequences until the end, no matter how cruel and unjustified they were.
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