"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.
[Mandatory herd meeting. Feel free to keep your posts shorter, but this will be an important meeting for your character to attend!]
Although the air was crisp and static, fire burned brightly upon Gaucho's wings. Everything of the sun stallion was a tribute to the God who he served - who they all served. Every scar, marking, and feather pulsing with firelight, spoke of his commitment to the fiery deity as well as the herd he had sworn to protect. The firelight from his wings cast wavering and warm patterns of light upon the frigid sands, as the WildFire moved easily across them. His large hooves displaced the grains, as Gaucho moved out into the open - an area large enough to hold them. All of them.
Today the Throat would come together as one. They would discuss Cera's warning and the happenings on the Island; they would discuss the ranks within the herd, and the Academy; they would come together, and they would flourish as they had always done.
Spreading his dark wings Gaucho reared onto his hind legs. The muscles and bones in his wings forced his feathers towards his body, shooting a massive arc of flames into the air. Flowing through the current were three massive shapes, appearing like giant eagles composed of fire. A bellow left his dark lips, encouraging all to come. If they couldn't hear his summons, surely they would see it. The arc of fire dispersed roughly thirty feet into the air, but was followed by another, and then another. His fiery-shapes danced and flitted in the air above him, an unmistakable representation of the WildFire, and the God who he served.
Gaucho's antlered brow swung to the left, then to right, scanning the sands for his brethren. Symbols pulsed with a warm light upon his antlers - a gift from the God of the Sun - causing a warm glow to appear in his otherwise stormy gaze.
A M P E R E
"Any existence deprived of freedom is a kind of death" -- Michel Aoun
His display curled over her in waves of heat. They chased away winter's touch the way breaking waves stir the shore. For the first time since she had met him though, his head did not embed inside of her, did not fill her bones with lighter fluid and flint. It left a chill which was crueler than the season.
Hooves pushed off sand in a soundless departure as Ampere ran through the desert. At her side dark wings banded in blue stretched out. They tested the wind with well practiced strokes, stretching out and pulling back once, twice, thrice - she was airborne. The tips of her wings reached, searching for that invisible hand; the wind. Once she felt it her fingers, her feathers, curled around it tightly and she hoisted herself up, held close in the breast of her second mother. Ampere drank from her, but the comfort was sharp and unforgiving, nothing like the milk of her dam.
As she moved blue sparks trailed after her, like fireflies. They popped and swirled, growing, moving, ebbing like a living thing that swelled and breathed. They were coming together, mingling as galaxies do amid the endless dark of the God's playground. Once they clashed, a brilliant display of light and energy, they found new vigor amongst themselves. In their play and their vitality they created something new, something great, something beautiful.
A neon blue shark.
She had seen them in the ocean, during one of her countless visits to the beach where she watched the battle of surf and sand. She had intrigued her with their grace, cutting through the water as she did the sky. They were two of the same worlds, opposed, yet united. It seemed fitting. She flew on, the shark moving back and forth beneath her.
The Wildfire was easily upon the ground, his display a difficult show to miss. She circled overhead for a moment, her blue stare directed downwards, drifting heavily between her tucked front legs. There was no reason to prolong the inevitable, but anxiety swelled in her veins, beating alongside the blood. It made her teeth worry at her lip. Their last reunion had not long passed, which unlike times in the past, did nothing to lift her heart. This was the man set to ruin himself. He was set to ruin her.
I know what this meeting brings her thoughts whispered darkly, afraid. She also knew she could not hide, would not hide. Even if he didn't fear anything, not a damn thing, she wasn't afraid to admit that she did, and she wasn't afraid to face those terrors. If he insisted on hurtling himself into the wolf's mouth, she would be there beside him. Two had a better chance than one, especially if the one was an arrogant, stupid boy.
Snorting Ampere dived onto her left wing, dropping down to land in the sands near him. The movement was quick, effortless, and just like that she went from sky to earth, flighted to grounded. Her wings tucked neatly along her back, her lightning shark drifting above her in small, rhythmic circles. Like a cold flame, the kind made of metal and blue, her eyes came to rest on him.
Ampere waited. She waited for the storm to end. Be the lightning in me that strikes relentless.
A wave of heat nearly cost Bucephalus his life... or well, it would have if he had not been on guard already. Eyeing the rattlesnake with a single gold eye, he stepped out of it's long range. "Until we meet again, my rude friend." He muttered irritably to the coiled serpent. He had been dozing when the snake decided to intrude upon his sleep, and in a fit of reckless anger Bucephalus nearly went to kill the snake, but a semi-familiar heat had caught him just as his hooves readied to strike.
All for the better, he'd killed enough life. With a toss of his head(and a childish kick of sand at the rattlesnake) Bucephalus took off towards where the heat had originated. He'd felt it once before, and the arcs of fire that flew into the sky meant only one thing to the black. Guacho. At the very least this would be interesting.
Bucephalus flew across the sand, but his wings remained nestled against his sides. No, he flew grounded, his hooves drumming out a muffled beat across the sand, barely kissing the ground before they were off again. He enjoyed flight, relished in it, but sometimes galloping as fast as he could held it's own thrills. He slowed to a canter, then a trot as the primitive-looking stallion came into view. Another familiar flicker made him turn just as Ampere landed down onto the ground with a grace he could appreciate. He debated on going over and greeting her, but chose to keep his distance. If she'd wish to speak with him she would let him know.
So, while waiting for something to happen, he settled about to cleaning himself, running his lips across his wings and discarding loose or jagged feathers that could slow his flight or unbalance him in the air. At the speeds he enjoyed, a foul feather could be his undoing. Which just made it all the more fun.
Bucephalus
Art done by me
Table by Tamme<3
Feel free to tag Buce in all posts; permission is given for force against him provided it doesn't kill or permanently maim him(ask about the latter)
10-23-2014, 09:11 PM (This post was last modified: 10-23-2014, 09:13 PM by Sikeax.)
Sikeax
Locked in the serenading grace of sleep and all of it's fortunes that take the pale girl from the evils of the world, the distant echo of a roar that bellowed over the desert bring a slow stir, moving in the fog that shrouded the world after a decent nap is taken away, regardless if the awakening be kind or rude. The only movement in her standing form beneath her hiding place against the sea is the flicker of ears and a swish of a chocolate tail to rid herself of flies with enough grip on life to fight back against a harsh Frostfall. Their efforts remain futile in preparation for the harsh frost to come that will surely rid them of their life.
Soft blues patter and then open, flickering like Hummingbird wings with bleached lashes harboring rogue, wind-swept sand before they bloom wide when the fog clears. Steam twists and coils from her nostrils with each breath. They fire like cannon smoke as a canter lengths her stride and increases her pace. A dazed mind remains quiet the whole of her journey, simply taking into account the others that stand there, waiting for her and the others that are sure to come.
Gaucho is the only one she recalls by name, the black male memorized only by the low light on his coat in the caves with the Blood Phantom. In the glow of the Sun's tired glory, he is more handsome, less of a dark soul she'd easily come to be cautious of in that setting than she thought. A lazy nod is given to her family members before she allows her full attention to reach out to Gaucho.
"If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?"
In winter, some voices are like coats - Mosteghanemi
If there was much to fear, there was much to welcome in the coming seasons in the Dragon's Throat. The dove had given far too much time to the naive belief that things could be peaceful and easy; no longer were the ignorant flowers of youth woven artfully into her banner, the gleaming stars of bliss embedded in her bi-colored gaze. She was older now, and smarter, and stronger - and she was ready to face the dangers of the world rather than pretend they didn't exist. She was no warrior, but she had her own ways of fighting the darkness that threatened to consume them all. She had her own unique array of talents that were every bit as vital as the WildFire's, and she had every intention of proving it.
She moved to stand beside him as their herd assembled before them, an odd feeling in her chest. On the one hoof, there was so much right about the pair of them standing before the herd to whom they had given so much - but on the other, it was under such strange circumstances. Gaucho's eyes held sparks of wariness, the lines of his face etched with concern. But there was pride there, too, as always, and the fierce protection that led her back to him time after time. There was unyielding strength and unwavering loyalty, and it was for those reasons that she loved him, that she was proud to lead beside him.
The crown of golden dragons glimmered softly in the light of his flames, interwoven with her silken, ivory locks. "M'athchomaroon," she murmured softly, for his ears alone, as they waited for their herdmates to assemble. His size and air demanded more attention than her petite frame, but she had no intention of allowing him to take the respect that she had fought to gain from their people. She, too, would have her say. Astraeus landed softly on her withers, sparks flickering from his wingtips and skittering along her back.
"Talk talk talk."
Translations ::
M'athchomaroon | a simple greeting, with respect.
10-24-2014, 03:27 PM (This post was last modified: 10-24-2014, 03:28 PM by Onni.)
onni.</style>
Hesitation laces the steps of the fallen Illuminant, her heart split in two. Upon on end, the modesty of her soul pleaded that she remain alone, steadfast in her resolve to be outcast. The family she abandoned in the search for the long lost Resolute did not need her presence, proven unreliable and easily shaken. The other, the desire to return to the land of Sunlight, to touch her crimson sands, for the arid winds to wrap around her wings. Torn, she teeters about the boundaries of her former desert home, eyes squinting desperately to make out shapes in the distance.
The flat horizon of the Dragon's Throat stretched for miles, the glimmer of the Oasis lake a mere twinkle at her distance. Lyhty floats overhead, quietly encouraging the mare to walk forward on her bleached limbs and return home. They will welcome you, Onni, he assures her lightly, singing a soft tune upon the wind.
Logically, perhaps, the girl would figure those she loved would be pleased to see her alive. In the chaos brought on by the wraiths, many had gone missing. Surely, they would assume Onni to among their victims. However, the sun-kissed former shaman could not think logically. Her heart ravaged by loneliness, the fitful interaction with Eribor, the absence of the solid support of Kri, and the stark emptiness of her soul without the healing magic of Light wore her to little more than a thin image of her former self. The courage she had felt in defending the Dragon's Throat against the unicorns was gone, despite the ugly scar upon her cheek as a reminder. The grit of her spirit from her mother disappeared with the small bay mare. Robbed of her conviction, her heart, the Illuminant pensively stood.
Frozen.
Pale sky eyes watch the horizon, and then she sees it. In the distance, a pyre of flames mirroring the Holy flames of the Seer flare in the distance. Like a moth to light, her face turns in its direction. A bellow of a call rings out afterward, echoing across the floor of Helovia. A male voice, so blatantly different than the beckoning Onni remembered upon the sands, but a voice she recognized. "Gaucho," the mare breathes. He lives. The pulsating light in the distance continues and, mesmerized, the Illuminant walks toward the beacon.
With each step further into the land of the Sun God, the painted mare feels her body begin to warm. Despite the cold of Frostfall, the spirit of her body begins to burn with purpose. Sunfire lighting a hearth in her body, life flowing through her limbs. The golden iridescence of her form reflected once more to through her eyes. Like walking through the healing fire itself, her body changing, reforming into the Shaman of past. A smile softly upon her lips, Onni speeds her gait, cantering quietly toward the fires sailing through the air.
When the distance is closed, mere blots in the horizon forming into full figured bodies, the Illuminant slows. Her steps are airy, and she moves toward the growing cluster of pegasus with quiet confidence. Looking toward Gaucho and Sohalia, standing before the gathering. Obviously, they held the position of leaders among those gathered, though just a quick glance among the crowd drew questions she would likely never have answered.
Soft eyes turning toward Gaucho, now embraces by fires upon his wings, a sheepishly greeting slipping through her mouth. "If you will have me."
It was cold even here. Even under the warm touches of his wolf hide the golden shivered. He had forgotten how cold a desert could get at night and in the winter. Reaching his twin horned head around he pulled at the white fur, twisting it to lay more squarely on his back. It was not the only new thing he carried. Upon his brow sat an innocent looking circlet, woven with twisting branches of silver, centered on a white stone. I wouldn’t make fun of it if I were you though. You’d hate to see what it opened in to, and more so, the gold was excited to use it too. Be warned.
Today though, he was not aiming to find trouble. Having laid low in this land for many weeks the gold was feeling bolder. No one had ever officially accepted him, but that wasn’t a problem for the gold. Any lie would satisfy them. Besides, the wolf hide on his back proved he could be useful, both as a fighter, and crafter of hides for the cold desert nights. He kept secret his sly skills, lease suspicion grow. Not much had been discovered of this place. It was obviously a quiet peaceful land as far as he could tell. So when, on this cold morning he heard a call rise above the dunes, the golden was more than ready to answer. The golden though had a curious feeling, that call sounded familiar.
Of course. The gold crested the far dune to be greeted by the sun opening to that fire bird warrior. He quickly covers his disappointment, and was that a hint of aggression? If that native son found out the golden was here, well, it wouldn’t go over smoothly. Always trusting he could worm himself out of any problem and confident in the new trophies he was not worried of his safety, but his task. He’d paid too much to get here, the stiffness in his hip reminded that every morning.
So slipping into the gathering the gold hide towards the back, trying best as he could not to look suspicious. There were others about this place, and each was taken in with note. A black and blue mare with a fierce look about her. An amber mare he’d met before as well that he kept on the other side of. A black, white, and gold bird of not much note. A white mare of such great purity in contrast to the fierce natures of the priors who came beside the dire bird ever so lovingly. Then a glowing bird, who requests entrance into the herd from the pair. Obviously Gaucho had regained his memory. Great. Just great. So the golden takes note of all that happens and joins the gathering towards the back as a pleasant, humble member. Luckily he was good actor. So no hint of his inner thoughts come across his face. To anyone looking, he was smiling pleasantly, nodding to all who looked his way, waiting to hear what the lead had to say without getting in everyone else’s way, though he never did make eye contact with the fire bird.
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date. No time to say hello, goodbye - I'm late, I'm late, I'm late! Or at least it sure seems like it, but being late to herd meetings is sort of a trend for me. Fashionably late - or obnoxiously so? Who knows, who cares? I've been distracted.. Once again, I am looking for my beloved. We've been separated, doing our own things after our last patrol together. And now it seems I can't find her. But surely I will see her at this herd meeting. She's one of the two Sultanas, doesn't she have to be there? And yet, I've heard no call from her nor seen Silas tearing after me in the sky. Anxiety jumps from nerve to nerve inside me, putting me on edge. I try to take a deep breath and remember that everything is going to be alright. There's no way we will be separated ever again. And yet.... A gnawing feeling fills me and I can't shake it, no matter how hard I try.
Yes, the herd meeting. She must be there. I see the gathering that has formed and hasten to it, blood red eyes searching in vain for my beloved. No one knows me as she does, no one loves me, heats my blood nor cools my temper. She is my destined other, but I cannot find her here among the others. The others that I barely even know. Gaucho, Sohalia.. but none of the other faces are ones that I am familiar with. I approach Sohalia, and whisper to her. "Sohalia my Sultana - please, have you seen Africa?" I cannot lose her again.
WC: 278 Silk doesn't know that Gaucho got his memory OR that Africa is no longer Sultana/is missing.
Bellow 'cross the sands lifts head from the bone-deep chill of the water, droplets sliding free of pale whiskers, ripples the only remaining reminder of his presence. In a cloud of dust he spins on heel, the claws of his bonded digging deep in preparation for flight. Massive angel wings unfurl from sides baring ribs and kissing shadows between hollows of skin. With the pervasive dangers of the world increasing, there is no leniency for hesitance and lingering, for it could mean the difference between living on another season and crippling themselves beneath the evils they sought to eradicate.
The chilled winds are only more ferocious in the elevated plane he travels on, his companion a creature of cold reveling in the changes. Teeth clench to ward off the chill, and in his heart he fears for the little one beneath the skeleton tree. They are one in the same, waning as the temperatures drop, becoming ghosts in the winter grips until their bones rattle like voodoo trinkets. Helpless children of the sun, wasting away with no vitality lent through benevolent rays and tendrils of diaphanous light.
As he sags from the air, joints aching with his own weakness useless, broken, WEAK as a shake dislodges what minuscule reminder of cold he can eradicate. But as his eyes sweep across the gathered crowd, air seizes in his lungs, and suddenly the tremble of his knees is not borne of chill. Ilaria is first to cry out in recognition, claws digging deep as her voice resounds to borderline painful levels in the stallion's mind.
ONNI!
Whether it is the force of her call or his own desires to see the beautiful child who had saved his life, he stumbles pathetically forward in a daze of fearful hope. Collects himself with what little will remains in his frame and strides toward her, hushing the noisy beast on his shoulders. It would embarrass them both if she were to draw too much attention. "Onni," is all he can suffice to say, a breath of flickering awe and a tentativeness borne of consistent abandonment. Has she truly returned?
He cannot help but to linger at her side, even as Ilaria fondly helps collect the scattered shards of his tired mind danger, so much danger, how can he help his family if he doesn't stay awake? and forces him to rebuild the walls of his facade. Smiling and nodding at familiar faces before squaring a jaw too boyish for the act and staring up at Gaucho and Sohalia. Does not question the seriously, again? This is pathetic, we're broken, broken, DOOMED change of leadership. Instead awaits, the complacent soldier, for whatever task is to be lain across his shoulders once again.
I'll protect you till the day I'll meet my maker, so don't fight me now 'cause you might need me later
10-26-2014, 07:34 PM (This post was last modified: 10-26-2014, 07:36 PM by Amani.)
Amani
Just A Picture To Burn
The call that rank out for all of us was a strange voice to me. I do not know it, yet something tells me I must answer. I lift my frame from the desert sands, shaking lightly to remove dust even though I know by now there will be none. Some sort of magic, I can only guess it was passed down from my Momma to me, keeps me clean and beautiful at all times.
I had grown in my time here in Helovia, even more so since I came to call the Throat home. My mane had grown long, as had my tail that now hung just barely above the sand. My wings were strong, I just needed to work with how to use them.
As I arrived, I saw many faces that I did not know. My golden eyes looked for one face, and a slight frown crossed my lips as I did not spy Cera. I miss him so. Perhaps he was busy since our patrol into the Caves. With a sigh I turn to the one who had seemed to call us all here, the stallion with antlers and black wings. Could he be taking the place of one of the Sultanas? I have not seen either leader since joining, but always knew they were around. I can not help but look around again, just to make sure my best friend was not already here. I can only hope he will arrive soon. Is it normal for a best friend to miss the other this much?
Then there he is! But instead of greeting me, he goes to another who seems to of been gone for so very long. I smile, and wait. I am just a friend after all, one who can easily fade into the background when need be.
"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."
Please Tag Amani in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Amani at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.
They arrive before some and after others, drawn by the eagles and their new Lord's cry. It is strange, she thinks, that leadership has changed again so soon; she remembers her youth under the crown of her aunt, the tales of Mirage's reign since the birth of the Qian. She remembers the time she fled to the throat- was not a mare named Kri queen, then? She'd met a kind patchwork girl- where was she? A thought strikes her, making her stomach roll. Who now leads the Edge, and why hasn't she sought to find out before? She knows that Kaj is the King, but who rules by his side, filling the void left by her kin?
Part of her does not wish to know, but part is aware that she must find out. It is her third winter, and she can no longer lie to ease herself to sleep. It's time to grow up. It's time to be brave.
She looks at the group assembled, surprised to feel recognition for all but two, disappointed that Sacre and Kari are not among the throng. Where is her friend, and the fragile child? What of Lace, where has he gone? Amaris? Fleeting ghosts come to bring her hope, before dashing her dreams on the desert shore. Why will not anyone stay? What is it about her, which drives them all away?
She stands to the side, but Natraj bounds ahead, darting between legs and barking to companions, grinning at those he knows, holding his head to display the bronze oak leaf emblazoned upon his brow. She can feel his delight, and it eases her mind, makes her relax with a hoof cocked back. Black paws step lightly over winter sand; he is mirth, and delight... until something makes him stop. The girl feels the rush of anger, the searing weight of his hatred and fear. She doesn't have to through his eyes to know what caused his distress.
Natraj, leave her alone! Come back!
The kitsune growls, but quietly complies, for once letting her be the calm in the storm. Why is she here? he asks her, enraged. Why did she come back?
I don't know, the girl replies, soft, as her brother roughly climbs up the braids in her tail. Why does anything ever change for the worse?
"Sed interdum rutrum urna, sed pellentesque sapien tempor in."
Serenity Feel the wind pass through my body, I am one with your soul...
Serenity watched as those near her began to travel toward something... she frowned, following as well. Certainly they knew more than she. When she arrived, the cool winter's air chilling her, she saw so many strange faces, and all of them made her nervous. The star-kissed mare frowned, going to the only one she felt she knew more than the others: Ampere. The gold and blue, awkward mare made her way over to her, standing close but not too close - just on the fridges. Nervously, she eyed their massive, male lead - not entirely sure what to make of him.
A big, blue ocean behemoth swam over her head, and Serenity watched it with delight, a big smile on her face. The creature was so beautiful, and instead of paying any attention to what was going on, she was enthralled by the static. What else was there for her to listen to, after all? She was no one, and no one would mind if she had simply not shown up at all. Right?
"That's really pretty," she whispered to Ampere.
Moments later, some fox-like thing approached rather abruptly, and Serenity snorted, recoiling. She watched then as it stopped, going back to a golden girl. Why would she have this fox-like creature? Why was it so upset? Now, out of this entire meeting, she wanted to know the answer to those questions. So, she watched the sunny girl and her fox-thing, not paying attention to much else.
there was a time that the pieces fit
but i watched them fall away
As silent as always, you slink into the back of the growing group, Ouija tucked comfortably beneath your body and between both fore once you stop. While just having discovered her voice, the kit babbles in a child-like way in your mind almost constantly. You can't say that you're not proud of your growing companion, but the additional voice in the empty cavern of your mind seems so loud and overwhelming that sometimes you cringe against it. Happy eyes look up at you, failing to connect eyes, but you can feel the pride swelling in her heart. A dry grin turns your lips, "I know. Good job." you whisper for only the fox's ears to hear.
Now that you're packed into the lively group, you glance around, noting that once more you are not the only wingless one here. A sigh of relief exists your rummy nostrils, Ouija disregarding your lack of comfort as it dawns on you that your sweet Africa isn't present. Now confused and worried, you look around once more, head rising high into the air to look over the thicket of wings and bulk all around you; Ampere stands inside the small herd, and a thick, brutish stallion stands before everyone, dawning your attention.
Your throat becomes dry and tight, the thought of something horrible happening to Africa making your mind race; of course we throw in some terrifying scenes, including (but not limited to) axes, wolves, fire, and giant birds picking at her spilled brains. Jaws clench tight in your hot mouth, anger ripping like the flames of a wild fire. We laugh manically, your stance now refusing to relax and now finding itself tense and on-guard. 'Your feathery friend is likely dead- we are interrupted by a low growl in your mind. Ouija - from the ground - lays her ears back, staring ahead at the group of strangers but understanding what it is that is happening in your mind.
Maybe this is what this meeting is for.. Maybe the stallion with the antlers and wings will explain what is going on.
Herd meetings. I don't really understand the point yet. All I know is Astraeus said that I had to come. I would rather be practicing flying - after all, it isn't like they are going to give me a job yet ...
Suddenly I feel cold all over, like my legs are shaking from the inside, like they are jello that is about to crumble into the sands. Am I going to get a job?! I don't know why but I sort of thought that there would be ... I don't know, more time? More time to be young? I am not having an existential crisis by any means, but it does suddenly occur to me that because of who my parents are, my life is going to be different than the lives of other foals. I have more responsibility and expectations placed upon me. I know this. I know one day I will have to be a warrior like Father, and I will have to do Mother proud in all of my activities but ... but for now I just want to be a kid. I want to be a kid because I know I will have to grow up sooner than others will.
I will be ready when the time comes. But surely the time isn't now ?
Uncomfortably, I move towards Mother. I know that she is standing at the head of the assembled group, but suddenly I don't care. I feel small, and young, and confused. I just want her. She is beautiful - perhaps made more so by her stark contrast to Father. He looks so stern and strong, whereas Mother simply is. She is holy and pure, perfect and pristine. I adore her, as only young boys can adore their mothers. I shuffle towards her - although as I near the top of the group I attempt to pick up my feet slightly more. People will probably be looking at me, in so far as I am an extension of her. The burning embers that appear under my wings pulse with the beat of my heart.
"Mother." I gently whisper as I pivot to stand at her side.
The fire of the seer began to burn harsher, the normally calm flames raging. In an instant, the flames turned into a spiral, twirling and howling with power, and it began to take the shape of his equine body. Flames faded into the iridescent gold of his coat and his figure began to solidify until he stepped from the embers, looking at the large gathering. His heart swelled with pride at the numbers that showed, impressed at the camaraderie of his herd.
Unfortunately, he had to deliver news that was both good and bad, and he was never keen on that type. The God approached with ease, confidence, even though his mind was troubled about the events on the island. He came to stand by Gaucho, looking out among the faces that had gathered. "Welcome, Dragon's Throat herd," he said, voice powerful and booming. I regret to inform you that Africa is no longer your lead, but I am pleased to announce that Gaucho has earned another chance." The way he spoke offered no room for argument.
"Dark times are coming, and you will need strength and warriors to protect yourselves," he said, his only explanation. "I will be here to answer a few questions at the conclusion of your meeting, but for now, I will allow your leads room to speak."
Gaucho was not at all surprised that Ampere followed swiftly behind him. Part of him knew that she would, and for that he was relieved. For all of his new found confusion about her, he was reminded that he could still count on her in certain respects. His stormy gaze fell upon her before the flurry of others arrived, unspoken words with ambiguous meaning passing from his stormy gaze to hers. How much did she understand? How much did he?
His gaze fell onto Bucephalus and Sikeax - but was immediately drawn away by Sohalia. The pale Sultana came to his side easily and naturally. "Kahleesi" He whispered back, his gaze growing gentle and warm just for a moment as the words left his lips. He studied her face in that instant, loosing himself in her bi-coloured gaze. In his antlers, Mara hissed warmly to the Sultana, stretching her pale face out of her perch in Gaucho's antlers by way of greeting. The moment could not last - happily broken by a new, but old arrival.
Onni. But to Gaucho, she would always be oommmnnnnneee - the one name he never bothered to pronounce correctly, although he didn't think the girl minded too much. As she neared, the warm light from her own body mingled with that given off by Gaucho's flames and antlers, bathing the area in a serene glow. "Always." He responded simply, but with a heartfelt warmth. He had a long history with the healer, who had fixed his body more times than he could recall. Her place would always be here, as would his, regardless of how long they were away.
For the second time, the WildFire's gaze failed to pick out Thranduil from the sands. Such a pity. It would have been so dramatic if he had.
He sees the children - for that is how he will always think of them - arrive. Cera, Amani, Tandavi. They have grown. None are children anymore, and all have done something worthy of praise and admiration. But the WildFire remembers a time, under the guidance of Kri, when they were young and awkward. He does not see the hardness upon Cera's face, seeing him only as the Golden Boy that he was from season's past.
Two more arrive, one - the impossibly beautiful Serenity whom Gaucho only knew from patrolling, and Voodoo, a stallion relatively unknown to him. The last to arrive was one of his sons, who stood proudly next to Sohalia.
As the light from the fire burst into life, yielding their patron God, Gaucho stood taller. The flames on the dun's wings paled in comparison with the molten fire that dripped and dazzled upon the God's lithe form, as he drew near. In the grand scheme of things, it was almost poetic that Gaucho would take Africa's place. After all, she had filled in for him when he had disappeared after the Wraith Invasion - should he not fill in for her now, in her absence?
Gaucho nodded to his leader, curling his dark muzzle inwards until it touched his chest. "Not disappoint." The WildFire murmured, knowing that the Sun God already knew the contents of his mind and soul. At the conclusion of the Sun God's words, Gaucho looked out to the assembled herd. His stormy gaze surveyed them for a moment, as Mara quickly placed in his mind the changes that He and Sohalia had discussed.
"Cera bring words from Sun God - and Sun God say now: Dark times come. Throat survived before, and we survive now. Together we are strong, together we will not break." Looking to Sohalia, he nodded confirmingly as he listed the new changes within their ranks: Onni would return to her position as Sun Physician, with Alija and Sikeax as healers. Cera, having well fulfilled his position as Diviner, would become their Forger, strengthening the borders of the Throat against possible attacks, with the help of Bucephalus. Taking his place is Tandavi, with the aid of Amani, their only disciple. Silk through his efforts and skill would be their Sleuth.
"Gaucho will pick a Gladiator." He concluded finally, eyeing the group finding only one candidate truly suitable. His gaze fell upon Ampere, drowning out all others. In the crowd, he saw only electric blue. "Gaucho and Ampere will go to Island to investigate Cera's warning." He asserted. This was not a part of the discussion he had had previously with Sohalia. While the politics of the herd was something they had discussed at length, his military decisions were ones he kept to himself. Although Ampere made the most sense, part of him suspected that Sohalia would not be pleased with the idea of the two of them flying solo to the Island. Still, the decision made sense. They were the most agile, most trained, and most experienced. If there truly was danger, he knew Ampere would be able to handle herself and make necessary decisions should it come to that. She was his best chance of returning safety - surely Sohalia would be able to understand that?
"Foothills bring us warning too. Say that worms attacked. Sun God is right - darkness is there. We bring His light. Once we know what we face, we decide what to do."
Looking now to Sohalia, his gaze stern but confident, he nodded.
The herd had never been stronger. All positions except one were filled. If the Throat was to face a threat now, they would do so boldly and without fear. Even though it was Frostfall, the light of the Sun was still around them, as it always would be. And in places where the Sun's light could not reach, Gaucho would be a beacon for them.
The WildFire's greeting was subtle but poignant, and the dove offered a sweet smile in his direction as their sons joined the leading pair of the Dragon's Throat. Rhoa was the first to arrive, his whispered hello serving to calm any lingering nerves in her system. Ivezho was not far behind, though he slipped alongside after the meeting had already begun.
The God of the Sun appeared in a sudden shower of flame, making Gaucho's constant flickering seem pale in comparison. The Sultana bowed her head deeply with respect, a welcoming smile on her lips. The god's words rang through the assembled, leaving her warm and comfortable. His unspoken approval (for surely he would speak out if he thought her incompetent) did much to bolster her confidence, and she continued to wait in silence as Gaucho took the lead.
Her mouth twisted slightly at the discussion of Cera's warning. She had known that the seeming peace that covered Helovia was too good to be true. There would always be darkness in the world, a fact that she had seen proven true time and again. She had just hoped that it would steer clear of the Dragon's Throat when it came. Of course, her mate and fellow leader was not one to leave the shadows unexplored, so she might have expected to be thrown into the middle of it all. That Ampere would accompany him left her with mixed emotions: the logical part of her knew that the blue was the best for the job, but a niggling concern in the back of her mind reminded her of old grudges, old fears.
She decided that she would not give in to that particular weakness.
"Congratulations to all of you," she said with a smile, her voice flowing over the gathered herd. She spoke with a quiet determination and calm, sure of herself and her position. "We are so pleased to welcome you into your new positions. However, as Gaucho has explained, we cannot allow our growth as a herd to become complacency. Let us fight as one against whatever darkness lurks on Caela Insula, bringing our God's light into the shadows." She bowed her head for a moment, as though in prayer; and although the Sun God stood nearby, she could not help a small devotion slipping from her mind.
"But let us welcome, too, happier news! We have thought long and hard about the direction that our herd should take, and we have found that we have much to offer not only within our borders, but to those outside as well. I hope you will share in my enthusiasm - we are to open an Academy to teach the arts of war, magic, and wisdom. Any will be free to join, and our school will be something to bind our herd and our land irrevocably to the future of Helovia." Her heart fluttered nervously, for she wanted nothing more than for her idea to be met with excitement and glee.
10-31-2014, 12:07 PM (This post was last modified: 10-31-2014, 02:04 PM by Onni.)
onni.</style>
Always.
The sun-kissed healer smiles contentedly, perhaps for the first time in months, as her old friend as he welcomes her with open wings. The worry in her heart ceasing almost immediately, the wracking, terrified pounding halting as she eases into the thought that... she is home. After months of seeking the trails of a mare destined to never return, Onni had come home. Her pale eyes scan the crowd for a moment, seeing no sign of Midas. Worry grows in her brow for a brief moment before the hushed sound of her own name perks here attention.
The voice is familiar, yet different than she ever imagined. Her pale face turns to look directly into expectant, dumbfounded emerald eyes. The golden boy she had not seen in over a year - Cera. His body now grown, towering over her own form now. "Hello, Cera. You have grown in my absence," she says quietly, a smile forming on her face once more before soliciting further information. "Is your father well?" a whisper, not wanting to speak over the newly crowned Sultan. Still, the need to ascertain her old friend was well overrode the hesitations she would otherwise have felt.
Within a few brief moments, a great hush fell over Onni's soul. The fires of the Seer begin to rage, and, filled with childish hope, the Illuminant's eyes dart to face the inferno. Heart still within her chest, breath captured within her lungs, every fiber of her being stands upon point as the golden image of the Sun emerges. A peaceful smile radiates from her face as she breathes outward, head immediately kneeling forward in respect to his appearance. After leaving the sands of the Dragon's Throat for so long, she had much to make up for. To earn the respect of the Sun God once more, she would need to watch her actions carefully.
The eloquence with which he speaks delights Onni, but the contents of his words are troubling. Darkness... it would never stave from Helovia for long. Glancing toward Sohalia, expecting her to take up the majority of the speech, the Illuminant is surprised to hear Gaucho's deep voice rumbling with a semblance of normal prosody. The mare remembers a time when he had struggled with many simple phrases... names, her own included. Another reminder of how long she had been gone. His words bring her eyes to fall upon Ampere, a black mare glazed with black that she vaguely remembered seeing... somewhere. Her features were familiar, but perhaps more alarming was the yellow feather tucked within her mane. Voltaic, she thinks briefly, pausing to stare perhaps a bit longer than needed. The weight of the small pouch containing the fragmented katana suddenly felt under her wing.
Surely, the feather could not belong to her fallen mentor. Could it?
Sohalia breathes hope into the herd with her words of strength, and Onni's attention is refocused. Onni's eyes fall toward the ground, having little to offer to this Academy. Not particularly wise, not particularly schooled in magic, and only formerly familiar with the arts of war. Even now, after all of these years, the only thing she could do was serve as a vessel for the light of the Sun. Why had she thought it wise to ever leave this place?
She knew she was very VERY late to the herd meeting, but she just could not draw her thoughts away from herself. Sighing heavily the mare cantered through the sand trying to soak up every last glimmer of sunshine. She was still blown away by this cold her desert home had become, and how quickly it had gotten this way. Shivering the pink, purple, and golden horned mare moved into a lope rushing to get to the herd meeting. When she finally arrived she was stunned to see the God of the Sun standing among them. She gaped standing quietly at the back of the pack ogling at her God a little away from her family. She listened to his words mystified wondering what had happened to cause such a terrible warning. Once the flaming God was done speaking another with feathery wings spoke. 'So he is our new leader.' She wondered sadly why Africa had stepped down from the position. She could feel sad tears pricking at the backs of her steel blue eyes before she shoved them away.
Something wicked was coming and her herd needed her now to be strong and well prepared for the worst. What if this darkness took over and hurt others? She needed to go collect herbs and keep them all together. She gazed quietly around at her family before watching the Sun God memorized. He was going to be answering questions just for the general public? To bad she didn't have anything to ask.
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"Lyrics" 'Ponderings'
Words: 252
OOC: Sorry it is so short and late!
Please tag Alija! All magic and physical force is acceptable to any degree besides killing her.
11-02-2014, 12:45 AM (This post was last modified: 11-02-2014, 12:51 AM by Cera.)
In all Cera's seasons, he had never anticipated looking down at the healer whom had saved his life. She had been larger than life through his colthood, and he had perhaps placed her on a pedestal. But the scar on his chest, the life in his lungs, was because of her. His dumbfounded expression softened into a warm, tired smile. She was safe. She was alive. What more could he ask for? Her sweet lyrics coated his ears and he shyly glanced down at his hooves, for he was helpless against the magic of mares. Ilaria merely snorted in amusement at his foolishness. The respite she had given him from the irritation, the chill of his heart that resonated on his face, was shattered in the next moment. His face fell to granite. "You would have to seek out the new lead of the Hidden Falls, miss Onni." The terse response is all she gets, and his face is hard and expressionless as it turns back to the matters at hand.
The appearance of the Sun God lifted his heart, his knees feeling weaker as the iron that had welded them straight in his mind-numbing exhaustion melted away. As much as he trusted the God's decisions, he could not withhold a snort of contempt to hear Gaucho anointed as lead for the second time. Oh yes, the beloved stallion of Helovia, why wouldn't he get another chance after abandoning his family for seasons? Ilaria growled softly and swatted at his neck, irritated with his bitterness. But privately she felt only sorrow, gazing down on the hardened shards of her prince. He had been abandoned and left to isolation too many times, his heart had tired of trust and second chances.
How Cera felt the loss of his Lord was unable to be worded, for there was no official change of ranks. It was a blow to his soul, a chunk of it ripping free into nothingness that nearly sent him to his knees. It wasn't painful in a way that could be explained through physicality, but it scorched his mentality until he felt like a hollow shell, staring into a void of despair. His gaze was empty and cold as it fell to the sands, Sohalia's pathetically sweet and cheerful words falling to static. Why? Why had he been cast from his position? How had he failed them? He had lived by the shrine, tending it and seeking his Lord with care and consistency, spreading the Sun's word to the youth and attentive adults of the herd.
What had he done wrong this time?
The magic is still there, a shroud upon his shoulders, an unspoken rank that he must clearly follow up on with his leaders. But the loss is too much for him to take. Nothing can replace the pride of Diviner, the hole that his Lord had filled when he had been lonelier than he cared to admit. Even the spoken promotion to Forger does not heal the new wound on his heart. It seemed even achieving what he'd wanted since colthood could not soothe the pain of his own recognzied uselessness. They do not dismiss him, and he is blatantly insolent in what he does next, but his soul has taken too hard of a beating through Onni's words and his demotion to remain around any longer. As if they deserve the respect of me waiting for their dismissal he bitterly muses. Ilaria remains silent this time, and though she knows him better than any other, her very soul intertwined with his...she fears his chaotic thoughts in that moment.
He turns and strides through those surrounding him, walking across the sands with Gaucho and his newest shiny pet at his back. Leaving them to find solace beneath the magnolia, mourn the apparent uselessness of his mind and body as an addition to his herd.
I'll protect you till the day I'll meet my maker, so don't fight me now 'cause you might need me later
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