There was something wrong, and panic rang through the breast of the dark princess. She was frantic, her canter haphazard as she chased after the scent of her father. It was almost as if he disappeared into the majestic blue lava, but Aviya knew better than that, and so she searched. She continued to search for what seemed like an eternity before her cloven hooves stilled for mere seconds. It was instantaneous, the cloud forming at her ankles. It was like her magic, and she felt like she could not move. A sharp breath of shock was the only noise she made, however, as she began lifting off the ground and towards the sky. The fuck--!? This was a first, and she looked around with wide blue eyes. In the distance an island formed, floating in the sky with nothing holding it up. Wide eyes narrowed skeptically. This place had never existed before in her life in Helovia, but perhaps the gods enjoyed playing tricks on the mortals.

Once her elegant hooves hit solid earth again Aviya galloped. She galloped towards a line of trees, quick to get away from the cliffs edge. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she came to a halt. That was something the girl did not want to experience again, but knew in the back of her mind she would have to to return to her home. Sighing, the assassin let her head hang low for a few moments, crystalline eyes closing as she caught her breath. As she inhaled deeply, a familiar, musky scent entered her system once more and she remembered her initial mission. Father! Her crowned head snapped up, ears perked and eyes wide as she scanned the island. Her frosted hair caught in the breeze, reminiscent of the summer, for the winter's touch had not reached this island. The wind carried his scent easily, and Aviya surged after it.

Her run was only a few minutes long, and in the distance a fuzzy bay figure emerged. Slowing as the yards between them decreased, Aviya finally was walking by the time she was as near to the poisoner as his cave in the Basin was wide. His rage was seething, his body fuming. Aviya knew her father well, and this anger was not the usual cloud of angst and hatred that followed him. No, this was something different, something wrong, something provoked. With a furrowed brow and crooked head, the Doctor's daughter finally spoke. "Daddy?" She sounded like a foal, like she had the winter she was born. Her voice was soft and fragile, tones of the once sickly filly ringing through it. She was truly concerned for this man before her, her father, her strength, her rock, her teacher.


@[d'Artagnan]

His screaming did nothing to abate his churning anger as his frame dithered and he paced restlessly. Distress lined his every feature as his life went through the worst storm it had ever encountered. The shade would rather be exiled a thousand times over than feel this pain, he’d rather watch his own sire and dam fall into the pits of hell than lose her. It left him wondering why the world was so captivated on making his whole existence a laughable misery and horses wondered why he was so mad and twisted?! A short snort escaped his nostrils, filled with bitterness and anger, as he stared at the bark that littered the floor. Was this all he was capable of? Worthless the thought wrapped around his mind like a vice grip of self loathing. Aramis frowned at his broken friend with his tail lashing from side to side. That is what you’ll become if you remain this way the Mender didn’t much care for his hounds condescending attitude and was about to march off in another direction until a familiar voice caught in his ears.

Sickness formed at the pit of his stomach as he slowly turned to look into those same blue eyes he had watched fade away just days ago. Atop her head was a horn made of glass that was broken, much like his own, she was their daughter in every way. Aviya was his pride and a mare with the true spirit of a Basin soldier, the Doctor believed her love for her kin was pure and she was strong because of it. Yet, the expression he offered her now was not one of the usual love and pride he would have greeted her with on any other normal day. Instead his body became rigid and his gaze darkened in sorrow as he looked across to her pretty white face. If there were any he had failed in his entire life then it would be his children.

It was the turn of the Reaper to appear before him then. His bestial like form stalking into the fray of the Nightshades restless internal battle that had escaped from his lips not too long ago. He had been hoping for an innocent looking none horn to turn up that he could have quite happily have ripped to pieces, but the company he was in was important and for a moment he took solace in their presence. He had a painful tale to tell, however, and soon a shaky sigh passed through his lips as he prepared to address the two. One his blood, the other an old comrade turned Lord. ”Kou has been murdered” there, he said it. There was no fancy turn of words he could muster as he spat the sentence from his mouth. ”I want to know who did it and I want them to feel this same pain before I slide my horn into their chest” he seethed. He wanted the heathen who dared take away his Nurse to live in the same hell as he before taking away their life.

There was a moment in his anger where he looked upon his daughter once again and his lips formed into a thin grimace. He had just told her that her mother had been killed and he hadn’t been able to stop it from happening. ”I’m sorry” the words cut through him like a knife.

Everything froze as her father turned to look at her, his expression something she had only seen a faint glimpse of in the past--when she was shaking with her coughing fits. It was the look of sorrow and fear, and Aviya only guessed when she was a child that the Nightshade had been afraid of losing her. Her brows knit together, a look of honest, sincere concern washing over her. She wanted to step forward and nuzzle her father, hold him in a warm embrace, let him know what whatever was troubling him was going to be okay. He was strong. He was superior. He was d'Artagnan the Nightshade. No one could defeat him. No one.

Aviya's ears flicked gently and she lifted her crowned head--albeit broken--and looked into the cerulean eyes of her Lord. She dropped her gaze respectively to his cloven hooves, much like her own, and nodded to him gently. He seemed to show some semblance of concern for his Time Mender as well, and there was some determination in his steely voice that gave the Doctor's daughter the confidence that whatever her father was fighting against, Deimos would take up arms with him as well. Blinking once, twice, she turned her icy eyes back to her father's mismatched hues, and that was when her world crashed in around her.

"Kou...murdered...I'm sorry."

It felt like Aviya was being thrown into a vacuum, being suffocated beyond her control. But she was still frozen, staring at her father. At first, she did not believe the words she heard fall from his mouth onto the floor like shattered glass. No. Momma Kou--No, no, no-- Panic fluttered again in her chest, and suddenly, her jaw dropped some and she began to shudder. From staring at her father, Aviya was not staring through him, at nothing. The only sound she could hear was her own blood pounding in her ears. Her legs felt cold, but her face felt hot. Her vision blurred as white hot tears formed carefully, tentatively. It was only a millisecond before her eyelids were overrun, the dam they were broken, and tears flowed down her pale cheeks. She sobbed, still staring through her father. Her body was racked with her sobs, breathlessly she gasped, trying to gather herself. Her heart hammered against her breast, and in a crumpled heap, the dark princess fell to her knees.
@[d'Artagnan]

He let the wave of sorrow and loss pass over him into the ravine of anger and revengeful purpose. Perhaps he would spend his whole life looking for the perpetrator who caused the cold feeling in his stomach, but he would simply roll over and rest. It appeared fate had decided he was never to rest. Even after death, he was sure his spirit would still wander or at least hope it would finish the job if he could not in his own lifetime. He imagined the days would pass slowly now as he struggled on a never-ending road that had no light at the end of it. Maybe he deserved it, but he wasn’t going to accept it. The Doctors frigid gaze watched the bodice of his eldest daughter fall and he left her on her knees to grieve, there were no words he could offer her that would soothe the ache in her heart. She would recover in her own time and he hoped she would take this hurt and turn it into power. Strength. Make a better life for herself and her legacy than he had. Aviya would live on in glory and he would die a lonely cold death.

He nodded once to acknowledge the Reapers offer of condolence and quickly understood why he was so fond of the fellow. He never spoke more than needed. Right now the Doctor was glad he was so stiff, there was nothing worse than an overly dramatic response when ones heart was already in enough turmoil. When d’Artagnan turned back to the deathly stallion he looked upon him not as a Lord, but as a friend.

The last question brought a raw twisted smile to his already trembling lips, how indeed could this death dealer assist? By swinging his reaping blade through the heart of the one who committed the offence? No, that would be the Menders job. Perhaps he would lead the culprit to deaths door, heal him and beat him up all over again. Divine! Before he lost track of his thoughts down the road of grim torture and completely forgot he had an audience, the shade turned to Deimos with a chilly, unforgiving gaze. ”Look for a culprit. Anything suspicious. Even if you have to look within our own family” d’Artagnan was all too familiar with ruthless family politics that often lead to fatalities. Though what Kou could’ve done to cause such hatred the Mender was at a loss. ”Perhaps tell the herd too? Someone might know something.”

With that he turned his attention back to his broken daughter and watched as Aramis padded over to her. The hound put his body next to hers and pushed her to stand with all his might, he too cared for the girl after all. ”Aviya stand. Your mother would want you to proudly face the world than cower to it.” Although his words were harsh his voice took on a softer tone, the Doctor had no experience in tender parenting and he waited patiently to see if the girl could recompose herself.