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02-12-2015, 01:01 PM
She had never truly appreciated the stunning appearance she might have presented to others. For many years she had wished desperately for a far grander pelt – golden like Rasta or Tilney, painted like Rei or Midas – anything but the awful bleak storm patterned across her bones. Always she had been a daisy amongst the roses in Helovia, and the loss of her wing nearly three years ago had only reinforced that lack of self-worth; so too had the meeting between the God of the Sun and his Diviner (she would never forget the anticlimax in his expression the first time he had set his blazing gaze upon her). It was he, the God she had revered so faithfully, that prompted her quest for flames. Africa wanted more than anything to be something worth more than a comedown – disappointed expectations. She had won the right to wear his flames, but then in an unexpected twist of fate, the population was hurled from their homelands and forced to shelter beneath the earth and the one-winged mare was torn from her position. When they re-emerged, the Sun fancifully placed the insipid mind upon the throne of His land (a mistake it soon became apparent), though she had not a fierce enough character, ambition to maintain such responsibility – and never did that patron notice the flames she had dressed in for His sake. Now, they were only a painful reminder of all the many shortfalls her life entailed... Africa was glad Tilney found merit in their existence – he was possibly the first so attracted by their undeniable beauty. If ever there had been a way to capture them, and hand them across, she would have been rid of their cursed memories in a heartbeat. He spoke and she was still grinning, tides of pointlessly spiralling thought well masked from his view (though once transparent, the dapple grey had learned well enough the arts of burying her feelings). “Would you like to come with me to Hidden Falls?” she asked not long after the tenor of his voice had faded into the tranquillity around them once more. “...it isn’t a prison sentence I promise (she laughed softly), you would be welcome to explore Helovia as you like, but it is always nice to have sound foundations - I think.” Pale eyes studied him thoughtfully, and she recalled the moment the Gallant had set a similar precedent for her – Africa had been young and foolish, a magnet for misfortune.  |
