"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.
02-24-2015, 11:38 PM (This post was last modified: 03-05-2015, 08:57 PM by Rhoa.)
Rhoa
Like ships in the night
I want to do what Einarr demands, but sumultenously I want to scream that I don't know how. This thing - this girl - isn't rational! She doesn't speak my language or any other! How was I supposed to motivate this child who was so ignorant of the world as to try and nurse from Meg? Meg!
Still. I wouldn't let Father down, and somehow, by extension, that translated to Einarr. It was like whatever similarity the two held physically and verbally somehow extended into my sense of loyalty and dedication, warping the relationship that I had with the blackened warrior.
As acid rained from the skies I was shocked to find Meg's wing gently brushing over my withers. I had somehow lulled myself into this false sense of duty, of responsibility where there was no need. Meg was here - and while she could not provide milk to the unnamed child, she could certainly provide safety. I felt a lull in my mind, a serenity in the midst of this storm. This was not my fight. All was not resting upon my shoulders. There was Einarr and there was Meg. I would be an aid, a guide, but I was not their only resort.
"To the Throat!" I shouted, trying not to cringe as acid fell upon the side of me that was left uncovered by the bay's wing. I bit my lip, nearly hard enough to dray blood, but would not cry out. I would be stronger than that. Braver.
As we moved, I realized that the girl could not fly. I didn't notice that her wing had been broken, but even if it hadn't she was incapable of flight at this age. Horror struck my youthful frame as I realized that we had no way across. Neither Meg or Einarr held keys to the Throat's bridge! I felt almost..ashamed? Embarrassed? To realize that I was not a keyhold either. For all the responsibility that being a prince of the Throat entailed, apparently keys to the kingdom was not one.
"We need Father.." I mumbled hopelessly as we moved towards where the land-bridge once was.
"I'll get him - I'll - " I was nearly hyperventilating by this point. The pain on my side was so bad, and the terror so real that I could barely see straight. All I knew was that I needed to get into the air ... I need to .. just.. fly over the bridge.. Father would see.. my. wings...would help....
Dizziness descended upon me but I would not be deterred. I jumped into the air, spreading my barely burning wings. I rose higher and higher into the air, hoping to all of the Gods that Father would see me and would come. My vision grew darker as I burned up all the energy in my small body.
But I would not give up. I would be strong. I would be brave.
GAUCHO I'd bring you further roses but it does you no good.
What would have happened had it not been Gaucho's patrol? Only the Gods knew. But throughout Gaucho's life he had almost always been in the right place at the right time. Whatever destiny determined his actions had not been hasty or prone to sloth.
Gaucho was there, and he saw his son.
In the haze that covered the ocean Gaucho saw what appeared to be fire burst out of the sky. It wavered back and forth, appearing and then disappearing. For a moment Gaucho thought it was a signal - something like morse code - until he realized that it was not a what, but a who.
Rhoa.
Instantly the Wildfire took to the air with Vorsa flying by his side and Mara in his antlers. The trio soared with utmost haste towards the flashing signal - his son. Gaucho's flaming wings beat relentlessly against his flanks as he flew over the ocean. It was almost immediately apparent that Rhoa wasn't moving - that whatever his burning wings were meant to communicate it did not have to do with himself. Gaucho's stormy gaze darted downwards, where a sight that he hadn't expected suddenly appeared over the ocean's haze.
Meg and a child?
Without questioning what he saw, however bizarre, the Wildfire descended rapidly. In a flurry of blackened flaming feathers Gaucho lowered himself around the babe and his warrior, not bothering to ask questions but preferring to assess the scene for himself.
The child was far too young to fly - and Rhoa and Meg had brought her to the Throat. She needed entrance, needed a haven. The Throat would always be a haven to most, but especially those with wings, and definitely those escorted by his best warrior and his son.
"To me." The Wildfire spoke, his voice calm and confident in a sea of confusion and pain. His body moved to where the magical bridge touched the land, and, as his key activated the magic placed there by their deity, the bridge appeared. Gaucho was large, but if he shuffled close enough to Meg and the child all three would easily be transported over to the Island.
"Come." His instructions were clear, uninviting of conversation or discussion. They would get the girl to safety, the other details could be discussed later.
Each step they took away from the battle behind them helped to calm Meg’s mind. She still faught the outrageous burning on her back and her wing but her focus sharpened as her fury ebbed. Every so often she would glance behind, but she had to trust that Einarr would be victorious and not allow the deranged mother to pursue the child. She murmured encouragements and they moved; to the filly, to Gwaihir, to Rhoa, and each one was partially for herself. She had followed from the Throat expecting a fight but this was another kind of task entirely, and though she might be out of her depth, the warrior was determined to succeed.
They reached the water’s edge and before she could order him to fetch help, Rhoa seemed to verge on panic and was in the sky towards home “Calm but quick, and get a healer!” She tried to call after him but he was already on his way.
As there was no question that she would leave the filly’s side, Meg could do nothing but wait for help to come. She looked down at the little black thing, and for the first time had a moment to truly take in the horror of the situation she had crashed into. The tiny thing was covered in dirt and grime and had so obviously just come into the world. What a rude awakening... she thought, feeling her heart turn over with sympathy. Moving on instinct, the mare reached out to the child, extending the wing free of burns to pull her close and protect her from the harsh sun. Her scarred nose reached out for the little black on in an attempt at a comforting nuzzle. Meg started with the child’s face, broad tongue sweeping away the filth, and continued the attention until she heard a familiar voice.
Gaucho! She nearly sighed with relief and immediately moved to obey the order. Another nudge for the filly urging her towards where the sultan stood at the bridge. “Come on, little one, almost there” she murmured, and then stood ready for their flight.
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
There was no nourishment to be found from the mare that had stood close by and the filly mewled pitifully as she was nudged away. Rhoa's sudden movement startled the girl and she scrambled backwards, away from him and Megaera. The clumsy, awkward movement sent the girl back down to the ground where she stayed for a moment, staring wide-eyed up at the boy. Again, all of her concentration was put into rising from the ground and upon doing so she was being shepherded away from the fight by the boy and the mare. Her dam, however, had one last trick up her sleeve and another pitiful whimper slipped past the girl's lips as the acid danced across her small back before she was sheilded by the warrior mare's wing.
She trudged alone, her small hooves leaving trenches in the sand as she dragged them. Every now and again she would stop and if it were not for Meg and Rhoa pushing her along the filly would have given up, laid down in the sand, and let herself be swept away into darkness. But they were there and they pushed her forward, she concentrated on their words (even if she didn't know what they meant), pressed her small body against Megaera's larger frame, and continued to drag her hooves.
When they finally reached their destination Rhoa took to the sky and she watched him, mesmerized by his wings until her stomach reminded her of how hungry she was. Even though she had already searched Megaera for milk and found none, she chanced it again. Her small muzzle bumped against Meg's stomach as she searched and came up empty again. A mixture of hunger, exhaustion, and disappointment made the filly sink down to the ground where she lay, her muzzle resting on the ground, and her injured wing draped haphazardly across her side. Her dark eyes closed and she began to drift to sleep as Megaera began to clean her dirty coat, but she jerked awake at the sound of Gaucho's voice.
The filly looked up, her eyes growing wide at the sight of Gaucho and his wings. While she found Rhoa's to be mezmerizing, Gaucho's struck a primal fear within the girl that had her clambering back to her hooves and hiding behind Megaera. "To me. Come." He says, but it was lost on the newborn. She peeked at the stallion from behind Meg, dark eyes fearful yet inquisitive. She looks from the stallion to Rhoa then to Meg and neither of them seem remotely fearful, so she stepped out and watched as the fire stallion made land appear for them to walk on. Before she could make sense of what was going on she was, again, being shepherded forward and was crossing the bridge that had appeared. It was a tight fit and she would whimper softly every time her broken wing bumped against Gaucho.
"."
MORDECAI
when the last light warms the rocks and the rattlesnakes unfold
mountain cats will come along to drag away your bones
I see him, like a beacon across the waters. He is my lighthouse, my safe-place, and my downfall. Father rushes towards me on molten wings but his concern is not for me. Those clever eyes of him in that primal brain dip downwards, taking in the scene below and immediately jumping into action.
Does he have no regard for me? Can he not see my wounds, my hurt, my exhaustion? Does it mean nothing? I want to think that it is because he knows that I am strong enough to make it - that he can see I have the strength to make it across the water ... the girl is weaker. Of course she deserves his attention more than I, but couldn't he have at least spared one word? Just my name? A thank you? I realize how horribly selfish and foolish these thoughts are, but I can't seem to shake them. I am too tired, and the comfort of placing all the fault on Father is simply too easy.
He descends, and as he does so the bridge appears. I have never used it, and had I more energy I would surely have stayed to watch. But I couldn't stay in the air much longer, and we needed our healers.
On embered wings I fly across the ocean to our island. I am not nearly as fast as Father, but I have been practicing, and at least my path is true. I nearly crash land on the bloody sands, my wings falling weakly to my sides. I am exhausted, but my task is not over yet.
"SIA" I scream. My voice still has a rather youthful and almost girlish quality as my shriek reaches the higher spectrum. "PLEASE." Where are they? Where should I look first?
Panic. Hysterics.
"ALIJA. SOMEONE. ANYONE PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. SIIIIAAA" Yelling is all I seem to be able to do. My legs have firmed rooted themselves into the sands and are shaking slightly. Were I smart I would continue to move so that my limbs did not continue to stiffen, but I can't seem to manage it.
@[Sikeax] and @[Alija] If one of you could post to try and heal Mordecai that would be awesome!!
GAUCHO I'd bring you further roses but it does you no good.
The two work in tandem, keeping the child close between them. Gaucho takes no notice of the fear that his apperance strikes in the small child - it is of no consequence. His concern was not with her mental view of him. Although by keeping her alive he was affording her the opportunity to continue to be afraid.
The dun hazarded a glance to Meg to assess the extend of her injuries. It appeared something had burned her, albeit in a very odd pattern. Her wounds were almost circular with smaller lines radiating out - almost as if something had fallen on her. Heated stones? Scalding water? Yet she was moving, and well enough. There would be time later for his attention to be placed upon her. Not for the first time Gaucho was silently thankful for his warriors. Others might have panicked more - might have cried out with silly solutions and demands. Meg kept her cool and followed his instructions, placing the girl's needs before her own but not in a way which was reckless.
He couldn't say the same for his son ...
Rhoa appeared shaky, fueled only be the adrenaline that came from experiencing trauma such as that which had surely befallen the trio. Gaucho assumed that his son had flown back to the island to seek help, and that was good. Still, Gaucho was sure that the boy was pushing himself far too hard. What good would it do if the healers had to expend their energy healing him as well? The boy had always tried too hard, never knowing when his duties and obligations had been met.
But that was a thought for another time.
Gaucho and Meg positioned the babe between them. The Sultan didn't think it was possible to fall off of the bridge, but he didn't want to be the first one to find out. The child between them mewed her displeasure, although Gaucho assumed it was more out of fear (for Meg clearly wasn't her mother nor he the father), rather than her broken appendage.
As they stepped on the bridge, Gaucho felt the sun's magic radiate around them. Flaming wings seemed to raise them up, allowing them to move forward. It was strange though, given that the wings couldn't be directed or moved the way their own wings were. This artificial flight was nothing to him, but likely to those without wings (or those who hadn't flown before) it would be quite the experience.
The flight took less time than he imagined - they moved at the step of a very fast flight, with the ocean gleaming brilliant blue beneath. As they neared the shores he could hear Rhoa shouting for their healers, just as he thought. As their hooves touched the sands and their flaming wings bled away, he turned to Meg and the girl allowing them both space now that the need to keep them so close had passed.
"What happened?" He asked, looking down at the girl. "How this happen?" Did Meg and Rhoa just ... find a child and take it with them? Is that how she had gotten her injuries?
Having someone or something that needed her protection was a powerful motivator for the bay warrior. Her back and right wing stung with every movement and there was still a knot of frustration that she had not been the one to fight the murderous mare, but she was able to push those concerns to the back of her mind as long as the helpless little girl was still in jeopardy. She kept a close watch of the babe as the trio sailed through the air, and head every whimper she made.
When the bridge finally deposited them upon the sands of the Throat, Gaucho moved away to give them space and Meg simply hovered over the girl, extending her wing again to shield her from the desert sun. Her head turned, eye searching for the source of Rhoa’s shouts, and knew they would have to wait here for a healer. They had pushed the girl too much already and the march to the oasis might do her in. She head Gauchos question, but continued in her movement to press a comforting nose against the tiny shoulder. “There’s a brave girl, safe and sound. Rest now, help will come soon.” She tied to sound bright and encouraging, though she praying the Throat could offer her all she needed.
She turned her attention to her sultan again with a nod of thanks for his assistance in the bridge and launched into the tale. “We found her in near the Heart, or I suppose Einarr led us there. I saw him and Rhoa leave the throat in haste so I followed. Her wing was already injured by the time I got there but it must have been her dam. The mare is deranged, was intent on killing the girl and the three of us as well when we tried to stop her. She sent the poisoned rain when Rhoa and I made to guide the girl to safety, we left Einarr in battle with her.” She paused, trying to puzzle through what the black warrior’s place in the story really was. The cocky bastard would have some explanations to make when he was done dispatching the rabid beast. “I don’t know how Einarr knew to go, I think she must be his… He seemed nearly as mad as the mare.”
As Megaera spoke, a curious face poked out from under her mane. The eaglet was a thoroughly resilient ort, and now that his bonded momfriend was calm once again, he was pleased to put the whole ordeal behind him, with one caveat… to make up for being jostled about so much the didn’t take much care with his taloned, yellow feet as he might usually have done. Through Meg’s speech, he extricated himself from his hiding place and made to clamber down to investigate what he assumed was his new sister. Dark feathers had begun to sprout amongst the white down, but flight was still a ways away, so he had to settle for climbing down a leg, pinching the mare all the way down. Automatically, Meg turned her head around the help him descend and then returned to Gaucho without missing a beat. Gwaihir hopped towards the filly when he reached the ground, with his own quiet stream of interested trills.
Megaera glanced down at the filly, trying to take a full assessment to her needs. Megaera’s confidence thrived on conflict, and now that the urgency was fading, she felt a thrum of discomfort. She was not equipped to care for her current charge, she was a boxer put on babysitting duty and it was beginning to make her nervous. “She needs a healer,” That much was obvious, and the easiest to find. “And I don’t think she’s eaten at all. Are there any mares in the throat with nursing babes still?” Their home had had its share of foals that birdsong, but the warrior Meg had no experience with the essential function of her gender and no idea if they would still be nursing or would have moved to vegetation by now.
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
Why was it always screaming? Constantly screaming. Did any of the other Sun Physicans in the past have an issue with everyone screaming their name whenever they were needed, or was she the one who dared to give a damn about her god-given rank and went to work with it? She wasn't one to ever complain, but please, stop with all the fucking screaming.
No time is wasted while her short strides gather and release themselves from beneath her body. Her legs throw themselves forth with every length and recontract, eating ground at a pace she's becoming used to. Someday, the screaming might not be enough to bring her out of hiding, but until then, maybe it was the best hope.
Even if the majority of the herd had wings, they seemed to lazy to use them.
Sweat moistens her coat by the time she reaches Rhoa. It cascades across her features and saturates her, clinging to her chest when it rises and falls in a hasten manner while she searches for her breath. Galloping was not her thing, but it wouldn't hurt to touch up on it at times like these.
She crosses over all of his features: stiffened legs, stressed appearance, burns, everything. Her services were needed for him, clearly, but did he have to yell in such a way for burns when he could of easily flown to her and asked for healing? "Rhoa, calm down. You'll hurt yourself more than you already have if you hold yourself like that. Are you alright?" Her voice is calm, an extreme difference to his. For a short time, she is oblivious to all that plays in the background, stepping around to observe his wings and the damage. "Oh, they're not that bad. I don't see a reason why you should be in such a panic over them." Her mind clings to his issue, locked onto Rhoa in an quiet attempt to calm his nerves. "Why are you so worked up?" Worry taints her voice, drowning her previous annoyance.
OOC: The way Rhoa was written and such made me think that he wasn't anywhere near Gaucho and Meg, so apologies if I messed up!
Requesting that I please be tagged. My next few days are busy but I'm willing to make a special exception to keep this thread going!
The girl did not care for the sensation of her dainty cloven hooves not touching solid earth, nor did she like the near constant bump of her broken wing against the much larger stallion, but being stuck between the two larger horses she had no choice but to move with them. Any attempt she'd made to stop previously had been thwarted and she'd been forced to move forward. She may have been merely a few hours old but she already knew that defying the bay mare was futile and she was too weak and too tired to fight a losing battle. Once safely accross the bridge and with her hooves firmly on the ground once more, the newborn pressed her body against Megaera's, ears falling sideaways as she listened to the mare's voice.
The young girl was beginning to grow even more tired and her eyelids began to droop heavily over her dark eyes. Her sides expanded as she sucked in a deep breath then she exhaled and lowered herself to the ground once more, taking advantage of the shade that Megaera's larger form offered. It was only a few moments later that movement made her open her half closed eyes and she spotted the fledgling making its way toward her. Small ears rotated forward as she heard the sounds he was making. Curious about the creature, the filly stretched her neck out and sniffed at him, snorted softly, then looked up Meg, but her focus seemed to be on the fire stallion.
Her attention was taken away from the bird by another feminine voice and when she looked her eyes fell upon a pale mare near Rhoa. She remained still for a moment, still enjoying the reprieve from the sun that Meg's shadow offered, but her growling stomach outweighed the shade and she forced herself to stand once more. Her thin legs carried her toward Sikeax, but it was instinct and an inborn desire to nurse and live that made her leave Megaera. The girl slipped past Rhoa and made it to Sikeax's side and immediately began to investigate and search for a source of nourishment.
"."
@[Rhoa]
MORDECAI
when the last light warms the rocks and the rattlesnakes unfold
mountain cats will come along to drag away your bones
02-27-2015, 04:14 AM (This post was last modified: 02-27-2015, 04:16 AM by Alija.)
The purple doe knew she had been slacking in her responsibility, but raising two boys was hard work! She always seemed to be tired and flustered. The girl had been resting by the oasis left leg cocked, lip drooping she snoozed. A sudden call ripped away the black veil of sleep. Gold feathered legs struck out at the yellow sand before her brain was even fully awake. The voice had been panicked a foal or mare maybe. Fear filled her own chest as she raced for the caller. What had happened now, was there another giant bird attack? Pink nostrils flared and the whites of her steel blue orbs showed brilliantly as her draft built body flew oddly fast through the desert home. Her body may have it's limits on speed, but adrenaline was a crazy thing!
Her heart was pounding as her leader, his son, Meg, Sikeax, and a very tiny foal came into view. Sweat poured in rivers off her amethyst hide as she assess the situation. Rhoa was in Sikeax's perfectly capable hands, which meant she would tend to the others needs. Rushing passed them, slower now but still at a speeding trot, she halted before Gaucho. Dipping her head briefly she looked at them all slowly. Gaucho, then Meg, and finally the tiny black and white foal. Even though the healer was panting heavily, her voice was soft and warm, "Come dear, you must eat." She smiled softly down at the girl then back at Megera, "I'm sure she is hungry."
As steely eyes turned to look over the filly, causing her brows to snap together. Carefully she stepped closer her head bowed a soft smile upon her face. Something was wrong, the filly was holding her wing oddly. "Easy now babe, my flames will not hurt you, but heal your wing." Taking a deep breath she focused on her heat, on the sun, on fire. Slowly flames licked out and away towards the girl trying to wrap her in a warm embrace. If she was still the flames would slowly slide over her fragile body healing and mending.
After a few moments she gasped feeling completely drained of all energy, but joyous. She had done her job as a healer, now she needed to be a mother to this poor babe. "She should be better now." Gentle lips turned up as her head sagged before carefully reaching out towards the black and silver girl. Trying to heard a scared foal would not be an easy task, but she needed to eat. Hoping the baby was now nursing, Alija reached into one of her shoulder bags; carefully pulling out a few Borage leaves. Chewing slowly the mare had to force the food down. Sweat was already drying into a hard crust over her tender hide, but she did not care. If she could help save this young poor life; she would gladly be exhausted.
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"Lyrics" 'Ponderings'
Words: 488
OOC: Sorry it took so long! <3
Please tag Alija! All magic and physical force is acceptable to any degree besides killing her.
03-02-2015, 09:44 PM (This post was last modified: 03-09-2015, 07:58 PM by Rhoa.)
Rhoa
Like ships in the night
Why isn't she faster?! I want to scream at Sikeax to hurry, to curse her for not having wings or teleportation magic, but it wouldn't be sincere. Of course she's doing the best she can. I'm just displacing my own feelings and throwing them onto her. I should be the one doing better.
As she appraises my condition, I shake my head wearily. "Not ... me.." I pant, forcing out the laboured breaths so that I might speak. I raise one of my half-burning wings and point in the direction that I've come - near where our gates are currently being built. I can barely muster the energy to look that way, but somehow I do. I can see Father and Meg and the child huddled together on the sand. Surely Sia must see them too?
"A ... baby ... hurt . Her wing ... Einarr .." The pounding of my blood in my ears is making it hard to see straight - to think straight. I can only hope Sia understands. I am not the one who needs help - they do! At least, they need it more than I do right now.
I would never forgive myself if anything happened to the girl, simply because our healer was taking care of me. Had I truly grown that out of shape? Was I really so ill-equipped to help even the helpless? A cramp that run up the length of my leg told me that apparently I was. Still, I fought against the feeling. I knew what it was like to nearly die when you were born - to see the world darken and fade away before you could even find the words to say goodbye. I wouldn't let the same happen to Mordecai.
"...with Father and Meg. Please. Help her .."
I don't know what happens though. The world grows dark around me. I feel the painful twist of my wings - have I fallen? I think I might have, because I can feel where Histe's acid rain burned my wing suddenly being irritated by the bloody sands that I was just standing on. I think I've fainted, or maybe I'm still fainting? Everything is slow, and dark, and cold.
GAUCHO I'd bring you further roses but it does you no good.
The dun listened as Meg spoke with an impartial curiosity. Had any other name been mention, Gaucho might have immediately returned to the skies headed towards the heart. If a fight was occurring, there was none more qualified to stand in the ring than He. However, he knew Einarr. At least, the fumblings of conversation that had occurred between the two had confirmed what Gaucho had immediately suspected; The two were from the same general area. Both had grown up with the same teachings, the same mentality. Einarr was not pretender wearing the skin of a warrior. He would be able to hold his own.
That the child was his however did rather surprise the Sultan. However he made no comment.
As Meg's eagle dipped down towards the child, Vorsa screeched a jealous protest. She too dropped from her bonded's side, although the small phoenix tottered rather unsteadily upon the sands. Her body was a brilliant red which appeared to burst into flames every now and then - totally out of her control. One day Gaucho told her, she would be able to control her abilities. For now however, she was a highly combustible creature, albeit a curious one. The phoenix trilled to the eagle, flapping her wings in greeting as she eyed the child. Offering a small coo, the phoenix tilted her head back and forth, as if unsure of the child's intentions.
Gaucho's attention was averted away by the two birds by the arrival of Alija. Sikeax he could see was tending to his son. Now that Gaucho knew an altercation as well as acid rain had been involved, he was not surprised that his son required aid. Pride flushed through his system as he mentally applauded his progeny for assisting in such a dangerous task.
"Alija not have much milk left - " He responded, looking to Meg now. Although Alija's arrival answered one of Meg's question, it did not fully provide a satisfactory answer. Although Alija was still nursing she likely would not be for much longer, and Gaucho did not know of any other mares in the Throat currently with foal.
Gaucho was entirely oblivious to the way Mordecai's eyes lingered on his flames. All of his children (or at least the three he knew of) had no problem with fire. Two of them had been born with the ability infact, and so it never occurred to him to try and disguise what could appear threatening.
As much innocence of youth was in the young eagle’s curiosity, there was a skeptical air in his examination of the child. Anything that would take this much of his Meg’s attention was cause for alarm. Intent on investigating the tiny interloper, Gwaihir had not seen Vorsa until she joined him on the ground. And here was the perfect distraction from said miniature interloper. If Megaera had indeed not been training her focus on all that silly horse-business, she would have felt the waves of excitement coming off of him. Bird! he thought, wildly enthusiastic on meeting one of his own and mirrored Vorsa’s trilling, flappy greeting. Wrong color! Birds brown. he affirmed, looking back up at his bonded. Meg brown. Meg good. Brown good. but even if the pretty red color confused him, there was a shift in his behavior. He calmed, and became more subdued in the pheonix’s shadow, Red bird, BIG bird! Though in fact she was not much larger than he, his infantile mind still reached for a description of ‘more’ when making the comparison to himself.
Meg kept a peripheral tab on Gwaihir while she spoke to Gaucho. The connection was young, and Meg was still coming to understand the intricacies of the channel of thoughts and emotions, of life, that flowed between. At his hatching, she’d been nervous at the prospect of raising a chick, but he seemed just fine with asserting himself. If he wanted something, she knew it, and had indeed taken a satisfied pride in providing it.
The noisy exchange of the birds that had Meg looking down again. She nearly jumped in panic when the filly’s absence from her side was registered and immediately swung her head around, looking in all directions. Finally she spied the little black thing, approaching Rhoa and the Sun Physician. The mares feet sped into action, carrying her closer to her little charge (because until Einarr returned, the filly was not leaving her sight) but was stopped by and indignant screech from Gwaihir. Stooping she collected him up to settle on her withers again and looked immediately back to girl.
Alija was there, and Meg could have sighed with relief, She watched carefully as the purple healer’s flames reached out to embrace the little one, ready to step in when… when what? All of the sudden Meg realized that her part in the filly’s rescue might well be over now and that though gave her an odd, green tinted, twinge, that she neither recognized nor understood. Watch over. Protect. That’s what warriors did. That’s what she’d do.
”Thank you, Alija.” She nodded to the kind purple mare. Gaucho’s statement brought the long term problem to the forefront, and she turned to him again, the solemn soldier. “If Einarr does not return soon, I will go and find another.” It was a statement, not an offer. “If the healers can watch out for her until I return, I’ll find someone.”
FAC FORTIA ET PATERE
be brave and endure
:: permission given for use of magic and force :: please tag Megaera in all posts ::
03-05-2015, 02:41 AM (This post was last modified: 03-05-2015, 02:42 AM by Sikeax.)
Find a way to believe in fate
Rhoa becomes the true task set at hand, looking over his wounds and trying to figure out exactly how one could receive such things. Burns don't splatter, unless the colt had found a way to throw boiling water upon himself. Even then, the results wouldn't be like this.
Everything about him seems to worsening by the second. "Rhoa.... Calm down. Relax. Please. It'll help." His complaints go to waste, moving in to stitch him to health when something brushes against her flank.
A loud snort bursts from her in surprise, craning her about only to meet a child searching for a breast to nurse from. The touch felt foreign, and having no milk to offer, the child's efforts were useless. "No, no. I'm sorry, but there's nothing there that could be of any help for you." Their wing is mangled and her gut wrenches into a ball at the memory of Amara. Where Pegasus able to fly at such a young age?
Alija saves her, coming to the aid of the child and wisks her away, allowing a breast that was more kind to give the foal life. Pain burrows into her chest at the sight whenever her eyes cross over it. Help her.
Everything kicks back into motion at that moment. Alija is a capable healer, and wounds dotted others with them. Her attention doesn't go back to him fast enough, because when she finally meets his body with her eyes, he's falling, tumbling to the burned sand in a heap of pain, stress, and wounds. "Rhoa? Rhoa! Rhoa!" It feels different to yell at someone who stands lays before you, fading in and out. She needs reassurance that he's there and still alive, but how stupid would she look before a fellow healer and her leader if she didn't work to save him. The flame pools in her throat and warms her mouth and lips when it touches his body, possible corpse, grazing over the wounds.
"No, no. I'm sorry, but there's nothing there that could be of any help for you."
The newborn meweled in protest at, once again, being denied a meal by a mare that did not have the ability to feed her. It was her hunger and instinct that drove her to search out food from every mare that she came across. So far she'd had no luck and at the rate she was going she would starve before she got a full belly. Shortly after being told no another mare swept onto the scene, making the young girl stare because of her strange coloring. She moved as quickly as she could, stumbling and nearly falling as the purple mare swept her away from Rhoa and Sikeax. Immediately, she went to Meg and pressed herself against the bay mare's side, even as the strange purple mare told her to come and eat. Was her milk the same color? Would she turn that weird color if she drank it? Rather than take the chance and find out, the filly turned and ducked under Meg, choosing to hide rather than drink.
Her hiding place beneath Meg, however, did not serve its purpose. She was still visible and Alija was coming closer to her, causing the newborn's ears to fall back against her head. The purple mare spoke, but her words meant little to the girl, who had noticed that the mare was looking at her hurt wing. Her heart pounded in her tiny chest and she bit at Alija then quickly left her hiding place under Megaera. It didn't matter how far away from Alija that she moved, the mare's flames still ingulfed her tiny, mangled wing. Upon seeing it fear gripped the girl and she squealed and scrambled back toward Megaera, her wing flapping as she tried to put out the flames.
Wait. It was moving?
The girl froze in place, her eyes going to her wing that wasn't mangled anymore, nor was it causing her any pain. She blinked and flexed the tiny appendage, marveling at how it worked. Maybe the weird looking mare wasn't so bad. The girl snorted and looked back to Alija and tentatively stepped forward. If the mare fixed her wing then maybe her milk wouldn't be so bad. Her stomach growled and the foal finally shuffled to Alija's side and began to nurse.
"."
@[Alija]
MORDECAI
when the last light warms the rocks and the rattlesnakes unfold
mountain cats will come along to drag away your bones
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[O] Born in the arms of imaginary friends
![[Image: 53a4c3e87d453]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/53a4c3e87d453)
