"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.
It was autumn again, and Nasreen remembered it as if it had just been yesterday when she’d stumbled into Helovia. She’d been a girl then, lost and utterly alone, wandering the woods with salty tears streaming from bloodshot silvery eyes. Then, Amaya’s corpse had been fresh and her heart had been raw, gouged and seared by fear and loss. Much had changed since that fateful day: Kahlua had found her, brought her home to the Edge, and become her friend. A brother whom she feared she would never again see was alive. She’d learned of the Helovian gods, and by their favor, had even become a sort of priestess for her herd. Gradually, the maiden had started to become something, to be someone beyond the wisp of a girl she’d left behind.
Yet history has a funny way of repeating itself. For here she was again, and though Amara’s bones must now be bleached and dry on the forest floor two years later, Nasreen was sobbing as if her heart would break.
• • • • •
It had all started with the whispers—rumors of murder that had reached her ears on one of her return voyages to the Edge after another ill-fated search for Th’orqui. Worried, she’d consulted with the moon goddess, but she’d been too distracted to see the signs until Quilyan went missing. Angry though they’d been at each other, she couldn’t believe he would stay away that long—even that prim little nurse of his hadn’t seen him in seasons. He had to be dead or home, and she needed to know. She hadn’t intended to slip away quietly in the night, leaving her herd behind her as she skimmed over the treetops in her frantic search, but that’s what she had done. The thought of her brother had consumed her, fueling her search of Helovia—and when she couldn’t find him there, of the world beyond. For the memory of home still haunted her, and she clung to the hope that somehow, he had done what she could not: find their kingdom.
But in fact, it was she who did just that. One hazy morning in late summer, she had touched down in a clearing in a faraway wood. It was a grim place, all grey despite the fiery sun, a collection of gnarled trees whose trunks were charred and withered. Soot and ashes rose in a fine, filmy powder with each step she took, dirtying long white legs and clogging her lungs. A strange silence hung over the place; no birds called from on high, and not even a fly buzzed in the heavy air. She would never have recognized it if not for the Great Tree. Its shape was one she would have known anywhere, her favorite tree from the godswood back home: big, firm, safe, stretching to the sky with branches that had always reminded her of upraised wings. She had spent her early days tripping and tumbling over its roots with her twin, later visiting to pray to the god who watched over it. To her, the Great Tree had been the heart of the godswood.
As the familiar shape had materialized out of the smoky air, Nasreen had let loose a choked cry, stumbling forward. She wasn’t dreaming, for there in the flaking bark were all of the signs: ancient carvings, scrolling swirls, sacred inscriptions…all unmistakably Th’orquian. Then, slowly, as if in some horrible nightmare, the remains of the godswood had emerged around her—here, a crumbling leaf, there a burned and mangled tree. The church of her ancestors had been desecrated.
She could not say how long she drifted about the ruins of the godswood, dry sobs mixing with heaving coughs from the ash. She had dreamed of finding home for nearly all of her life, and now she was here…but it was far from the joyous occasion she had always envisioned. The girl felt as if she was walking in a dream, yet now her eyes had been opened and she couldn’t wake up. The loss wrapped around her heart and slipped its fingers around her throat, slowly strangling her until she could take it no more. It was as a sooty ghost that she fled, leaving behind her childhood home once and for all, the only memories stored in a pod of seeds that she held tightly in her trembling lips.
Nasreen had worried that she would not find Helovia again, and the possibility of a double loss had seared her heart like a hot iron: to be cast off and homeless in the aftermath of her discovery was the only thing worse that she could imagine. Much to her relief, she had found her way back. Immediately, she set a course for the Edge, spirits growing a little lighter with every step…but she should not have celebrated so soon. The maiden had missed much in her absence: the murder of a demigod, the revelation that her own patron deity was responsible, the flooding of the land, and perhaps most importantly, her herd’s invasion of the Hidden Falls. When she arrived at the Edge, she’d found it empty, desolate. Unable to believe, she’d paced the wall, swooped through the skies, and called out until she was hoarse, but no one came. Double loss, indeed.
• • • • •
So here the mare stood, weeping amongst the willows with her world in broken pieces around her. Princess no more, priestess no more…just Nasreen.
@[Bucephalus]
"speech"
Please do not tag Nasreen except for in opening posts and in spars!
Nasreen had flickered across the black's thoughts in passing as her absence grew noticeable, long. True their meetings had been few, and the last couple ones had been ended on rather taut notices, he couldn't help but enjoy her company. She did not stir his darkness as Morrigan did, did not make him surrender entirely to coltish fun and play as Ampere. Nah, with her it was just talk with the seemingly reoccurring spat.
Yet as time drifted on she had faded in his memory, replaced by the ragged weariness and strain upon his mind. This month had not been as bad, as hectic as the previous, but the work of crafting, making time to spend with his foals(which he hadn't done in some time), and generally being too fearful to sleep had the black pacing the sands, fleeing the Throat when he could to let loose the monster without a chance of hurting those he cared about.
His intention, now, had been to do that. To give Him his rein and wear him down enough for the black to regain control. The Grove had become a favorite spot; it was secluded, quiet and peaceful. Wearily he touched down on the soft, springy grass, his head low and feathers drooped. He was bone-tired yet feared sleep 'lest he wake up someone else, and it was with a robot-like presence he moved towards the lake, dropping his head to drink his fill. Azeeza glided from tree to tree, watching her beloved with worry and concern, the warring personalities within him confusing the youthful chick.
It was then he heard the crying.
It was then he saw her.
Golden eyes blinked, once, twice, making sure he wasn't hallucinating(he had done that a few days prior, Azeeza clouted him over the head until he surrendered to a short nap) before he lifted his head. Nasreen stood across the pond, shielded by willow branches that blew in the wind, and he could barely hear her weeping from as far as he stood. For a moment he stood still, awkward, unsure whether to approach or not, unsure if he would be welcomed.
Fuck it, she was crying.
Weary wings lifted, carrying the black in a short glide across the pond where he landed a little ways beside her. His appearance was far different than the last they had met; he was skinnier(something not healthy for his build), there was tiredness evident in every line of his face, and his wings, usually so well groomed as to shine, were scraggly and unkempt. Yet he could hardly care less about his appearance, no, his attention was focused upon Nasreen and her tears.
"Why do you cry, Nasreen?" He asked quietly, slowly walking forward, stretching out his muzzle towards her, pressing it to her soft shoulder. "Has someone hurt you?" The thought sent raw anger lancing through him, through his and Azeeza's bond, and the falconet screeched her anger at the possibility. Tired or not, if the devil himself hurt someone so serene, Bucephalus would storm the gates of hell and drag the devil out kicking and screaming to beg for forgiveness at the hooves of an angel.
No one so sweet should ever be given reason to cry.
Word Count: 541 Tags: @[Nasreen]
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She would have thought that, with the exception of stumbling across Quilyan’s dead body, it couldn’t have gotten any worse. Yet when she hears the familiar voice ring out over the still waters of the grove, Nasreen realizes that it can, in fact, be so. He is walking toward her, that Bucephalus that she’d once been so enamored with. The one who told her to find home herself.
His words are as gentle as his touch on her shoulder, but she tenses and jerks away. In the face of her helplessness, grief turns to anger, and she snaps at the air between them, teeth clicking in a warning that holds much more danger for her than it does for him. If the girl knew what he could do to her, what he has done in the past, perhaps she would not be so rash. But all she knows is that he has betrayed her, and for reasons that even she cannot fully comprehend, he has left a scar over her heart. A wiser, more introspective mare might have realized it was because that she had once dared to trust him, placed him on a pedestal and worshipped him with shy admiration before he had hooked her with hope and cut the line, but Nasreen’s feelings for the stag had been so secret that they had hardly been known to even herself. “Has someone hurt me?” she repeats in a near scream, voice rising to a frenzied pitch that startles the birds from the nearby trees. A pair of lovebirds takes of in an indignant flurry of wings.
Meanwhile, her own wings flare, and she faces the dark stallion head-on, with the desperation of one who has nothing left to lose. “You.” The accusation is unexpectedly flat after her outburst, cold and steady. “Did you know the whole time?” Here, her voice begins to waver with suppressed emotion. “Did you know when you told me you’d heard of Th’orqui? When you told me to find a way back myself?” With every question, her pitch is rising again, and the tears come streaming harder, but she refuses to look away. “Did you know that it was gone??”
“I did what you said,” she tells him. “And there was nothing for me there.”
@[Bucephalus]
"speech"
Please do not tag Nasreen except for in opening posts and in spars!
He jerks away just as her teeth snap at the air between them in a vicious gesture he didn't think the mare possible of. Once more he is speechless, struck dumb by the anger, by the near-scream of her voice, her words mocking his own.
Azeeza would not tolerate it.
With a hoarse cry the falconet took wing and shot for the mare's face, talons flared, and Buce jerked his head up, crying out a wordless yell with lungs and thoughts for her to STOP. The child jerks, then pulls out of the dive before she can touch Nasreen, and circled in the air above, hissing in anger. Buce dropped his head, looking at Nasreen just as her words hit the air, one after another.
He takes a step back, ears pinning flat against his tangled mane as she accuses him of knowing...what? He had told her to find it herself because his aid would lead to trouble... he didn't actually think she'd off and actually find her lost home! The feathers between his wings bristled, fluffing as his nostrils flared, lips twitching as he fought to keep from snapping at the mare as she did to him.
"If I knew your home was gone I would have told you. Just as if I knew you were going to accuse me of things I have no control over I would not have spared the energy to come over and see what was wrong with you." He spat, head lowering. "Though now I see perfectly what was wrong." She was spoiled. Did she think she was the only one in that kind of situation?! Sehrau may not be gone, but for the black it might as well be; returning home would be his death.
"Remind me to never give a shit about anyone." He muttered to Azeeza as she landed on his back, the falcon glaring angrily at Nasreen. "You." He swung his attention back at her, eyes narrowed. "You think you're the only one to have no home to return to?" He took a step forward, wings flaring out. "You are spoiled, naive if that is truly what you think, though I must wonder..."
He raised his head then, and venom dripped from his words, every single one an attempt to hurt her. That's right, He was out to play. "If you are so in love with the Edge, why did you bother trying to chase down some place you hardly even remember? Makes me wonder if the Edge values your loyalty anymore." Azeeza's anger turned to worry, and she looked to her bonded now, brows furrowed. She seemed to recognize the change, and didn't like it one bit.
But she was helpless against the onslaught of dark delight and contempt as the Morningstar gazed down at the mare, nothing in his gaze but disgust. Perhaps Altan valued her, cared for her.... this one did not.
And he would love to see her burn.
@[Nasreen]
OH HELLO MR EVILBASTARD HI HOW ARE YOU NASREEN I AM SO SORRY
Word Count: 000 Tags: 000
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04-20-2015, 01:20 AM (This post was last modified: 04-21-2015, 09:58 PM by Nasreen.)
NASREEN
The dark stallion darts away, easily avoiding her clacking teeth, but even more sudden is the feathered blur that plummets from the sky with an outraged cry, sharp talons reaching for the girl’s eyes. With a shriek, she ducks, skittering sideways and hiding her head beneath copper wings, embarrassingly forced from her moment of rebellion into a posture of submission by none other than a bird she dwarfs. Feeling the sting of this insult, she draws herself up again (at a safer distance), ready to scream at him anew, when she is met with the onslaught of his words.
They cut into her, his anger matching her own as he denies her accusations, ears lying flat against his skull. Perhaps she should have expected it from him, this, this monster(!), the only one who has ever dared to treat her in such a manner. No one, no one has ever spoken to her in such a way, even Quilyan in the worst of their arguments had tried to placate her with soothing words as she unleashed the torrent of her rage upon him. But Bucephalus spares no feeling, flinging every word back in her face with an added venom that catches her off-guard, with accusations of his own that take her breath away. Spoiled? Naïve? Pink nostrils flare in self-righteous indignation. Did he know who she was?
And that was when the realization hit home, came crashing down around her again, that she was, in fact, nobody. Whatever she had been, whatever she had once had, it was all gone now. Who had she been fooling all these years, clinging to the hope of home and resting confidently in the power of her bloodline, waiting for some royal title to come save her and make everything right again? In the face of her own delusion, Nasreen let out a stifled gasp, knees buckling and eyes clouded with grief. But the attack hadn’t concluded yet. With an icy stare, the brute regarded her and delivered the death blow, questioning her loyalty to the Edge.
His final accusation pierced her heart like an arrow, cutting her to the quick. Trembling legs stumbled, bracing wide for support as her tearstained head hung low, muzzle quivering as she panted in long, ragged breaths. He was right, of course. What she had always thought of as hope and love had led her astray from nothing, taken her from those who would have been her surrogate family if only she had embraced reality and let them in. But it was too late, and they were gone now, vanished during the long season of her absence. And It. Was. Her. Fault.
Quaking knees finally gave way, and the spent mare collapsed on the ground before her tormentor, drawing into herself, cradling her white-splashed sides with dusty wings. Now that the beast was silent, she expected him to leave her to her misery. He had won, after all. Yet some perverse part of her wished that he wouldn’t, for as horrible as he was, Nasreen couldn’t bear the thought of being alone in this moment. She would rather suffer his abuse than float adrift in the world, like a leaf on a current with nowhere to go.
04-23-2015, 01:25 AM (This post was last modified: 04-23-2015, 01:25 AM by Bucephalus.)
Sometimes the world doesn't need another hero, sometimes what it needs is a monster.
He watches as she recoils.
He watches as the anger gives way to shock, then grief.
He watches as her legs fold and she collapses.
He watches as she breaks.
Oddly... it brings no satisfaction. This confused him, and his golden eyes narrowed as he stared down at Nasreen, lips curled in a disgusted sneer that was far too cruel for his refined face. Why did her crying not give the oh-so usual sense of satisfaction at hurting his alter ego? He stared down at her, stupefied, confused and growing angrier by the second. But not at her, no, rather at himself. At the idiot Altan, at his own inability to take pleasure from the tears of one the boy cared for.
His lips pressed tight together, the Morningstar rolled his weight from one side to the other, silent, watching her on the ground. A twitch and a shudder ran across his face, hindquarters side-stepping and ears flicking back. A snort tears from the black, and he whirls, pacing, stalking in the grass, the muscles along his rump and shoulders quivering every now and then, a sign to the battle within.
He looses, and Bucephalus stops his pacing, head low and breathing ragged. How much more of this could he take? Ears prick, and slowly the black lifted his head, looking back at Nasreen, ears pinning back once more. He needed to fix this...he was tired of parting with friends on anger-fueled terms. So slowly he approached, then folded his legs and sank down beside her, but didn't touch her.
He doubted his touch would be welcomed.
"I am sorry... I was tired, and there was no need to take it out on you." Truth, but not the entirety of it. Wryly the Morningstar found it amusing at how good he had become at telling pieces of the truth without lying or revealing the entire truth. "The World's Edge has invaded the Hidden Falls... perhaps your family is there?" He suggested, golden eyes watching her with a weary sadness.
The silence is almost more deafening than his anger had been. She dares not look up, but she can feel him watching her. Head tucked to her chest, she lies prone, submissive. And then his hoofbeats recede.
For a moment, she doesn’t know what to feel—relief? Grief? What had she really expected, that anyone would stick around after that little exchange? But then the ground thrums softly with the beat of nearby pacing. A furtive glance upwards reveals that Bucephalus is still near. Confusion clouds her vision: why does he neither gloat nor leave her to cry? What purpose could he have here?
And then, a prickle of fear rakes hot pins down her back. He…he wouldn’t hurt her, would he? Though Nasreen could not know the sheer brutality her companion was capable of, she remembered that she was wary of unfamiliar males for a reason, some subconscious knowledge that there were creatures in this world who could and would do her harm. A fragmented scene flashes in her mind, of flying hooves and bloody feathers drifting lazily down…a horrifically abbreviated scream…hadn’t that voice once sung her lullabies? Someone saying run, run!, Amaya’s face floating ghostlike to the surface of her memor—no. No, must’ve just been a nightmare. Just as suddenly as it had opened, the box lid is slammed shut and the girl turns her back on the past she’d forgotten.
The pacing ceases, and she can feel the electric hum in the air as the beast draws nearer. Unbidden, her heart begins to quicken its tattoo, but the girl forces herself to remain calm. Apathy, when combined with a lack of energy, makes a wonderful sedative. Grey eyes downcast, she watches two pairs of hooves come to a halt before her. She doesn’t even blink.
“I’m sorry.” The apology comes as he sinks down beside her, settling in the moist dirt. Pupils dilate in surprise, but she does not dare to look directly at him. “I was tired, and there was no need to take it out on you.” But there had been, and she knew it. So she lay quietly, waiting for the inevitable “but.” Yet none came. "The World's Edge has invaded the Hidden Falls... perhaps your family is there?"
That got her attention. Head moves upwards, startled, and eyes grow wide in shock. “Invaded?” she asks, not understanding what he could mean. She knew little of herd politics, but Kahlua had always been one for peace. What could have happened to make her change her mind? Or perhaps…oh, heaven forbid: what if something had happened to Kah? A thousand questions swarm through her mind like alarmed bees, but only one makes it through lips that have already been parted by fear and disbelief: “…But why?” How could this have happened?
Sometimes the world doesn't need another hero, sometimes what it needs is a monster.
She does not recoil away from him, something that the black is far more grateful for than he should be. Instead, her words cause her to raise her head, to look at him with shock and...horror? He wasn't quite sure. Her disbelief is plain enough for him to pick up, however, and his head turned away from her, gold eyes flickering over the lake. Why did he have to be the harbinger of bad tidings? The irony of it all did not escape him.
Azeeza swooped down to land between his shoulders, chest fluffed out as she watched Nasreen warily, golden-orange brows drawn down over her large eyes. Bucephalus soothed her riled temper with murmured words, nosing her wing gently, and slowly the falconet relaxed. It was then he looked back to Nasreen, frowning lightly, hesitating before he spoke. "Do you know what the Moon Goddess has done?" He asked slowly, watching her face before he looked away, jaw clenched.
"The fair Lady of the Moon possessed Gaucho in order to commit the murders. It lead to the earth demigod's death, and the Moon Goddess's banishment from the heavens. She's confined to the Edge now, I believe." He rubbed his muzzle against his leg, needing to move 'ere he succumb to angered confusion once more. The logic behind the Goddess's actions just felt... redundant. Contradictory.
"The Edge leaders no longer wished to live under her reign... so they allied with the Basin and invaded the Falls." He looked to her, ears pinning back. "Your family should be in the Falls." He fell quiet then, unsure of what to say to fill the silence. Slowly he stretched out a wing, just the lightest touch of his wing across her back. It was all he knew how to offer in terms of comfort.
No. It cannot be. But it doesn’t stop the girl’s heart from breaking all over again as Bucephalus explains what the Lady Moon has orchestrated. The murders, the deaths…it had all been her doing? The Moon had been the one who had told her to be vigilant, to keep watch…it couldn’t be true! But the heaviness in his voice was not the sound of a liar, and she had seen with her own eyes the abandonment of the Edge. So again, the girl wept bitterly, even as she thought she’d had no more tears to cry.
“Your family should be in the Falls,” he finally tells her. She glances tearfully up at him, but he has looked away. Only his falcon watches her through beady dark eyes, managing to look disapproving even in her more placid state. Self-conscious, she ducks her head. Of course he does not pity her—he’d made it plain how selfish he thought she was. And that is why, when she feels the lightest of touches upon her back, she twitches, surprised. Is he…comforting her? She is tense only for a moment before relaxing under his touch. It may have startled her, but she clings to it like a bird who is plummeting from the sky, desperate that the shred of peace he has offered will placate her. For she has nowhere to turn.
“My family?” she asks, grey eyes cast downwards. “My brother might be de—“ Here, she chokes on the words, still too terrible to say aloud. “My brother…I haven’t seen him in months. And the others? I…I don’t think they want me back. Not after…after what I’ve done.” Because abandoning them had been bad enough, but returning to find that the goddess she’d been tasked with serving had plunged the land into darkness during her absence? Somehow, she couldn’t help but feel that in some way, it had been her fault. Maybe she could have pleaded with the goddess, served her better, or at least she could have warned the herd if she’d seen it coming. But she’d been gone, and more than one world had fallen apart in her wake. What had she done?
He hated what his words did, breaking the painted mare even more. How fractured was her heart by now? She twitches at his touch, and Bucephalus pulls away just a bit, golden eyes dark with worry before she actually relaxes. It surprises him, and he hesitates just a bit more before fully draping his wing over her body, shifting closer to press his side against her. He remained quiet, listening as she voices her fears, her doubts.
"You have done nothing but allow yourself to pursue your homeland, your dream." He said sharply, vehemently, golden eyes focusing upon her tear-streaked face. "If they do not want you because of that, then they do not deserve you, Nasreen." He spoke firmly, and gently lifted his wing, using the sleek feathers at the outer arch to wipe her cheek. "I have...an idea." He said softly, hesitating.
Azeeza cocked her head, having picked up on her bondmate's thoughts, the concept puzzling the young falcon. "I'll be going away for a while... I have some things I need to do that will carry me away from Helovia." He shrugged lightly, golden eyes focused upon her. "If you truly do not think that the Edge will take you back... you are always welcomed in the Throat." He offered, looking... almost shy. What if his offer didn't help? What if she hated the desert or didn't like the Sun God or hell, what if she found the thought of living with him horrible? She did just see, after all, by far the darkest facet of his fractured personality.
Azeeza rolled her eyes at Buce's mental fretting, letting out an irritated chirp to remind him of their schedule. "You don't have to decide now... try going to the Edge, try and see and make sure you don't feel welcomed." He glanced away, jaw working for a moment longer as he hesitated again(Azeeza was about ready to fly away at this point). "If you don't... meet me at the Heart Caves? I'll be back before the season ends..."
The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.
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