"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.
An overwhelming sense of failure possessed the posture of the dragonmare, as she walked up the narrow, volcanic path of the Veins, watching with bland indifference as the blue molten rock trickled down the mountainside. The heat warmed her scales, the glow of the veins cast a purple hue across her iridescent scales. And yet, the girl's golden pools could not grasp the beauty and magnificence laid out before her - rather, she saw only the destruction the fire and flames wrought on the lands they touched, charring and scarring everything in its wake.
But Amaris didn't hate fire, no, she lived it, and had grown to love and respect it after living in the Sun's lands. But what it represented, the sense of betrayal she felt, both for the Moon and now against her own herd… the mare wasn't sure which hurt the most. The worst part was, it was entirely self-inflicted. She was the one who had chosen to join the Throat, to be with her cousin, instead of return to the Edge, to be with the family that she was bound to by strings not made out of blood but rather some more undefinable. She was then the one who then left the Throat, to try for the leadership of the now-abandoned Edge, competing in a test that had shattered her confidence. She was the one who had failed (miserably) the test that had followed, made a fool of herself in front of her leader, her Sultana, the one who had trusted her in his herd, his family.
Amaris had not lingered long after the decision was given, too afraid to question Gaucho too closely about it - what if he decided to turn her out for good? The dragongirl needed time to think and process. She had farewelled her mother's dragon with a soft, sad song, knowing that her mother would be privy to her depression and knowing there was nothing she could do about it.
She was helpless, as well as a bit hopeless.
So she thought she would attend to the patrol she was assigned this season, albeit with less grace and fervour as the last time she had gone on patrol, she would still fulfil the duties of her home, for so long as she was allowed to call it that.
@[Bucephalus] & @[Morrigan]
Patrol thread!
I think you guys are on absent? So this is an open thread anyway C:
05-12-2015, 03:02 PM (This post was last modified: 05-12-2015, 03:03 PM by Volterra.)
hope it's okay to throw him here? :D @[Amaris]
VOLTERRA
you will remember me for centuries
Mother...gone.
Taken, stolen, whisked away in the night. The titanic colt had never felt so powerless as when Mother was taken, and even now, weeks later, the memory makes him want to scream his lament to the heavens. Since she was taken, Volterra has been lost, a dog without a master. She taught him everything he knows; she forced him into training far more intense than others his age, urging his body to grow and thicken at an increased rate. She burnt hate into the young mind, twisted and moulded him, and he loves her for it.
Now she's gone.
All he has left is his precious sister, who he would defend with his life. They are almost weaned, him and his twin, so they don't miss their dam for sustenance...but for support and training, she is sorely missed. On the beastling's shoulders, the red dragon chirps his lament, because he, too, misses the venomous mare. He sends Volterra images of burning lands and ravaged trees, of spires of rock erupting beneath Confutatis' captor, but although Volterra is impulsive and arrogant, he knows he would be no match for the Throat soldiers. Trying to take Mother back by force would be a deathwish for both boy and dragon. Vérzés has grown greatly in the past few weeks, a thick hulking creature of blood and muscle who lacks any of the svelte agility of his sire's own bonded, but he cannot yet breathe fire (or frost, as he is destined to do) and would not be able to help his bonded against fully-grown adults.
So they wander, aimless, across blue-tinted rock and hewn stone that emenates power, until they see a familiar figure on the horizon. To Volterra she is familiar at least - not to Vérzés, who the colt hadn't even met then. He can't help the small smile that darts across his rugged features as he remembers their meeting, remembers his younger self bombaring her with questions. "Amaris," he greets the dragonmare, moving closer in a high-legged trot and momentarily forcing his mother to the back of his mind. He is far larger than last time they met, less fuzzy and cute, more hard lines and sharp angles. His voice is more of a rumble than a squeak, and of course he has the red dragon perched upon his shoulders who was only a distant dream last time. "Hello again." The ruby scrambles between his ears to peer curiously at the mare, fierce head tilted.
LINEART: DARYA87.DA
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
And so it would seem she would fail on this task as well.
She didn't know how long she wandered since Akaith's departure, didn't know how long she stared at the miasmic lava flows, the molten rock with its strange hues and stranger tones. All she knew was that when her silence was shattered by the mention of her very name, she had gone on this patrol thinking she would be joined by others, and yet here she was, abandoned, alone. For it was not her herdmates who sought her out, but another familiar face, an Outcast whose ruby eyes she remembered reflecting in the ruby pool of the Deep Forest. The golden one looked at him now, through honey-hued eyes that appeared purple with the Veins reflected in them, a husk of the queen she imitated that day for him.
Had she fallen so far from grace that even to a colt, a weanling babe, seemed mightier than her? Had she failed so much that her herd no longer saw her as useful enough to even participate in a patrol with her? Had they given up on her, just as she had given up on herself?
It was undeniably the case, surely, for here she stood, on the cusp of the Veins, accompanied only by an Outcast.
"Volterra," she purred lowly back, a low draconic pulse entering her words, a tone only she and few others of her heritage could employ. Her tiara, dampened by sadness though it may be, still dipped to the youth, her eyes missing none of the changes that time had wrought upon his body and soul. The crimson beast upon his back caught her gaze, as dragons are often apt to doing, but the girl was too absorbed in her own misery to feel the joy she might have normally felt in seeing another bond created, another life enlightened by the soul-defining event that bound one to another for all eternity.
"You've grown," her melodic hum continued, as she turned her façade from him and peered out over the lava floes again, leathery wings shuffling by her sides as the warmth from the fires below were absorbed by her scales and skin.
She wondered what he wanted, but found herself unable to vocalise anything more - she was dead inside, hollow, empty. A queen without a purpose, a kingdom, a throne.
The way she says his name...it has his bonded standing tall, alert, chirping eagerly back. She speaks dragon, and Vérzés understands. But there's something about Amaris that is different this time; she doesn't seem to be holding herself as she did, and the crimson war-dragon notices. She is a dragonmare, after all - almost kin to the red.
To the giant yearling's considerable surprise, Vérzés springs from his back and glides gently down, prowling catlike towards Amaris. Gently his head extends, his pointed muzzle seeking to touch the mare's fetlock in a gesture meant to comfort, whilst Volterra looks at his bonded in astonishment. Vérzés has already begun to exhibit a dark and bloodthirsty nature, so for him to display empathy is extremely puzzling to the beastling. Then again, his bonded had never met Amaris before, a mare who is closer to the draconic species than any other horse the titan has ever met. "He's never done that before," he remarks, one sharp brow lifting. Still the dragon remains stood by Amaris' leg, chirping merrily in greeting as he does when he socialises with Nymeria's black.
You've grown, she says, and the yearling ruffles proudly. He has, mentally and physically. Perhaps living on his own without his mother has strengthened him even more than before, instilling an independence in him that he'd sometimes lacked. Surviving as a rogue made him hardy, and now he's doing that without the guidance and protection of a dam...It has grown him beyond his years, both in the thickness of his young muscles and the wilyness of his brain. "I have indeed. This is Vérzés." He gestures with his muzzle to the ruby. Bonding had matured him, too. He couldn't be selfish when he had a helpless hatchling to care for, and even now Vérzés is far from helpless, there is still a certain level of care that goes into ensuring the dragon lives to grow and flourish.
He looks to Amaris again. She doesn't look the same, not the proud dragon-queen he'd met in his youth. "Are you well, Amaris?" he questions in his rough rumble of a voice, looking at her through earnest red eyes. He likes the mare, admires her, cares for her in his own way, and his dragon's reaction to her tells him that something isn't quite right with her.
LINEART: DARYA87.DA
@[Amaris]
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
She was kin to the dragon - she was distantly kin to all the dragons that roamed Helovia, if one were to believe the stories told. Once upon a time there were only dragons larger than this mountain roaming the world, the kind who mothered her father, the kind whom she had visited and felt like she belonged.. Why didn't she feel like she belonged here anymore? Was she so different from them all that what equine blood she did possess wasn't enough? When she was with the dragons, they knew she was different, yet they still treated her as family -stop, she forced the thought to the forefront of her mind, shunning the thoughts that had plagued her when she was a little child from her mind again. I must truly be ill, to allow them to rise again, she added as an afterthought, sighing as she watched her own mental argument play out. She hadn't summoned a spirit since the time she had made a complete fool of herself in front of the leads of three herds - perhaps I should go to the Falls to ensure they know what worthless swine I am - she almost laughed at the thought, though it wasn't with amusement, but a sad sense of resignation to her fate.
Golden eyes followed the red as it crept towards her, arching a brow in a display of curiosity as it extended its maw to touch her caramel hued leg. It was only when Volterra mentioned that the dragon had never displayed such behaviour before that the dragonmare lowered her crown to view the ruby one, a low rumble echoing in her throat - the sound deeper than normal equine hearing could pick up - in greeting to him. She appreciated his gesture - it did in fact help, if at least in a sense of giving her some hope that in someone's eyes, she was worth something, even if that worth was a simple greeting.
"Vérzés," she said, tasting the word on her tongue as she rose her head to the height of her withers again. "Bleeding?" she added with a smirk pulling at her lips, her brow still arched in question. "Fitting," she nodded softly in approval - he was the crimson colour of blood, and no doubt when he grew he would make many a foe and prey bleed.
Speaking of the dragon was easy - dragons she knew, dragons she loved and understood. But the yearling posed a much more difficult question then, one that she did not yet want to face. Are you well? It echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her mind, sounding like an old record by the fifth repetition. The dragonmare remained silent for a while, allowing her gaze to drift, starting at the crimson depths of Volterra's own gaze and then turning to view the lava once more. Are you well, Amaris? the echo came again, and the dragonmare flicked both her ears backwards - not pinned in anger, just turned away, as if shutting something out. "I am as fit and healthy as ever," her voice, perhaps a bit sharper than before, replied, as her eyes darted back to his, daring him to object her. Having a depression hovering in your soul was one thing - admitting it to a near stranger was another.
Then the guilt starts, the sorrowful inner acknowledgement that she has been unnecessarily harsh against one who was only asking after her wellbeing. Another handful of moments pass and her ears flick back to normal, her expression softens as she silently looks for forgiveness in the young steed. "Tell me about how you bonded," she asked (though it came across as a bit of a command) quietly, her voice posing the question gently and yet firmly - she wanted to change the subject back to something she could handle, something she could focus on that didn't involve her at all.
The blood-dragon hears the noise, even if his bonded does not, and replies in kind with a deep, draconic rumble that comes from the very depths of his thick chest. At the sight of this invisible conversation, Volterra feels a stab of jealousy. He is used to the ruby being devoted to him and largely ignoring all others, so to see him lavishing attention on another is somewhat jarring. He quickly forces aside the emotion, though. Amaris isn't like other horses, and the yearling is rather fond of her - he cannot deny how draconic she is, so it is only natural Vérzés sees her as he would another dragon. So he simply watches the two interact through hooded eyes, ears flipped forwards in a vain attempt to pick up what they're saying.
Amaris says the red's name, then its common-tongue meaning, and the colt's head lifts, pleasantly surprised that she knows what it means. "You know what his name means?" Could it be that she speaks the language of his family? He keeps his crimson gaze level on her, watching her body language, awaiting a reply to his question - but she dodges it, answering about her physical wellbeing rather than mental, and his eyes narrow somewhat. Her voice is sharp and he hides a wince, because whenever Mother's voice grows that barbed edge, a bite or kick usually follows. Whatever is troubling the dragoness it seems she doesn't want to talk about it, so the beastling reluctantly allows the topic to drop. For now, at least.
He's fairly easy to sidetrack, and swells with boyish pride when she asks how he bonded. He might be older now, darker, but he still has an almost childlike enthusiasm about dragons and is endlessly proud of how he came to meet his crimson companion. Vérzés turns back to him, powerful neck arched as he, too, prepares to listen to a tale he's heard hundreds of times before. "I came across a wild green in the Deep Forest," he begins. Such irony - a green, like his father's, and the Forest, where he first met Amaris. "She had been attacked by a massive bronze, her nest and eggs shattered. She was dying, and I stayed with her to protect her from any who may have wanted to torment her as she passed." He thinks unpleasantly of Abraham, torturing the dying. No mighty dragon deserved that. "I wanted her to be able to die with dignity, befitting her species. As she went, she gave me this look, and opened her wing - and there was Vérzés' egg. She'd managed to save it, just one egg, and she gave it to me." He swells visibly - he had received the blessing of a wild dragon. She had seen his strength, perhaps, to protect her egg, but also his empathy towards her regal species. She had blessed him.
He looks fondly down at his bonded. Sometimes he's hard on the red, as Mother is hard on him; they train relentlessly, as Volterra has no time for weakness. Sometimes they argue, sometimes he feels the dragon's childlike emotions bubbling with resentment as he's forced to fly against the howling wind, but always there is mutual respect and love. The black behemoth would die for his dragon, kill for him. Everything he'd wanted as a dreamy-eyed young child, he now has.
LINEART: DARYA87.DA
@[Amaris]
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
The young queen felt more at home in the company of the dragon than she had with most equine-blooded creatures she had met. Dragons were honest, they seemed to see the soul of a person rather than the physical traits that those of her other race saw. How long had it been since she had summoned her friends from the otherplace and felt their loving acceptance? Too long, she thought sadly, and yet still she did not summon them, she refused to touch the magic that resided so strongly within her - she did not deserve their love nor their acceptance, for she was no queen, not to them, not truly - not to anyone. But the red before her treated her as such anyway, and Amaris allowed the small blossom of hope to open up within her, the thin ray of light that might one day grow into the inferno that was once her passion for life. The inferno was a memory now, a vague idea in the back of her mind. Amaris had forgotten what passion was - she had forgotten was life was. She needed her dragons more than she cared to admit, but Vérzés was substantial enough for her for now - he had ignited some sparks reminiscent of the old passion that had fuelled her every move. She dared not think about what would happen when he and his bonded left her vicinity again.
A smile, a rare sight on her scaled lips in recent times, shadowed her maw as the cold questioned her understanding of his name. Though she would not summon them, she would always speak of her brethren kindly, with love and that almost-forgotten passion they gave her. "Aye," she said softly, "the dragons my magic allows me to summon come from many different lands, and their minds are woven in many different tongues. I have done my best to learn them all though there are plenty I am yet to hear and plenty more I will never know." The gift of language was just one aspect of her magic - what Amaris craved, what she needed was the soul-awakening her magic allowed her to feel, the bonds, however brief, were real enough to her. She had gone seasons without her magic before, she could survive without it - that wasn't the point.
She needed it now, and yet she refused it now.
The dragonmare listened to the tale the colt spoke of how he came to feel the bond between he and his dragon. Though the girl felt somewhat guilty for her sharp words, she had allowed a quiet amusement to seep into her gaze - she wasn't laughing at him, nor mocking him, but simply enjoying the tale for what it was - the bond was a magnificent thing, a truly wondrous and unique event that was surely different for every one who experienced it. There was always one similarity - souls were tied inexorably together, bound by a substance stronger than anything physical in the lands. It was a metaphysical creation, a twine crafted from aether and starstuff, that none could possible hope to understand in its complexity. A bond that can only be truly severed by death was surely a powerful thing - she could not help but feel some small joy that this strong young lad had experienced it.
"She recognised the strength of your soul," Amaris purred softly across the space that separated them. Growing somewhat serious again, however, the girl's expression hardened once more, and she tilted her tiara slightly, as if she were looking at him from another angle, all the better to peer deeper into his soul.
He can't help but wonder where her spirit-dragons have got to. The red and the green that she'd been accompanied by, that had so enraptured the then-young colt, were nowhere to be seen. He wonders how his bonded would react if Amaris summoned the spirits again, and the thought brings a smile to his face. With a final hearty catlike purr at the dragonmare, Vérzés flaps his wings and lifts back onto Volterra's broad shoulders, nestling down into his mane but not taking his eyes off Amaris.
She reveals her spirit-dragons taught her languages, and the giant yearling smiles. "Where are your spirit-dragons today? I think Vérzés would like to meet them." Again he wonders why she doesn't have them with her. They may not be as real as the true bond between dragon and equine, but Volterra imagines their companionship is just as precious. If he was dragonless but had Amaris' magic, he would always have the spirits near him, for companionship and knowledge. Oh, the loneliness she must be feeling without them!
He ruffles proudly as she comments on his story. The strength of his soul. And his body too, he hopes. Her final words bid the colt's smile to retreat, his expression growing as serious as hers. His massive head turns to touch his nose to his dragon's, a sombre understanding passing between them as the red releases a gentle chirrup. "I couldn't. Vérzés is my world. I would die for him, kill for him." He's reminded of the day with Isopia when he discovered his magic; when he thought his dragon was going to fly to his death in the forest fire. He remembers the sheer panic that gripped him, the terror at the idea of losing his mind-partner, a terror so great it had dragged up the magic from deep within his soul to protect the red. Their relationship goes beyond love, deeper than devotion, more intense than friendship. It is everything.
A small, sardonic snort explodes from his nostrils. "He's all I have now. Him and my sister, Nymeria. Our mother...she was stolen recently. Taken away by a beast of a man, away from us." The bitterness in his voice is evident. He hasn't spoken of his mother's disappearance to anybody except Nymeria, so saying it aloud to a relative stranger is odd. But he trusts Amaris, likes her, and he just needs to say it, to explain why his dragon is so important to him now more than ever. Together they will grow and take back what was taken from them. Or die trying.
LINEART: DARYA87.DA
@[Amaris]
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
As time dripped on, Amaris remembered one thing she had nearly forgotten about the colt that stood before her - he was not afraid to ask questions. The dragonmare watched as the red returned to his bondmate, and she felt that old craving rise up - yes, she wanted to use her magic, she needed to, and yet, she didn't. She refused it, even as the colt asked for it. "They are preoccupied with whatever it is spirits do in their spare time. Vérzés can meet them another time," she promised, her words spoken with kindness but underlined with a firm resolve that harboured no wavering from her decision. With a small surprise, she realised that she would indeed summon her dragons into this dimension again in the future, but she didn't know how far into the future that would be, nor what she would have to put herself through first, to find herself worthy of their companionship once more. But with this promise in place, to both herself and the red dragon perched atop Volterra's withers, she suddenly had the confidence that it would happen again.. No matter what.
She listened to his declaration of devotion with quiet judgement, though she felt that what he was saying was true enough, she did wonder just how his words had so swiftly gone to violent means. Did he think strength and prowess was being able to defeat one's enemies so completely that they never breathed another breath, never thought another thought that might eventuate your own downfall? Did he not believe in chances, in mercy, in leniency? She had to wonder, her thoughts contained to her own mind, not bouncing around others she might have normally called upon to discuss such things - now was not the day, not yet. Or was she being too harsh, too judgemental, jumping to conclusions she had little evidence to come to? Either way, Amaris allowed a small nod to move her chin in silent acceptance of his devotion to his dragon, though she gave nothing else away of her inner demons.
But his following words, and the bitterness that tainted them, only awoke those demons further - though Amaris could understand the passion that drove him to feel and speak this way (for the loss of family, the ones you love, was as good a reason as any to want to fight), she had to wonder why - and who. Just now, Amaris seemed to recognise the bald face that peered at her, the red eyes, the slightly unhinged passion. She hadn't dealt with the prisoner of the Throat directly, only observed from afar, learned to recognise the mare enough so that she could intervene should the mare seek an attempt to escape (again)… but still, as she considered Volterra before her, she wondered just who he was speaking of…
Could it be that she was one of his enemies?
Could it be that she held the power to help him?
"I am sorry to hear of your loss," the dragonmare began, speaking her words honestly - there was no greater terror than the idea of one's own family in peril. But was Confutatis truly in peril? Hadn't she created her own destiny, made her own choices, and fallen into her own prison of contempt and debauchery? "It is a comfort to know kin of mine will be guarded so passionately," she motioned to the red, the kin she spoke of - for all dragons were kin to the young queen, no matter how far back ne must look into the roots of history. "Where does your mother reside?" she asked finally, yearning to ask more, to spill out a dozen questions as the colt had done to her on their first meeting - alas, Amaris had better control of her tongue than that, and so hoped that this question would be sufficient enough to gleam the information she suddenly needed to know.
05-31-2015, 05:22 PM (This post was last modified: 05-31-2015, 05:24 PM by Volterra.)
VOLTERRA
you will remember me for centuries
Preoccupied. The giant yearling quirks a brow, but makes no further comment. He had always assumed that the spirits only existed when they were summoned - the idea of them having their own lives outside of when Amaris brings them into the world is alien, to say the least. But he accepts it as true, and his crimson bonded gives a small grunt of acknowledgement. In his mind Volterra can feel the dragon's disappointment - he rarely gets to socialise with his own kind save for Nymeria's black, and Volterra had told him many tales of Amaris' spiritual companions. But he hides his disappointment well, simply nestling closer to the beastling's neck and watching proceedings with a lazy crimson eye.
He watches her for any sign of reaction when he speaks of his mother; she apologises for his loss, and he's reminded of Isopia's reaction to those same words back during their killing spree. They might be hollow, but the yearling appreciates them, and nods sullenly. It is a comfort to know kin of mine will be guarded so passionately. At this, Vérzés sends an image into his head of him tearing apart an enemy of his bonded, of shedding blood for the man he has pledged his soul to. His meaning is evident, and Volterra gives an amused snort. "Vérzés says he will guard me every bit as passionately as I guard him," he says, a small grin shifting across his lips. It does not reach his eyes, however. They remain cold, hardened by the loss of his dam that brims so close to the surface now he's talking about it - he usually keeps the sorrow buried, because Mother always taught him that misery is for the weak, but try as he might he cannot purge that particular pesky emotion from his heart. He misses her, and there's nothing he can do about it. That's what drives him almost mad - a powerlessness he is not used to. With his size, his magic and his dragon, he is used to getting what he wants. He is not used to being denied anything, and his inability to protect his mother has affected him more deeply than he cares to admit.
His heavy head - which had momentarily sagged - lifts again to look at Amaris as she questions him. A part of him wonders why she cares, but he passes it off as simple curiosity. After all, he is plagued by the need to ask questions, so he can fully understand it. "I am unsure of the name," he confesses. Mother had taught him of the herds, but he has no idea which one she is at. "I followed her scent when she was taken, followed it to the edge of the world itself. In the distance there was an island, but no visible way of getting to it - a prison without walls. Only the Gods know how to get there." A grunt of frustration leaves him and he stomps one heavy, feathered hoof with irritation. If only he could sprout wings and soar alongside his dragon to his mother's rescue! "The man that took her...he had the antlers of a stag but the wings of an eagle. She told us to go, so he couldn't take us too." She sacrificed herself. Selflessness had never been something Volterra associated with the World Eater, but in protecting her foals she had shown it.
Perhaps blood really does run thicker than water.
LINEART: DARYA87.DA
@[Amaris]
[ you can't stray from what you are, you're the closest thing to hell i've seen so far ] [ use of force/magic on him is permitted aside from death/maiming ]
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
