.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
It had never been so hard to raise her head. And she had that day when she'd been washed up on the beach in firm memory. A white stallion had saved her that day, but it became increasingly clear that there was nothing her fair-coated little girl could do for her but cry. The icy cold nose that nudged her side gave her no energy, nor could the breaking, quivering voice rouse her to her feet.
Not this time.
"Erthë... litla dúfan mín. Listen to me..."
The child shook her head fervently, didn't want to listen. But Shadow continued anyway, her voice growing fainter for every pulsating flood of crimson that left her.
"Erthë. You have a brother. I... never told you about him, did I... His name is Kari. Find him, won't you? Tell him... Send him my love. Tell him 'I'm sorry'. Won't you?"
Shadow persisted until the girl reluctantly nodded. It was unclear whether she actually understood what was being said, what was happening, but the Blackbird had no time to explain. There were so many things she ought to have said, and done, and taught the girl! How to walk without breaking twigs every step of the way, how to blend in with the mist and the snow, how to cover your tracks and fend of predators and offensive stallions. She should have taught her more about flying, about the fickleness of the wind and how to navigate by the stars at night... How to love, and how boys weren't always bad.
Ah, but time was running out, wasn't it. The sun was blinding in the sky, but to her eyes it seemed dusk was falling early. She could feel the tug of a different wind in her blood-stained feathers, hear the call of exotic birds in the distance.
"One more thing..." She coughed. Blood splattered onto the dark lips, her voice barely audible now. "This... The horn. It belonged to a mare named Psyche. I kept it after defeating her, because... because.... Well. I don't remember anymore. Take it, and these things too. Return the horn to her, won't you? Or to her family."
Again the girl nodded, and Shadow smiled, finally able to relax. It wasn't so bad to lie there in the sand after all, was it. The pain had faded so nicely, and the sun was warm against her skin. Erthë was so pretty in the bright light, a radiant star so precious that everyone who crossed her path surely must come to love her. The best thing she ever made.
"Little dove... I love... you. Tell your... father... 'sorry' and.. 'goodbye...'"
The face of her daughters face blurred and changed, altered into the visage of the pale stallion who had captured her heart without even trying - probably without even meaning to. With his name on her lips she breathed out one final, long sigh.
And then there was only silence.
Shadow is dead. Everyone is welcome to post, just please let Erthë reply first!
HP: 42Healed
| Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Chan |
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"
"Mama? Hey, mama? Wake up... hey, wake up!"
The child's attempts at rousing the dark mare grew more and more frantic. The pain as her pleas were met with no response went beyond went beyond words. It was a gaping void that opened in her chest, an all consuming black hole that swallowed everything. The heat of the sun that beat against her skin, the murmur of voices around her, crying birds that flew past high up in the sky... They were all pointless compared to the silence of the shadow, the blackbird, the warm shade. Blood kept leaking from the deep puncture marks in her chest but it no longer gushed forth in pulsating streams, had stilled into a gentle trickle that spread the crimson pool wider around them.
Erthë stared numbly at it, refusing to believe it. No. The god was dead but her mother couldn't be. How could she be? They still hadn't practiced gliding on the Thistel Meadow, like she'd promised. They hadn't visited uncle Badger at the Dragon's Throat either, and how was she supposed to know where to go when the heat grew intense if mother wasn't there to show her the good spots?
She looked at the horn that had rolled out from its hiding place beneath a black wing. It was gnarled and stick-like, short and twisted and ugly, and the child resented it for no particular reason. A brother... she had a brother. He was.. where? How was she supposed to find him, and this Psyche. The names were strange to her, their faces unknown, whereabouts unknown. It was an impossible task. How could Shadow expect her to accomplish that, or untie the lockets from her tangled raven hair; the two amber stones and the glowing acorn, all things she had rattled around with playfully as they settled in to sleep.
The pretty, ivory bow that lay not far away was only spared a fleeting glance; it was unimportant, unrelated. Were she to take that too? Okay. Mother told her to, so she would.
"Mama... please wake up now..?" she pleaded, as tears streamed endlessly from unblinking eyes.
And never disturb me again"
@Miykael - maybe heal Erthë here? :3
~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~
| Outcast atk: 5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.0 :: 6 HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Mr. Teatime :: Siberian Tiger :: Sing Yewrezz |
|
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER |
| Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo |
So many circles were closing, as haphazard as sand blown about, or the ruffled wings of a fallen bird; here, where another battle had raged, the ends tied together and maybe no one would ever know.
Had he seen it, maybe he would've known—remembered—the horn that had once been the pride of his fallen love. It was just another dark thing lying in the pool of blood.
He knew the mare—knew the pitch black of her coat, knew the lines of her face. Not well, but he knew them, for he had saved her once, so long ago, but he could not save her again. Maybe, if he hadn't then, he could've now, but he was no angel—he was just a unicorn. He was just a frozen soul with the rising sun spreading out behind him like wings, and his touch could only harm.
The water was pink where it lapped against his frozen hooves.
The end had come for yet another.
He had watched a father mourn his daughter—he had been the sentinel, the one who had seen her begin, and one who had seen her end.
Now, he watched a daughter mourn her mother, and he was simply a fragment of her past, a kind stranger upon the beach. A wanderer, who simply had happened to pass her by—not even a King.
"Mama... please wake up now..?"
“Ërthe…”
It was his holy priestess who stood by the weeping child, the stars in her eyes as sharp as ever, gazing upon the fallen crow; Mauja felt too tired to feel anything. Too exhausted by this fucking nonsense to want to care.
No breath made the black sides swell. Only gravity pulled the last of the blood out of her veins.
Mauja didn't weep; cold anger smoldered in his gaze as he glared towards the Sun. He had promised peace, and instead, he had delivered death. He had left a child motherless. He—well, what the fuck did he care anyway? Mauja would never forget the raging flames destroying the Edge, the careless rage which flung an ancient mare aside like nothing of value.
There was much Mauja would never forget.
"I hope you found your heaven," he said instead, his voice cold iron. He couldn't bring himself to feel in this mess—could barely care, because the fury was so much larger than his soul.
It was easier not to feel.
Easier not to feel the dread weight crawling through his veins, the erratic sparks of anger, of fury, of helplessness—the bitter rage at the cruelty of the world, of the gods, of his own god-damned past. How many children hadn't he left orphaned? How many lives hadn't he torn asunder? How much destruction hadn't he wrought?
The least he could—should—do was feel. Give in. Collapse. Acknowledge the suffering death brought.
Stop being such a fucking coward who hid within the ice.
When Psyche died, he had cried. When Psyche died, he had lost himself in an unreality, a place where nothing seemed real. "She won't wake," he finally told the little girl, reaching down to touch her.
She was cold as Death itself.
Cold as her mother lying in the pool of her own blood.
"She's left us." Quiet voice, quiet words, quiet eyes; he breathed against the snow-cold skin.
He wasn't strong enough to feel. He wasn't strong enough to let the anger break his skull apart; to let the sorrow burst his heart; to let anything but faint echoes of the emotions into existence. Ashamed, he closed his eyes. The only thing he felt was the weight in his heartbeat, the dissonance in his veins; a quiet song humming in his blood, a dirge for all that which was lost.
We all lose, in the end.
He had saved her once, but he couldn't save her again.
He was the Light of Dawn, the last, bright star to forsake the sky—
He was no angel.
Night had fallen, and there would be no dawn again. Silence had taken yet another, and silent she would remain.
(At long last, he glanced down, and saw the bloodied horn.)
And silence reigned in his heart, too.
[ @Erthë @Maren ]
| Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE |
| Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk |
kings among men
Perhaps they would have walked right past it and never noticed. It might have been better. But the world wanted to remind them of the its harsher side one more time. Haldir saw it first. Having been glued to the golden’s side his sudden stop, concerns the gold. Looking where his companion did the scene unfolds in slow motion tragedy. A dark mass lay heaped, broken and still. And by it a white angel, no child. The pair, he knew them, from where…oh. “Fuck.” His narled voice sighes. His chest begins to ache and breath gros ever more shallow, the reaction to the scene unbidden comes storming in. It was too late to turn back now, and knowing that hell was all that awaited him he could do nothing else but turn towards the growing gathering.
He comes like the others around, silent sentinels watching the harsh realities of the world crash upon the fair child. But inside the sinking pit was pulling him down. Though face was cold as stone, locked in the strain of its own struggle, inside he was anything but still. He had been doing alright. The scene in the Basin, it had left him weak, the mountains before that had threatened, but the golden was still here. But this. Now. In this moment. His knees quaked and the old long treaded threads of thought that ever seeped into his nightmares begin to play before him again.
Why must he witness the too soon turning of the world? Always see the mother fall with the child still clutching their breast. Why must all be so much the same. So much like… Crowned head wavers, heavy with the thoughts, falling low. Always a babe. Always beyond his control. The black bird and her snow child had come into his world like hated trespassers. They should be gaining doing this to him! They couldn’t. It was not sane. The reaction did not match their tale. But you see, that is where the insanity of it lies. Their faces could be replaced by any around him, and it would still grip his chest in the forming ice of fear.
He was the golden son, the thief of the Basin, the golden lord of the north. A picture of power, pride, and skill. A captive. Lies wrapped around like chains forming his prison. Old wounds made sore and more tender from their constant reawakening. How many ages is it becoming now, how many seasons where someone seemed to barge into the sacred halls and pull at them. Where they gripped his neck tighter with their cold iron touch. And in the weakness of his sickness, in the near constant blur of remembrance, it took only the sight of the pair to drag his head down into hell of his own making.
God he couldn’t do this. A strained breath fails to come and he’s left to gasp and rack for air again. A soft nudge nearly threatens his balance. Haldir. The deer looks up to the gold with worry in his eyes, and already instinctive smoke rising at his hooves. Earth eyes narrow, but then a voice breaks through. Haldir looks and the gold does as well. Others were here. Watching. Next to the stoic creatures alongside him, a pathetic lord. Good gods. It breaks the scene and the trance. The lies wrapping back around him quickly, restoring the bleeding chest to its golden gleam. And just like that, even in weakness, and sickness, he is the golden.
Earth eyes grow distant and cold, dull, and the crowned head rises back up again. Harks twitch as the creature steps forward to touch the snow child. Now though his heart was locked away, and the lies ruling by some insane hand, hold their vice grip on the reins. [in elvish] “Take her home.” The dark deer looked with pained face to the gold, but found on strained and careless earth eyes waiting. ”We all go home.” The deer’s reply was stronger than the golden expected, but it was rejected. “No. Go.” The deer languished, but his frame sank, and he slinks forward. The gold watches on in forced distance, yet caught for a moment in a coughing. He does his best to stifle it again, wiping the blood upon his foreleg.
Small and meek the injured deer come closer to the snow child. He was not much taller than she. It was long ago he had come to her before, to use her for her own good. Now he hesitates on the edge, knowing what the golden wanted but too anguished to touch the child. The golden, his senses coming back after his struggle sees the hesitation. Gut clinches, threatening a relapse. “Erthe, ho-….” A cough breaks his speech and he never finishes….home waits. ....Haldir will take you to the Basin. Will get you out of my sight. Will stop you from threatening my sanity. But he couldn’t say it yet. When the trembling frame stills again he is silent.
"Talk?"
OOC:: Crap post is crap, I'm so sorry. This deserves so much more. Haldir will escort Erthe home to the Basin if she wishes. =]
thranduil
![[Image: 5381546acbe33]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5381546acbe33)
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.
| Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5 |
| Gelding :: Equine :: 15'2hh :: 10 HP: 62 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Snow |
|
@Erthë
| Outcast |
| Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17hh :: 11 :: Birdsong |
| Eliana :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Rottie |
|
[Awful post. So sorry but at least it's here. <3]
@Erthë
![[Image: mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png]](http://orig02.deviantart.net/51ca/f/2015/290/e/5/mikey_by_moonstone_designs-d9dgnba.png)
icon base: Bronzehalo :: from Nickel <3
permission for all except death and dismemberment.
** please tag miykael in replies **
replies slow? check here for status updates.
| Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Chan |
And my heart would forget it's made of glass"
Numb. Cold. Disbelieving.
Someone called her name, and the voice seemed to come from very far away. Erthë turned, and her eyes as she looked up and saw others gathered around the fallen mare was black with grief. There were so many of them. People she knew and people she had never seen before, familiar faces and unknown strangers. Again and again her name was called, mumbled words of regret and sympathy.
But she felt nothing but emptiness as she listened to their laments.
A white unicorn, spotted with inverted stars or perhaps dyed in mimicry of a stone-strewn winter mountain side, told her that her mother had left. That made absolutely no sense to her, because her mother was still there, wasn't she. Her body was still warm, the blood was still oozing from the gaping wounds in her chest, the tangled mane still fluttered in the soft breeze. With the lids closed over amethyst orbs it looked as though she was simply asleep, dozing in the bright, warm sunlight.
It was just her sides that didn't move, only breath that didn't stir the glittering water beneath the soft nose. The mare looked too peaceful, an expression the pale child had almost never seen on her mothers face while she was still...
While she was still alive.
Maren was there, and the painted healer, Miykael. He did something that enveloped her in a sensation of warmth, like fireflies and rays of light and glowing embers swirled and danced through her body. It tickled and warmed and chilled, and it might be her imagination but the filly felt as though it became easier to breathe for a moment, as though the black muck loosened in her lungs. The golden lord of the Basin said something, but she couldn't really make out what.
It wasn't until Badger spoke that she stirred, finally reacting to something that was being said. Clumsily the filly got to her feet and limped over to the dark equine, pain and sadness and the gravity of her loss spilling over in new icy tears as she made to press herself against his chest. There she remained for quite some time, the slender young body quivering and shaking as she let emotions take over; not oblivious to those present, just too overwhelmed to respond to their kindness and quiet support.
And never disturb me again"
@Maren
@Mauja
@Random Event - GLL healing :D
~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~
| Dragon's Throat Sultana atk: 9 | def: 11 | dam: 4.5 |
| Mare :: Pegasus :: 14 hh :: 6 years HP: 73 | Buff: DANCE |
| Kygo :: Green Cheek Conure :: None Blu |
|
the Mother of Companions When she saw Shadow's fallen body from the air, and all the slowly gathering horses, Ampere's stomach sank. Slowly, her body did too. She had never been exceptionally close to the mare, but after rescuing her from imprisonment it had been the mare's invitation to the Throat that gave Ampere so many opportunities. She had been one of the first friends to the Mother of Companions when she'd had none. She had... she had lamented the loss of another child, and Ampere felt at fault. She had screamed at her when they got off the boat, and she tried to help, but to what end? Exhaling softly Ampere shuffled forward, head bowed as she carried that last fight, that final encounter inside her heart. "I will find your Kairi" she whispered, the promise something unbreakable as she forged it over the body that grew cold. When her blue gaze finally lifted, she was surprised at all those who had gathered. From watching, most seemed connected to the pale filly the mare left behind, while Ampere knew nothing of her. What a strange relationship, she mused, but one she was sad to loose. |
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.
| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Equine :: :: |
