"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.
This child would be the death of her, Meg was sure of it. She’d been beaten in battle, she’d been burned in the pit of Helovia’s Heart but always before the fit of fury had been enough to ride out such temporary hurts. What were flames and striking hooves when righteous anger surged in your heart? But this was a very different kind of battle, one that Megaera had yearned for and had dreaded. When the pain came, she found no anger to mask it, no fury pumping adrenaline in her veins; she only found worry that was all the more potent because it swung in and out of her mind right along with elation and excitement.
She loved this child, her child, though she had yet to look on its face. From the first moment she had felt the stirring of life inside her, first noticed the growing swell of her sides, the love burst into her heart. It was easy to recognize. Though she had never before grown a babe in her womb, she had been a mother for one whole, glorious year already. The love she had for Mordecai was no more or less then what had grown in the mare’s heart for this new life, and every day it was a marvel to Meg that her heart did not burst from it.
But for Megaera, where there was love there was always fear. Always… The fear of loosing and of being lost; fear of threats seen and unseen and the possibility that she might be unable to shield those she loved from all harm. And she felt the fear now… The end of her pregnancy had been difficult, and she had been surprised every day that her belly kept on growing. It was too big, she knew it. The mare might not have had much experience in these matters but she could not ignore the whispers in her mind. The child was too big for her, Einarr’s child was too strong, too robust for her small frame. It had grown too big too fast, something was different, something was very very wrong. For weeks she had tried to keep occupied, tried to push these thoughts aside, but the hormones had her emotions running riot and too often we she found a quiet moment her inexperience crept up to haunt her. What if she couldn’t do this, what if she failed him? He was strong and beautiful and magnificent and she was small and weak and small and small and small and small and small. She was’t good enough. If something happened, if something went wrong, how could she face him? How could she face herself?
No… she would think to herself, No Megaera. You have never been weak! Like a pendulum swinsg, so fell away doubt so many times every day and she found her confidence again as well as her joy. So many times she pictured the child, healthy and strong standing beside her, and couldn’t stop grinning like a cat in cream. She remembered the feeling of little Mordecai against her in those sweet and tender moments that seemed lost now. Her adopted daughter had grown far to big and independent for such frequent cuddles, and though Meg was proud of the young mare she was becoming, that time had been so precious and she was giddy with the thought of experiencing those feelings again. She imagined a hundred different possibilities, soft little wings, and pretty little dark faces, and each one so beautiful, so very very dear. Megaera’s fiery heart always a gooey puddle when it came to her child…her children!
And so her emotions found their peaks and valleys in quick enough succession, rendering the poor fat lump of a mare a veritable wreck. For the past two days the sociable Sultana had been avoiding contact with everyone, often snapping at anyone she came across for any trifling offense and sending a snap of her teeth at anything that tried to touch her swollen belly. The support of Gwaihir was an inexorable comfort though she caught herself snapping at him as often as whining to him. His patience was only ever afforded to his bonded but hot her it was endless, though he had learned to stay out of reach of her teeth lately and avoided his usual perch on her back. He really couldn’t blame her, feeling enough of what she felt to know just how uncomfortable she was. When she withdrew into a secluded and shady part of the oasis he remained close by.
The hours of the night seemed to stretch on and she knew her time was near. The little clearing she had found near the lake was surrounded by palms and the heat of talon had not yet crisped away the covering of grass yet so the ground was lush and soft. For hours, she paced. Lying down and standing up again time and again but she found no position what was at all comfortable. Every few minutes she reached for her aching sides as her muscles contracted, craning her neck but still barely able to touch her nose to the rounded flesh. Finally, in the hour before the dawn she lowered herself and the true battle began.
- - - - - - -
The boy came first, and for a few blissful seconds Meg had thought her work done before the muscles in her abdomen seized again and in a matter of minutes his twin sister followed. By some miracle both came forth healthy as could be and Megaera could not remember a more beautiful sight than the twins laying side by side, warm and safe. She shifted so they lay at her front, but was still too fatigued to make herself stand. For long minutes that seemed like hours she was held in rapture by the two little bodies. “Two…Two!" she murmured with a gentle laugh, well that explained why she had been so fat, she thought wryly. ”Einarr, aren’t they beautiful? So beautiful...” She glanced around as she whispered for the stallion, not even knowing if he’d come in time to see them, but her eyes were quickly drawn back to the two little bodies. She moved her face over each or them in turn, cleaning, warming, caressing, breathing in their air and blowing her own scent into their tiny, perfect little noses. If behind her the ground was stained with more blood that it ought to, the darkness of night masked it, or at least the Meg did not notice.
It didn’t take long for her to drift. Meg would have given everything for her children in an instant but it seemed she already had. The twins had come into the world against the greatest of odds, both healthy and robust; the blood of the Warden and The Sunspear. Meg had given them her strength and kept none for herself. Her eyelids began to droop slowly, and each movement she made became slow, lethargic. In the branches above Gwaihir gave and almighty screech as he finally separated the pain of his Meg from what it should of been and realized it to be far far worse. Ha descended from the branches, hopping to the side of Megaera’s neck and pecking at it in evident distress. Not even their link could penetrate her growing delirium and instead of responding to the Eagles peals only smiled sleepily at him. She kept murmuring reassurances to the foals and the agitated bird but even her quiet words slurred and then stopped as her head slipped down to lay between the babes and Meg slipped, slowly, out of consciousness. Gwaihir gave another scream and pecked furiously at the bay’s neck and buffeted her with his wings, trying to wake her but even he began to slow. The pull that dragged at Megaera had caught him it its grasp as well and finally his head fell against her. Valiantly, he tried to fight, but he was so tired, so very tired and his angry screeches faded only to mournful trills.
"."
[ooc// Nizho and Asavvi are heeeeeeere!!! If someone wants to make sure Meg doesn't actually die from internal bleeding, that would be greeeeaaaat.] @Einarr
The sun had barely begun to creep over the edge of the horizon, driven by the love and devotion of our Patron God to ignite the souls of those of the Dragon's Throat with vigor and faith in a new day. So much had been happening lately with strange new lands, and their even stranger immigrants, followed by intense battles and foreign diseases. The healers had been working relentlessly to find cures for these strange illnesses, my own case having been strangely healed when I had joined the last fight. With a sigh, I looked down at the small charm that I had received from the Sun God to commemorate my joining in the battle against the mighty crocodile. The scale glowed against the twilight hour, tied into my mane to play as a constant reminder towards my duties as a loyal member to the Dragon's Throat and follower of the Sun God. Though I had very little interaction with any of the Gods as a whole, I was pleased to know that the Lord of fire and light had not forgotten me. As I studied the small scale, I knew that I would here on out before forever loyal to Him, trusting in his wisdom and guidance, trusting in the family of the Throat that barely knew my name...I would prove to him that I was still a worthy follower, I would prove it to all of them that I was still a viable member of this society, quiet but useful to all those who would be in need of me.
As though the Sun God had heard my silent promise of dedication, a strange sound broke through the early morning air. A bird's frantic cries and screeches that even sent my beloved Pongo on edge, his large ears flicking back as a sense of unease washed over us both. 'Help!' The bongo was still only able to get a word or two through to me at a time, but his blunt direction needed no explanation as he bounded off towards the sound. Perhaps because it was the sounds of a companion's cry that Pongo knew something was wrong, giving me no time to waste as I rushed after him. Leaping over rocks and bushes, we headed towards the Oasis, racing the sun that urged me faster. It didn't take very long for the sharp, metallic scent of blood filled the air, accompanied by the slightly sweet smell of amniotic fluid. 'Sultana!'
I damn near skidded to a stop when Pongo's voice rang clear as day through my mind, fear rushing over me as I caught up to him only to confirm his truth. Lying on the ground was the Sultana of Dragon's Throat, nestled beside two newborn babes. Two?! "She needs help...Pongo, give them space." I commanded, sending him off to the side while I stepped a bit closer. From first glance, the children looked fine and I turned my focus to the pegasus mare that lay on the ground. Her falcon was desperately trying to wake her, and my ears flicked back with uncertainty as I tried to think of what it was she needed. Behind her, there was blood. So much blood. That couldn't be normal?
'Leaves.' My companion hinted, reminding me of when we had first met another healer, Badger. He had spoken of how he had kept a mare from bleeding out during childbirth with raspberry leaves. Quickly I reached back towards my mane, fishing through my braids for some of the herds I always kept stored for safekeeping while my thoughts reached out to the God of the Sun. I prayed for this to work, I prayed for the Sultana to wake up, I prayed for the babes to get to know their mother. "Come on, Sultana!" I shouted as I at last found the precious leaves and lowered my crown to the Sunspear. Gently, I tried to push my nose beneath hers to lift her crown in hopes that she would try and get her to wake just long enough to eat the leaves. "Don't fall asleep yet, you can't sleep! Look at your babies, they need you. They need you awake, you're stronger than this!" My voice cried out as I tried everything to encourage her to open her eyes while I tried to push the raspberry leaves half into her mouth. It was up to her to wake up, it was up to her to eat the leaves that could save her or leave them there as she slipped into an eternal slumber. Even Pongo bleated helplessly to try and get her to wake up, more or less shouting at her companion to keep trying as well.
Desperately, I searched the surrounding area for something else to help. Spotting a clump of moss growing on a nearby rock, grabbed a mouthful of it and headed towards the Sunspear's tail. "I'm sorry, forgive me." I muttered through a mouthful of moss as I got up close and personal with the bay mare's wounds from childbirth, pressing the moss against and spots that were still actively bleeding. Without any magical capabilities, there was nothing more left that I could do. My scarlet gaze looked up for the father of the children, hoping to meet eyes with him as I stepped away from my Sultana and patient. "It's up to her now..."
GAUCHO I'd bring you further roses but it does you no good.
The screams that permeated through the air drew the Sultan's attention quickly, and pulled him from the skies.
He had known that Meg was pregnant - he had seen her sides swell, and having been a Father many times over, knew the signs. Normally he would have left the birthing to Meg and Einarr, but the endless sounds of pain that the dark mare was emitting were cause for concern. The Wildfire knew that birthing was by no means an easy or painless process, but he also knew that Meg had a fairly high tolerance for pain - that she was calling out this much surely meant something had gone wrong. Darting down towards the bloody sands, the flames on Gaucho's wings burned brighter than normal as magic surged through his system. He knew what it was to have death lingering near a birth, and so he disregarded whatever privacy his warriors might have wanted for this intimate moment. The Sultan would save his Sunspear and her children, if he could.
Gaucho's darkened hooves touched the sands as his lithe form moved towards Meg. "Hold still. This not hurt -" He called out, his voice strong and confident. That it would probably be frightening and unexpected was something that he did not articulate. Better his Sultana and her children be frightened, but alive. Warm light poured from his feathers, as he thrust an arc of fire towards the Sunspear. His flames, heatless as always danced over her body, licking her wounds as real flames would cover kindling. This was magic gifted to him by the Sun, and Gaucho was proud to use it now to carry on the Sun's legacy within the Throat. A legacy that Meg was certainly a part of.
As his flames bled away, Gaucho edged forward to see if more was needed. It did not surprise him - though he did grunt slightly - as his steely gaze spied two bodies in the sands. Einarr - who might have been a distant cousin if nothing else - hailed from the same lands as Gaucho. Twins were common there, and so seeing that his progeny here would be twins was fitting.
"How Meg feel?" The Sultan asked his counter-part, remaining a respectful distance away so as not to hover over a warrior who probably did not want to appear any more weak than she had to.
I know something isn't right. I seem to be drawn to births like a moth to a flame, and the irony of that is not lost on me. New life within the herd is certainly of interest to me, and I approach with a spring in my step despite my lingering sense of unease. Foals, foals, all the foals! Maybe this one, like little Erthe, will grow attached to me. I can certainly hope so! I will never father a child myself, which only makes me more determined to aid the offspring of others.
But, as I say, I can tell something isn't quite right even before I reach the birthing area, even before I see the worried faces of the gathered horses and hear the unmistakeable sounds of a mare's pain. Call it a woman's intuition (I know I'm not technically a woman!) but something feels...wrong about this particular birth. I hurry my stride, feeling my stock of herbs brush against my cheek from where they're tucked in my halter. I may have rank magic now, but there's no replacement for good old fashioned herb healing. It's served me well all this time, and has never let me down. If the situation calls for it, though, I will use the power that glows within me, begging for release.
When I finally arrive at the scene, I see Megaera on the ground with two - two?! - bundles by her side. Despite the severity of the situation, my mouth splits into a smile. Twins! I didn't know such a thing were possible in our species, and I feel delight bubble up in my chest. To think, these two little souls will grow up with each other, able to share things that only siblings can, never alone, never without a friend. It's such a blessing for the lucky little sausages - but their happiness will be somewhat dampened if their dam dies in childbed. I won't let that happen.
I see Morrigan, and she has already done what I would have done, with herbs. I beam my approval at her. Then I see Gaucho, the gigantic king of the herd, and I smother a quiver at the mere sight of him. I assume he is the sire of these foals, because it's the king's perogative to impregnate his queen, right? At least, my limited (and purely instinctual) knowledge of wild horse society tells me that this must be the case, and I would certainly not want to be the unlucky man caught mounting one of the Sultan's mares. I'm just about to go about my healing business when Gaucho uses his wings to touch the Sultana - my eyes boggle, wondering why the hell he's setting her on fire, but to my surprise his wings don't burn her. Does that mean...he's healed her?
Well, talk about stealing my thunder! But healing is not about getting the glory - it's about being happy to see someone fixed, even if you're not the one who applied the bandage.
I look to Megaera, my hazel eyes gentle. "Tell me if it hurts anywhere in particular, my queen, and I will do my best to help you." I am assuming she returns to consciousness, of course. I look to Morrigan, hoping she will tell me which herbs she's given to our queen, so I don't accidentally overdose her. Of course, I'm itching to use my rank magic, but I'm also quite happy to stick with what I know - my herbs. Had Gaucho not used his wings, then I would have used my God-given powers, but now that seems like it would be too many cooks spoiling the broth.
Heaving chest of the sea
Carry both of us
Carry her, carry me
The last time Einarr clocked the cycle of the sun, the moon, and the way someone's sides swelled it was a completely different event. His daughter, Mordecai, had been born outside of these lands to an outcast mare that Einarr had danced with only once. He remembered flying hard when he knew it was time for her to enter the world, and he remembered how his heart hammered against his chest when he watched Histe rip at Mordecai's wing. It was the first time Einarr had seen a woman act with hostility towards a strong, beautiful child. In his home, birth was a blessing--and a birth from someone as esteemed as a warrior as he was was an even greater blessing. Histe had not agreed to that ideal, and Einarr had to end her life because of it. But, the inky stallion knew today would not be like that day. Today's birth would be celebrated with words of praise and feast! The Sultana, a proven mother and warrior, was giving birth today!
The black warrior had stayed near Megaera as she roamed restlessly, and his darkened hide was the target to many of her bites when he got too close. He understood, however. Einarr's home tribe was continually birthing in the warmest of seasons, bringing new and strong warriors into the world. The warden knew how mothers could, and would, attack even fathers that meant only to dote on their pregnant mates. It was their instinct to protect, and even the most generous and warm-hearted of all acts could be seen as treasonous from the eyes of an overprotective, extremely hormonal woman on the edge of birth and on the last thread of patience. And so, after receiving an especially harsh bite to his withers, Einarr was not as reluctant to go on his patrol as he had been the past few days.
But when he returned home to the desert sands, his heart raced and pounded against his chest with panic. Megaera was not in the place she had been when he left, and so he searched hard for her. Finally, when he heard her voice and the overwhelming scents hit him, the twins already lay nestled at her side. The massive man stopped some yards away, body dissolving into a kindled ember of love. Two foals lay with the woman he called his own, twins born of strength and fire. They were beautiful, strong, and healthy--even as Einarr stood with black tar staining his face. "Megaera..." He whispered, eyes widening with a sudden surge of fright as he watched her head hit the ground.
NO!
Einarr surged forward, but there was already a swarm of others. The emotions that clouded his head and the disease made everything fuzzy, and as the bright sight of fire moved past his left, Einarr quickly stumbled backwards. He was being punished. He thought darkly, punished for killing Mordecai's birth mother. Now the twins' birth mother must die as well. Einarr's head swam with the thoughts, running through his head like a trainwreck in his native language.
The stallion stood quite some time in the distance, eyes shut tightly and breathing heavy, waiting for the end to come. But it did not, and he hesitantly opened a reddened eye as Gaucho spoke, his black hair wet with the sweat of panic hot on his heart. He let his eyes flicker to the other healers around him. As his heart settled, Einarr felt a mixture of thankfulness and anger come over him. He was thankful that these desert children stepped in to help their Sultana -- but he was angered and wanted them to leave his mate and his children now. He kept his tongue silent on the matter, however, for he knew not even he could touch his children right now, for he would surely infect them with the disease he had.
He was so ready to get out of this place. It was warm, and he always felt safe, but it was growing too crowded. There was someone else in this warm, safe place, and the foal grew restless as it kicked at him and pushed him against the walls of their warm, safe place. So, he decided he was leaving.
It was almost too easy.
After very little struggle, there was a sudden burst of light and sound and the foal ended in a lump of liquid and fur and feathers on the ground behind the warm, safe place. However, his sense of freedom was short lived when he felt the body that shared his safe, warm place slide out and hit his back. If he could groan, he would have. The other body had followed him, and he was sure it was going to kick and push him again in this new place. this place that was warm but dry. He liked it here, he decided.
The safe, warm place moved away from him and began cleaning his body. He could have purred at the feeling it created, and his tiny body did shake with some form of happiness. His safe, warm place would always protect him, he knew that. Her voice was soft and sweet, but as it faded he found a yearning for it and blinked open his speckled eyes. The light was bright, but he adjusted in some time. Everything was a blur at first, all shapes of greens and red blobs. He wanted to call out for his warm, safe place but all that was heard in the warm but dry place was a tiny grumbling noise.
In rebellion to the fading voice of the warm, safe place, little legs kicked out. He needed to do something about this. Tiny, cloven toes finally got underneath his stilt-like legs and he heaved himself up. Staggering, the colt focused on finding his footing before trudging his way toward the safe, warm place. A greedy nose rummaged around her belly before he found what his stomach wanted. Milk that was warm and filling. With no acknowledgement given to the many other foreign bodies standing around him, the other foal, and the safe, warm place, the colt hungrily devoured his first meal in this warm but dry place.
"."
Drinking freedom from a bottle to the tune of belong
It was difficult to say when her consciousness began. Like a star is built slowly, gas and rock condensing over many thousands of years, so too did she grow from the tiniest speck of potential floating in the darkness. Before her thoughts could be separated or defined by any earthly language there were fundamental truths that already made up who she was: she was safe, she was growing, and she was not alone. As long as she could be sure of anything, she was sure of the life, the light, that grew beside her and the one that surrounded them both and held them safe in the warm darkness. Time, as far as she could understand, was measured in the steady waves of vibration and sound (the heartbeats of the one that held them) but to one who knew no better, those beats might as well have measured centuries or seconds. Whatever the whim of fate held in store for her in life, however isolated she might become in later years, at least she did not have to face the start on her own. It was comforting at first, to have a point of reference as she floated in the darkness, but then the darkness shrunk, (or maybe they grew) and the gentle nudges of the other one became shoves as their roomy home became too small to hold them.
She moved because somehow she had to, an instinct that insisted she stretch and exercise her body to prepare it for...well, for something. Still, the other was always more active than she, maybe not bigger, but certainly bolder, and he seemed to shove her endlessly. It was her first lesson in patience and it would always serve her well. The first moment of unease that the little one ever experienced was when their home seemed to constrict around them, the already too-small space shrinking, and then the other left her. Even if the warm darkness was a bit more comfortable, the absence was a discomfort, a change in the safe norm that was all she’d known, so she followed.
Even in the cover of night, everything was so very bright when the little filly followed out and into the blessed world. The blur of color and shape was only a fraction of the wave of strange new sensations that washed over her. The smells of the desert, the heat of her other’s familiar shape beside her, and the new but wholly comforting feeling of the presence of the one who had held them. Brother, mother, she would learn the words eventually, but both were close, and gave her comfort as she adjusted to her new surroundings. For several precious moments it was just the three of them, the gentle voice of her mother brushing over them before fading into silence.
Silence only for the shortest breath and then the world itself seemed to panic, or at least all the newborn filly knew to be the world. A flapping, feathery thing was screaming at her mother, and more arrivals were moving, speaking, hovering around the still form of the bay mare. Everyone was too fast, too loud, and the girl let out one frightened bleat as she tried to struggle to her feet. There was a big one, a scary one, with a deep voice and then all at once her mother was covered in orange lights that shifted and shimmered. On legs that wobbled beneath her, she started to back away, seeking the safety of the dark and the quiet again. But her mother rose, and though she did not understand yet the words she spoke, the sounds pulled her forward and she wobbled back to tuck herself into the safety of the mare's wings and seek out a first meal.
"."
10-28-2015, 07:59 PM (This post was last modified: 10-28-2015, 08:00 PM by Megaera.)
Megaera was sinking into darkness, into the cool blackness of oblivion that was so horribly unfamiliar but could not pull herself out. The fog encroached upon that beautiful scene, hiding her children from view, and only her companion’s soul followed her own as both were unwillingly pulled into the mist toward the land of death. There were muffled voices she knew from the Throat that reached her but she could not answer. Her Sultan called to her. Her mate whispered her name. Her darling little daughter called out in surprise, in fear. ’Why can’t I answer?’ the confused thought drifted through her mind, through the cold. ’Why can’t I go to them? I want to go back. I must go back!’ The fire reached her before she was irrevocably lost. All of the sudden it blazed around her, into her, and illuminated her path back to the land of the living, back home, and Megaera raced to reach it. Some might have embraced the cool comfort of the blackness, but she would always answer to fire, to light.
The air rushed into her lungs in a strangled gasp. Black eyes flew open, wide and wary as her waking mind struggled to remember what was happening. “Einarr!” The name hissed through her lips a desperate, instinctual call to her best ally that painted her heart on her sleeve. The foal, her foal, twins, where what instantly sprang forth into her mind, but there were bigger bodies around her, others who hadn’t been there a moment ago. They’re too close! Too close to my children! Half a second after her eyes had opened, Meg jerked and twisted to rise to her feet in a flash. Before she even glanced up to see who these others were, before their voices sparked recognition, the mother thought only to defend her babes. Her wings reached out closing over the two little bodies that had already begun trying to stand on wobbly legs. Revived by the Gaucho’s healing fire and aided by the efforts of the other healers, she stood ready and poised to fight off any threat to her little ones.
Thankfully nothing came rushing at her; none of the adult figures that moved about her moved toward the foals and in truth the only thing that had threatened them had been her own life slipping and that had been restored to her. She searched the faces and each one she found was familiar to her eyes. Gaucho, with his bright wings lighting the oasis, and the two dark healers, Morrigan, and Badger, all of whom she she should trust but with a mother’s caution so strong a glance at each held the message of ‘keep your distance’ in her narrowed eyes and twitching ears. Her wings stayed out, blocking the little pair from view and drawing one to each side as they shared their first meal. she flicked her feathers to take a quick glance at each before turning to the voices.
“I… I am well.” The words were a strange mix of uncertain and brusque. Gaucho, Badger, Morrigan…she craved the company of only one other beside the babes at her side and they all seemed a little like intruders. Birth was a private scene in the best of cases and Meg had nearly just proved that it was too much of a task for her. Had she really almost died? Had she really been that weak?!’They are family. she reminded herself, and they had come to help her, to save her, and that meant a great deal even if she wasn’t the best at expressing it. She tried to soften her voice, to put the gratitude above pride and looked between them. “Thank you. I will be well, truly, I…we are blessed that you were here, thank you all.”
Her eyes found Einarr then, standing much too far away from her liking until she recognized the black gunk that marred his face and understood. She smiled at him, the first true smile since waking though there was sad understanding in it that she could not call him nearer. She would not risk the sickness passing to the children they had made together and knew he would not either. For him, she lifted her wings again, so he might at least see the little ones at her sides even if he could not yet greet them properly. Almost oblivious to the others(or at least more comfortable with them near), Meg bent her head down to each nursing foal to be sure both were well and then looked up to Einarr again and spoke to reassure him. “One boy, one girl, and both are well.”
i will ride under no banners but my vengeance will unfurl
So that was why her mother had been getting so fat. Because her father couldn't control himself and had to knock her up when his first child wasn't even finished growing yet. Mordecai had stood some distance away, watching as her mother struggled through labor and pushed out not one, but two foals. Broken up flashes of what had happened to her shortly after her birth flashed through Mordecai's head and she wondered if that was what was natural. The mother would try to kill the newborns and the father would fight to protect them and kill the mother. So then she would lose her mother again? Then who would be the mother to the two new foals that were already struggling to rise while Megaera stayed on the ground?
Others descended upon the new mother and the newborns and Mordecai watched them from where she stood, studying and wondering over the whole birth nonsense that she had just witnessed. Her head tilted and a frown pulled the corners of her mouth down as she watched and listened to everyone fuss over Megaera. This was now how her own birth had happened. This was something strange and different. Why were the foals not being dragged around? Why was no one shouting, why were there no threats of death and violence? Why was there no battle, no fight to the death? Was her whole perception of what was supposed to happen wrong?
As Meg rose to stand and spread her wings to defend the two newborns against everyone around her it only further confused Mordecai. She no longer wanted to stand far away and so she walked closer, slipping past her father and everyone else that had come to heal and bear witness to the birth. They were the least of her concern.
First she looked over her mother, who seemed to be strong even though she was tired. Then she ducked her head down to check out the first foal, the girl, with a critical eye. Mordecai snorted then moved to inspect the colt. Her muzzle bumped against his neck and shoulder as she sniffed him and felt his tiny, frail little body. "Mine." She rumbled and she began to nibble at the fur on the boy's back, grooming him as if he were her own.
Others had rushed to the aid of the Sultana, eager to help save the Sunspear from the darkness that beckoned her closer. I glanced at each new face, backing up respectfully as Gaucho stepped closer to the bay mare's body. My scarlet orbs widened with surprise as flames licked at her flesh without leaving a single trace of burns or scarring. My own breath had been choked in my throat as I watched with frightful eyes, hoping, praying to the Sun God that our beloved Sultana would awaken. Sure enough, the magic of Gaucho's power had revived her, healed her well enough for the mare to spring protectively to her feet. I could not blame the mare for her instincts, minding my space as she flared her wings out protectively over her children.
A sigh of relief escaped my lips as I finally released the baited breath that had lingered too long in my lungs, muscles that I didn't even know had been tensed releasing with gratitude. I had done all that I could for the Sultana, using all the knowledge that I was aware of to try and heal the mare. But it was not my doing that she had risen to her feet, it was the magic of our Sultan. Even the magic of other healers, ranked higher than I had been such as Badger, would have saved her. But I hoped that they could not fault me for trying, by the God's did I try. It didn't matter now, all that mattered was that the Sultana was alright and ready to bond with her young family.
When she thanked all of us that had come to her rescue, I dipped my muzzle respectfully towards her, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. This was not my place, I had no business intruding on the personal time that the mother would need to bond with her children. Glancing down at the nursing twins as she pointed them out to her mate, a smile flashed across my lips. Another filly, one that I didn't know the name of but certainly had seen around the Throat, began grooming the colt. I assumed she was a part of the family, and my presence was only growing even more unwanted. Mentally, I called Pongo to my side before he could get too curious and try to sniff the twins without Megaera's permission. "They are beautiful, Sultana. Congratulations." I wasn't even sure if she was entirely aware of what I had said as I dismissed myself from their private moment, lowering my muzzle to Pongo's rump to nudge him along. "See!" He protested in my head, a small, pleading bleat blurting from his mouth. 'You can see them later...We are not needed...'
OOC: Morrigan has left.
Verbal/Physical Abuse permitted, no permanently injuring or killing please.
GAUCHO I'd bring you further roses but it does you no good.
Gaucho knew that Meg was strong of both body and spirit - yet his gaze did not lift from her until he was confident that she had enough strength to hold her own. He could only imagine the toil that was giving birth, and while he did not want to pressure the mare into acting as if she was okay, when she was not, he needed to hear her say that she was.
Her admittance of such was enough for the warrior. He was not one to dote, not one to second guess. If his Sultana said that she was fine, then she was. Besides, she was in much more capable hands with Einarr.
Pulling back, he eyed the darken warden before drawing up short. He saw the telltale signs of a sickness that Gaucho had recently cured himself of. The dark ooze was enough of a giveaway, and the Wildfire knew from first hand experience just how contagious the sludge was. With his ears pinned back at the sight, Gaucho inhaled sharply, fanning his wings from his flanks. "Yer elat kazga athzhikhar! Gwe!" Although Gaucho was knowingly demanding of the Father to leave his mate and newly born twins, his authority as Sultan was not to be questioned. Though he was sure that Einarr would realize that his demands were only there to protect the new lives, taking their first breaths upon the sands.
"Vorsa kolat. Einarr zisat, but Einarr kolat. Yes?"
Gaucho waited for a sign of confirmation from the warden before proceeding. Unlike the flames that had covered Meg and her twins, these flames were hot. They radiated outwards, unyielding towards Einarr. His skin would tighten, and his fur might even fuse together, but he would be able to bear the pain.
And importantly, he would not pass the sickness onto the fertile young lives that were now his to guard.
Yer elat kazga athzhikhar! : you have the black sickness!
Gwe - Come!
Vorsa kolat. Einarr zisat, but Einarr kolat : Fire heal. Eianrr will hurt, but Einarr will be healed.
11-07-2015, 10:02 AM (This post was last modified: 11-07-2015, 10:03 AM by Badger.)
ALCHEMIST
Another winged man arrives, who seems to be the father. Ah, such a lucky fellow! Two gorgeous children, and a wife strong enough to bring them into the world and survive the process. Unfortunately, he smells of the disease, and I look at him with concern. If he infects the foals...I'm about to point that out when thankfully Gaucho seems to do that for me, which is a relief. Megaera speaks too, thanking us, but my instinct tells me she would rather be alone with her children and husband. I shift my weight nervously, torn between my desire to leave the new mother in peace, and my desire to be a good healer and make sure she's well.
Morrigan takes her leave, and I assume she's feeling the same amount of awkwardness as me. Then a filly arrives, declaring the boy as hers. My ears pin and I shoot her a dark glance - who does she think she is, to claim a foal as hers? But I trust the colt's dam or sire will put her in her place, so I keep my displeasure to myself. It's then that the twins' father bursts into flame, and I spook to the side in alarm. Then again, I reason, my own healing magic involves flame. It is not too great a stretch to think that this is healing, too.
Megaera seems...if not fully healthy, then at least not liable to keel over and die at any moment. I finally decide it's my time to leave, to let mother and children bond in peace. "I will leave you to your children, Miss Megaera. Please, if you or your twins become unwell, seek me out." I smile at her, then allow myself a glance at the children. God, they're so beautiful, all spindly limbs and innocence. Imagine if they were of my blood, were mine to nurture and grow...but no. Wishful thinking will get me nowhere. I nod to the other surrounding horses then take my leave, so the new family can get to know each other without my prying eyes.
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