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10-29-2015, 07:45 AM
i am the vanguard of your destruction
And so the tigress falls—another God laid to waste beneath the onslaught of Helovia's mortals, another victim in their divine crusade for expansion.
But who was to blame here, really? Spark and Moon, they had been careless, callous and prideful, arrogant even, and the bear and the wolf had sought to punish them for it. In those battles, the balance had been even. And Sun—Mauja didn't think age had mellowed him, because what was a few mortal years in the span of celestials? But he had tried at least, and Earth had tried even more, but been deceived. Here, as her body was butchered for the glorious defenders, she had chosen her own fate. Had she been afraid at the end? Had she struck out, struggled, because she did not want to die?
Or had she been powered only by her belief in herself, a fundamental inability to accept that she could lose? Regardless of her reasons, she lay dead, her skin dissolved into armor and her bones into weapons thrown to Helovians and Riftians alike. Mauja turned away, disgust upon his face. He didn't want the bloody trinkets cut from her carcass, because what were they, really? Bits of bone and skin imbued with magic as if that could somehow make them forget she had been butchered—like her lost brothers.
He didn't notice the claw cast to him, but Diego did, grasping it. Some day, it would go into Mauja's bag with the amulets and the glowing rock, but for now, it would rest in his talons. Mauja didn't want to stick around, didn't want to watch the world gorge itself on hollow victory and shiny toys—
He wanted to go back to the Edge, but he had someone to find first, and when he did, he started running, and screaming her name.
[ Mauja continues here. ]
But who was to blame here, really? Spark and Moon, they had been careless, callous and prideful, arrogant even, and the bear and the wolf had sought to punish them for it. In those battles, the balance had been even. And Sun—Mauja didn't think age had mellowed him, because what was a few mortal years in the span of celestials? But he had tried at least, and Earth had tried even more, but been deceived. Here, as her body was butchered for the glorious defenders, she had chosen her own fate. Had she been afraid at the end? Had she struck out, struggled, because she did not want to die?
Or had she been powered only by her belief in herself, a fundamental inability to accept that she could lose? Regardless of her reasons, she lay dead, her skin dissolved into armor and her bones into weapons thrown to Helovians and Riftians alike. Mauja turned away, disgust upon his face. He didn't want the bloody trinkets cut from her carcass, because what were they, really? Bits of bone and skin imbued with magic as if that could somehow make them forget she had been butchered—like her lost brothers.
He didn't notice the claw cast to him, but Diego did, grasping it. Some day, it would go into Mauja's bag with the amulets and the glowing rock, but for now, it would rest in his talons. Mauja didn't want to stick around, didn't want to watch the world gorge itself on hollow victory and shiny toys—
He wanted to go back to the Edge, but he had someone to find first, and when he did, he started running, and screaming her name.
[ Mauja continues here. ]
