the Rift


[PRIVATE] remembering the fallen || falling into memory

Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
#1
Lace is dead, too.

Lace is dead, too.

Lace is dead, too.

Why, why, why now, how, why…?

The dragonmare left the gathering that was her mother's funeral with her ears tilted somewhat back, her brow furrowed in concentration. Why, why, why why why, why… the word rebounded through and through her mind, over and over, until nothing but a hummm of whyhyhy existed in her mind.

South seemed to be the direction to drift towards, and so south she went - she could not be in the Edge, maybe in the future she could try to return there, but not yet, it was too soon, too soon. Holding it together when she was presented with her mother's corpse was easy in comparison to having to deal with the aftermath, the shockwaves of emotions as they broke down the dam wall and flooded the senses with their vivacity, their cruel and pointed ways.

Tears might have been trickling down her cheeks this whole time, but now they seemed to return, renewed and refreshed with their determination, leaking from her nostrils and trickling down the back of her throat as well. The mare was beyond holding them back now - she sniffed and she coughed, she spluttered and muttered her groaning, agonising way through the bush, pausing in surprise when her forelegs splashed in the pond of the Grove. Here, here is where the Moon Goddess brought her back, here is where she kept her all that time, only to let her die, die, die…

Suddenly the dragonmare was filled with a torrent of rage, an anger bright and hot. An equally bright, white dragon appeared above her cranium and let loose a torrent of dragonfire across the surface of the grove - as Amaris felt the white's soul brush against her own, she felt her mind, and seemed to become one with the dragon for a moment - it felt as if she were the one spewing the flames out, she was the one who had come from another realm, pulled forth into this one in an angry rage.

You've been here before, Amaris' inner voice spoke to the dragon, sensing the female's familiarity with this place, sensing that she was once a bonded dragon, when she lived as flesh and blood in this world.

It all came at once then - the flood of information, the memories, the grief. Amaris couldn't tell if the memories were her own or if they were the dragon's, but she was stunned into silence except for a single word that she croaked at the spirit who floated before her.

"Fajira."
Amaris
drákos istoría
theartlex | larfsalot
on deviantart

@Cathun
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#2


She does not want to be with them, to be with her, not while her soul is shattered and her mind is blank. The girl walks through the world numb, her fire finally burned out. Were it not for the heartbeat of her brother, she thinks, she might not be alive at all; but Natraj clings desperately to the world of life, his stubborn optimism both a blessing and a curse. She is trapped within him as surely as he is within her, caught up in his vivacious passion for this thing called life

I used to be like that, she catches herself thinking, and the thought is like a knife.

She is trapped within him, and drawn to him, and it is his call which brings her back like a reluctant spring, coiling into the embrace of her family despite her aching trepidation at the thought. No, she snaps, screams, begs- yet her hooves are moving of their own accord, her body dragged south to the source of his soul. She hates herself for her weakness, hates herself because she knows she wants it, because deep down she yearns for it. Hates herself because she will not accept what she deserves: isolation and decimation, the destruction of all she is.

She has spent little time at the Secret Grove; she has no lover to stride with under the moonlight, for whatever this thing she and Reginald have, it certainly is not love. There are some she may have shared it with, once, but they are long gone; and besides, they were little more than echoes, possibilities that never bloomed to anything more than passing friend.

Still, she thinks as her body breaks free of a copse of trees and her eyes reluctantly raise to meet a scaled face, if she were to walk through the woods, if she were happier and whole and willing to love again, it would be with her, the only soul left in this world she can truly say she loves.

"Amaris," the Fire Dancer chokes, a dangerous crack in her quiet facade opened to reveal the vulnerability within- then black eyes catch the white dragon's ghost, and the crack snaps shut.

The knife in her chest twists.

Her sunlit face flickers back into impassivity: a strange look for the fire child to wear, but the one she hides behind most often now. Natraj has returned to her hooves, hopeful and pleading for her to just talk, to feel, to remember what it was when they were young and the world was theirs, full of promise and magic and happiness but it hurts, hurts so much to think about and she can't, Raj, I can't, so just stop asking me, ok, because I CAN'T.

She breathes heavily in the silence, embers rising around her face. Her brother balks and whines imploringly, slinking back to Amaris' heels. He is lost, utterly lost; he shelters beneath their cousin's body, wishing for all to be right in the world. The girl stares blankly at the rippling pond, willing herself into a state of calm, forcing her gaze from Amaris, from Fajira, her mind a careful illusion of quiet above a raging storm of pain.

The knife is drawn, and blood flows free.

"Kaj was there, when they died. And a girl. She built a memorial... it's in the woods." The words fall like stones from her lips, listless and dark, clean of inflection and truth. Empty facts that mean nothing.

They took him from me, and cursed me for caring.

Her eyes are still dry.

She is breaths away from the dragonmare, but it feels like miles still stretch between them. Every moment of absence is another yard; every struggle they have not shared, a mile. How can they begin to reconcile, when the Fire Dancer isn't sure she knows the mare beside her anymore? She wishes she could hold her, soak up her cousin's pain and take it for her own; her narrow shoulders can bear the burden; she is already numb. Don't let this break Amaris her weary heart screams, yet how can she save her cousin when she could not save herself? She is nothing, not the moon on her face or the fire in her blood. She is worthless. She is broken. She is empty.

Mirage is dead, and the Fire Dancer cannot bring herself to cry.
x - x


@Amaris

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
#3
The dragon was brilliant in her glow, pure and white, seemingly larger and greater than Amaris ever remembered seeing her in the flesh. Her mind was a maelstrom, a torrent of emotions and colours and memories slamming against her own all at once - the dragonmare could barely stand upright against it. It beat against her mercilessly, though unintentionally. It caused quite the ache behind her eyes, as the dragonmare did her best to construct mental confines for her own mind to escape the oppressive onslaught from the white Fajira.

Fajira, please, she pleaded mentally, calling out through the overpowering waves of emotions rolling off the dragon. I am here now, you are not alone, you are not lost!

Suddenly, silence.

And then:

"Amaris."

It was not Fajira who spoke, but another voice, one she knew better, more intimately than any other on this world - Tandavi.

The dragonmare looked to her cousin, her oldest friend, the only remnants of her family who still walked the same soil as she within Helovia. While she held her cousin within her molten gaze, she was able to weather the onslaught that Fajira wrought upon her mind, able to contain the dragon's spirit in such a way that was not restricting or cruel, but comforting and supportive.

Tandavi was speaking again, and Amaris felt the fire within her turn to ash, felt her eyes of molten gold solidify and freeze over. She mentioned Kaj, the creme steed who Amaris had once called uncle, she mentioned a memorial, and though she did not say it directly, Amaris knew she was talking about Lace.

Lace is dead, too. And Fajira. Oh, Fajira..

Heartbroken, wasted, dead inside, Amaris looked to the glowing light once more, and felt tears wet her cheeks once more.

"It's not fair." The dragonmare was speaking to no-one, and yet everyone. "It's not fair," she said again, stomping a forefoot and swishing her tail, hearing the crackle of her electrum whip as it partially unfurled and snapped. It was an afterthought that she remembered Natraj, remembered his dark form by her side as she lit her own mother's body aflame, remembered his constant shadow following her as she wandered about the site, a lost babe praying for something that simply couldn't happen. She had never felt abandoned by her beloved Tandavi, even if they spent so many years separated - she sorely hoped that her cousin felt similarly, and though she made that prayer to whatever Gods might deign to listen, she would not blame her dearest cousin for hating her.

The dragonmare turned to her cousin then, to the Fire Dancer with the golden moon upon her face, and buried her tiara amongst the other's mane, seeking an embrace only family could surely fulfil.
Amaris
drákos istoría
theartlex | larfsalot
on deviantart


@Tandavi
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#4


In the expanse of space after the collapse of her words, Fire Dancer holds fiercely onto her isolation, clings to it as a dying girl might the flotsam of her destroyed ship. She shrouds herself in the bitter distance, imagining a tundra between herself and her cousin- but the tundra is crumbling, steadily and undeniably, shattering with every step the dragonmare takes. Tandavi's world shifts between her cousin's weight, the raft of her independence quivering beneath this added weight. She wills it, prays that Amaris will come no further, for if the child falls back into the well of familiarity, she is certain to drown.

The light of Fajira is too bright to focus on, so firechild stares instead at the lake, onyx gaze skimming restlessly over distant shadows, her attention refusing to settle on any single one. Still, she sees the reaction elicited by her careless words; she is drawn to it against her will, her eyes drifting unbidden to the cousin whose face is awash in pain. A distant, rebellious part of her longed to comfort the stricken girl, to pull her into a flaming embrace, draw her tight against her breast; and another part, a smaller part, a wretched and twisted part thinks that Amaris deserves it, that her cousin should suffer as she has suffered, cry as she has cried.

You are turning into Reginald, a voice (Natraj's? Her own?) whispered in the girl's head, and she shuddered, repulsed, a sickening loathing growing in her throat. No, Amaris does not deserve this pain, but she does, deserves all of it and more, for the monster she has become- the monster she has always been.

It's not fair, her cousin cries, and the copper child silently agrees: no, it isn't, it isn't fair for one so good to see so much bad. It isn't fair that I could not spare you this, cannot protect you even now. The world is not fair, my little dragon, and I wish I could be what you need.

But I cannot.


For a moment she is too locked within her own mind, and so she loses track of her distraught kin; when Amaris next enters her awareness, it is through the feeling of warm scales and hot breath on her neck. Ebony eyes open wide and the girl's muscles ripple in a minuscule start, an electric current leaping through her hollow form. Desperately her mind she resists her cousin, fights against the force of attraction, the love which sings between their souls, as surely as it ever had between the girl and Natraj; and just as surely her body succumbs, relaxing slowly against the dragonmare's embrace, neck arching almost unconsciously, protectively, over her cousin's poll.

"I'm sorry, Amaris," she murmurs low against her cousin's mane, deep voice quivering with repressed emotion, black eyes staring across the water and into something deep, unknown. "Mirage loved you... so did Lace. So did my mother. So do I."

She pauses, and now at last her eyes grow moist, though her mind rails against it, her heart beats a furious No. No, she will not cry for them, not again, not now; she will not falter, will not allow sorrow to fill her cup, for with sorrow comes memory, emotion, remorse. If she allows herself to feel she opens herself up to deeper cuts: or so she repeats, again and again, a marching mantra of stubborn soldiers pounding in her head. Only anger can burn away the pain, so she clings to it, wears it in those moments where the still is too much to maintain, lets it sear away all of her that still remains, leaving behind a hollowed husk.

Her voice is vibrant when she speaks again, brittle with betrayal, weary beyond her years. "Love is not enough," the Fire Dancer whispers harshly.

Tears fall down her cheeks.

x - x


@Amaris

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!


Amaris Posts: 299
World's Edge Philosopher atk: 5.5 | def: 8 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Hybrid :: 16h :: 4 years HP: 70 | Buff: NOVICE
Dramyrth :: Gold Dragon :: Fire Breath & Frost Breath Whit
#5
Tears burned in their sorrow, their fury, their heartache. They burned as they pushed themselves free from the clutches of her golden pools, to stain the pale sheen of her cheek dark and angry and ugly. Tears fled the confines of the dragongirl's countenance, as if fleeing from the darkness, the dread, the misery and the depression that lurked within - as it their vacation would relieve these feelings, fix them, mend them… Only they could never be fixed, never mended, because everything inside the dragongirl was shattered, ruined, lost into the abyss…

Amaris sniffed back the sobs, she attempted to deny their purchase upon her golden form as she shuddered and shivered against her cousin. Her cousin, Tandavi, who had always been there. Her cousin, who had lived through so much loss before Amaris had even come to realise who she was. Tandavi, who was the Fire Dancer, the strong, the reliable, the steadfast. Tandavi, who had lost her entire family to the wraiths, only to have her, Amaris, the unworthy, the weak and sad and desperate, return from the doom and gloom preaching about mistakes and apologies, only to leave again, always to leave..

"I'm sorry," she said, she cried, her words mumbled and jumbled, broken and hitched. "I'm so sorry, Tandavi," she was pleaded, crying, hoping, praying - she was sorry, sorry for her absence, her nonattendance, her inadequate support and presence. She was sorry for the times when she had even been there but not been enough. She was sorry because it was what her mother had said - "I'm sorry," the DragonHeart said as death took her through the chest, "Tell them I'm sorry," she cried as her knees gave way and her dragon dived once last time.

"I'm sorry," Amaris said once again, as if twice was not enough - thrice would not be either, she knew. Death hung heavy in the air and atmosphere, untouchable and yet forever present - death is what destroyed them, the Fire Dancer and the Dragongirl; death is what would rise them up above all others.

"I love you," she cried again, though the sobs were subsiding to silent tears, the shivers and shudders stilling as her nares breathed in her and Natraj's scent. Amaris clung to it, to its familiarity, its security, its support. She did not deserve this - she deserved nothing more than to be abandoned - abandoned like Tandavi had been time and time again - but instead, here was her cousin, her confidant, her family, by her side, loving her and supporting her and soaking up her tears as they fell upon her sunkissed hide. Amaris had lost her mother, her father and sister were unlikely to return, her uncles and aunt perished long ago - but Tandavi had lost them all, for they had run, they had fled the realm and they didn't take her with them.

The dragongirl was too swept away with her own misery, her own grief, to recognise how deep Tandavi's went, though perhaps she would, one day. Amaris cried, for it was all her body knew how to do right now, it was she could do, until she woke up from this bad dream to live in the nightmare of reality once more.

"I will follow you, anywhere. Everywhere." Minutes had rolled into hours, and the tears upon her face were damp still, but she spoke with a steady, quiet yet strong voice. She spoke without tremor or hitch, but with confidence and assurance. A promise; a vow. Amaris had sought her solitude for reasons unexplained - to find herself? To grow, learn, discover? The dragongirl had learned plenty - she had learned that she wasn't enough of anything yet - she wasn't strong enough or smart enough to take this world on alone. Amaris needed her guiding flame, her cousin, her Tandavi.

Amaris, she heard the echo again, then, and realised the magic that summoned those from the other realm was still alive within her, still burning and holding fast to the white soul that was Fajira. An ear at first followed the mental sound Amaris felt, before the girl was standing side-by-side with her cousin, unwillingly (unable?) to separate herself from the Fire Dancer just yet. Fajira, Amaris crooned back to the glowing white who hovered still above the pond, a spirit as magnificent as that which existed when the dragon still had living flesh to call her own. "I'm sorry I missed your last day here." she spoke to the dragon, so that her cousin might hear her words.

The emotions flooded in return from the dragon, like a faucet suddenly turned on full power - but Amaris was ready, or at least more ready, for it this time. Though burnt out and exhausted from the turmoil her own soul was generating within, the grief, regret and then the peace, the overwhelming, soothing sense of peace came rushing in from Fajira. Tandavi, can you feel it? Amaris asked, unknowing that she only spoke with her mind, that the words did not pass her lips. The peace, the sheer magnitude of it, almost filled the dragongirl to bursting - she had to stem the flow, the pseudobond was too great. Amaris concentrated to keep Fajira here but to lower the intensity of the bond they shared - the white dragon flickered in and out for moment before Amaris stabilised it again.

"Peace be with you," she said, though she didn't know who she was speaking to anymore.


@Tandavi
Permission granted for Tandavi to hijack Amaris' magic and feel all the feels Fajira is sending.
Amaris
drákos istoría
theartlex | larfsalot
on deviantart
No need to mirror my post length - I have a horrible case of the rambly writer syndrome!
I like being tagged!
You are always welcome to 'try' and use force/magic on Amaris, but similar to spar posts, leave it to me to decide how the damage is taken please~

Tandavi The Fire Dancer Posts: 245
World's Edge Nurse atk: 6.5 | def: 9 | dam: 4
Mare :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 5 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Natraj :: Plain Kitsune :: Fire Charks
#6


She imagines a world where she is whole; where her cousin's sorrow breaks against her and is absorbed rather than reflected, where the warmth of her embers is torrid enough to burn through flesh and restore the soul. Amaris' tears fall like so much rain, bleeding into the Fire Dancer's coat and staining it, saturating it in sorrowful black; she wishes she could take it all, could bathe in the blackness if only it meant the dragonmare's heart would ring joyful once more. She wishes she were strong enough to stand beneath the onslaught of the world and not falter, not bend, not fracture and burst into a million pieces, scattered and glittering on the forest floor.

But she is not strong enough. She cracks, and shudders, and finally breaks.

It's the voice that gets her, the half-sobbed apology which spits fire into her heart, sets her trembling with unquenchable- what? Anger, agony, resentful remorse; she quivers beneath her cousin's embrace, taut as a bowstring, tense as a wire. Her brother whines pleadingly, sensing the rising tide of her woe, the black blight of agony which coats her inside and sticks to her throat, making her breaths come ragged and her heartbeat hitch. He knows she has heard what she does not want, for sorry is a useless word; sorry fixes nothing, sorry moves no mountains. I'm sorry is selfish, a shifting of blame; and copper child already blames herself. Amaris is sorry; that should be enough; but it won't be, can't be without an echoing action, and she has already seen the actions of her loved ones fall short.

She clenches her eyes, anger bright on her moon-slashed face, but does not draw away. Her trembling may well be the spasms of a sob; how is Amaris to see, to know? No, Tandavi does not pull herself physically back, but the moment of intimacy, of trust, is gone. There is distance between them now, miles of it, all the years and all the sorrow a wall the copper child hides behind. She retreats back to it now, propelled by the sorry, by the unspoken follow up: forgive me. Because she does not know if she can.

(I will follow you hits the wall like a wave, forcing through the cracks and flowing over her again- and she sobs again, aloud this time, though for what she does not know)

The smell of magic fills the air, white and hot as light on the snow; black eyes open and the girl sniffs, raising her head to find its source, gold face awash with a fresh sort of pain. "Fajira," she whispers, and her dark voice cracks, because she feels it, feels her, a gift (a curse) from the cousin who still stands by her side. Fire Dancer gasps at the weight of her soul, the brightness and clarity brought on by the dragon; it swells within her breast into something almost calm. Tears fall freely down her gold-kissed face, tears for something beautiful and sad. Beside her Natraj howls a bittersweet tune; it echoes on the water and rebounds back, a symphony of foxes taking up the note.

x - x


@Amaris

o. pixel pony credit to tamme
o. permission granted to use force and magic on Tavi
o. only tag me in opening posts, please!



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