Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
Winter. Forest. Night. Paint the velvet sky bright with stars, hang the moon in a thread from the tip of a barren tree. Snow spread on the ground, glittering like a thousand captured rainbows tied to the earth. Mist hides that which cannot be seen, that which must not be seen. Darkness. Shadows. Beneath the glaring mooneye a shadow walks in the shape of a horse, walking in the cathedral of naked trees. Sun kissed, Earth blessed. Moon watches, and Time passes slowly by. Shadows are alive in the moonbright night, they slither and crawl, whisper silent words that cannot not be heard. Must not be heard. They speak the language of the murmuring water, black and soft like the touch of death, like the gentle stroke of a silken muzzle, tender and loving. A creek blocks the path of the traveler, blinking, twinkling, starlit water envelops the hooves and holds him, stops him, keeps him in place. It whisper to him of secrets and tasks to be done, of home and family and happiness, a warm embrace and the sweet fragrance of a lady's skin. Shadows closing in, the water black between the glittering reflection of the moon and the stars. Endless, timeless, it rises up around him, wrapping around his body and slowly taking shape...
The stallion stirred in a deep, restless sleep. A flick of the tail, distraught grunts. The eyes were closed, masked head hung low where he lean against the thick trunk of a tree, lost to the waking world. It is not a peaceful night. He'd had few of those since the Qian had been declared victors and owners of the land of the Moon. Night after night he was hounded by dreams, some hauntingly beautiful, filled with stars and wonderful things, and some terrifying nightmares that made him claw himself awake, shivering in cold sweat. It might have been tolerable, if he just could remember what it was he dreamed about. But somewhere between dream and awakening the content of the visions faded away, leaving only a sense of having forgotten something important, something he had to remember.
It had snowed earlier during the day, a thick snowfall that blanketed the ground in a layer of soggy snow. A thin, miserably cold wind swept in from the sea, sending the perpetual mist into chaos and making it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Most creatures had taken shelter where they could, in burrows and dens, in thickets and the barren forest that at least managed to dissipate the worst of the wind, but offered little in terms of protection against the cold. The grullo stallion and his white dragon had spent the day together, huddling with their backs against the wind and dreaming up lands of scorching sun, endless dunes of never ending sand and rock, where water was hard to come by and food never enough to stave off the hunger. They had spoken of their journeys, of lands that now seemed very far away and all the strange creatures they inhabited.
Now, as the storm had blown away and left the sky clear and with a biting chill in its wake, the slender little dragon sat perched on a branch above her sleeping soul mate, quietly gazing into the night. She missed nothing that moved around her, but most of the focus was turned inward, to the dreams that yet again disturbed her friend's rest. The symbolism of the hazy visions was not lost on her. She had noticed the newly awakened possibilities that lay dormant within Lace's soul, the sleeping power and the gift bestowed by the Moon Lady. She wasn't clear on why the Goddess had chosen him of all horses, and it didn't matter much; the problem was how to make the humble stallion realize that he wasn't quite as normal as he claimed. Not anymore.
Fajira was loyal and loved him more than life, but she had to admit that her bonded could be rather thick sometimes. By now, most would have tried to speak to someone about their problems, asked for help to stave off the dreams and get a decent nights sleep. But no, not him. Instead of admitting that something was wrong he shrugged it off, pushed it to the back of the mind and focused instead on insignificant things like borders and herd numbers. He shrugged off her advice as well, rolled the eyes in that infuriating way as if she was speaking nothing but gibberish.
And while the obvious solution to the whole problem was to simply tell the horse about the doors that had been opened within his mind, the dragon hesitated to do so. It was important that he discovered for himself what he was capable of, or he would never be able to fully embrace the true potential of his gifts. He would think it something he wasn't deserving of having, that it was undependable and unnecessary, without realizing that nothing ever happened without a reason.
Fajira sighed, breathing out a soft white cloud of breath and smoke into the crisp air. The wings on her back unfurled, stretched up and out before folding neatly toward the back once more as the barbed tail slowly swayed and coiled in the air beneath the branch. There was one other way of solving the matter. Black-and-Gold DragonHeart had been able to change Lace once before. She had brought him out of the choking darkness and served as a beacon of light, a goal and guide out of the depression that had possessed the stallion for years. If anyone, she should be able to find a way to reveal the truth to her thick-headed companion; and if it ended up with Lace feeling even more indebted to her, then it was only for the best. Perhaps it would be enough to make him stay here, instead of taking off as soon as the snow melted and the mountains became easily traversed again. Yes, perhaps this was the best way.
With determination growing in the mind, the slender lizard spread her wings wide once more, sparing a thought to the sleeping horse beneath her as she slid off the branch and took to the sky. He was dreaming still, struggling against gleaming tendrils that tried to take shape into monstrous beings; Fajira sighed again and left him alone to fight with his inner demons, instead working her way upwards until she soared high above the leafless canopy. A soft coo vibrated within the throat, creating a sound that carried far across the land and hopefully would manage to reach the ears of the golden queen, the noble bonded to the DragonHeart. She would speak to Akaith first, consult the older and wiser dragon on the subject; she would decide whether this was for Mirage to interfere in or not.
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♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
| Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE |
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Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath
Whit |
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Roles had been reversed. When the bond was first forged between dragon and equine, the equine spent much of her time worrying over the over-exuberant nature of her dragon, and often wondered how long it would take for the little golden one to overcome her constant state of childish excitement. It didn't take long for the dragon to learn the ways of her bonded, for the subdued, tricky nature of Mirage to eventually trickle on over to the mannerisms of the dragon. As Akaith grew, she naturally settled down more, and maintained a sense of individuality despite being eternally bound to the shadowy little mare. Without her, Mirage could only wonder where she would be today. Certainly, she never would have discovered her other nature without her.
It was this other nature that had reversed the roles of dragon and equine. Where Mirage doted upon Akaith with patience and guidance when she was young, she now took on the role of a childish dragon, learning her wings for the first time. Though she had possessed her magic for some time now, she had been so wrapped up with securing her homeland for her brethren, she hadn't a chance to truly enjoy her magic. So despite the foul, freezing weather, a golden dragon, her bodice the size of an adult horse's but far more denser, and heavier, packed with sinewy muscle tissue, cavorted in the skies. It was excellent practice, having to dance between the icy buffets of wind and snow, keeping her leathery wings tucked in close to her for most of the time so that they would not suddenly fill with air and throw her entire bodice dangerously throughout the air.
Akaith was amused, for the most part, by the antics of her bonded. She flew with her, lingering by Mirage's great scaled chest. Their bond allowed them to fly in perfect synchrony, and even with the unpredictable weather, they did not falter. It was during this time that the alert was raised within Akaith, the little dragon recognised the caress of Fajira against her mind, and passed it on to her bonded almost immediately. "Hmm." The deep, grumbling tones of a dragon mused over the thoughts, before uttering through the bond to her beloved what they might do next. Go to them, assess the situation. Call me if you feel it necessary. With a warbling trill, Akaith acknowledged her bonded's request, and departing with a sense of deep fondness for her beloved, the comparatively little gold ventured towards the location Fajira leant to her.
The time had not yet come for Mirage to request Lace to engage in his new magic that was gifted to him by the lands of the Moon. Perhaps if she had, they would already know the cause for his unrest. Mirage reflected upon the time when she was leaving the Veins of the Gods, after the Moon Goddess had hinted to her second nature. She remembered the dreams her little dragon had had, images of a great golden dragon rising to the skies; she remembered Rishima's words as her sister simultaneously discovered her own new ability. It had been the most painful that first time, and slow, debilitating, leaving her crippled for many minutes afterwards. Then, she had discovered her new self, and taken to the skies, to join her winged bronze mate in the air. It had taken several hours for her to realise exactly what had happened, and it was Akaith who had aided her in this discovery.
It was wise of Fajira to want to help, to understand more about her bonded than he even knew about himself. It was the duty of the companion to be inquisitive, to know the one they were bonded to better than any other creature ever could. Akaith arrived by the little white's side, flitting between the naked branches of the canopy with the white, determining exactly what was going on. The dreams were a surprise, and yet, she figured that perhaps they should have expected as much. Mirage, who 'listened in' on the happenings, allowed a strong sense of amusement to swell within her draconic breast, before she made her way to land on the outskirts of the forest. It would take some time for her to weave her way to where they stood, but she did not transform, preferring to utilise the fire that burned within her against the chilly climate.
As she approached, Akaith landed by the silver grulla, peering at him with a tilted crown, wondering just what she could instruct the little white to do. They were so similar, Lace and Mirage, she wondered, and with Fajira, Lace would surely rise to greatness like her bonded had with herself. Using mostly that unique communication all companions possessed, Akaith spoke directly to Fajira, though it was not so much words that she spoke, but rather, images, feelings, emotions and mental demonstrations. She described how, on a few occasions, she herself had used the bond that bound them together to encase Mirage's very mind and soul within her own glittering, golden one. Such was the companion's nature to be aware of not only their own soul but especially their bonded's, but also others' if they concentrated enough. Akaith demonstrated this now, by focussing upon Fajira's own mindset, and playfully making the little white aware of just how much power she had.
You can protect him like this. She offered a memory of when her own dark shadow fell to grief against guilt after killing a stallion who was only going to take advantage of her if she had allowed him. But she hadn't allowed him to, she had slayed him, and still she had felt guilty for it. If not for the swift action of her dragon, nor the support of her friends, she hardly would have risen to lead to the Qian again. We will help him realise, but it must come from within. Search him, take him on a journey within himself, lead him there. Akaith further elaborated with some draconic amusement on the ignorant habits of their bondeds, reflecting with Fajira on how they were so similar and yet ultimately different in their manners and happenings. Quietly, amazingly so for one her size, Mirage arrived, and subtly draped a wing over the silver grulla she now stood beside. At least she could stop his shivering against the cold, and with any luck, she could be there for him as he realised just how incredible he really was.
[ Holy smokes. Nothing like some Rping with Lace to bring Mirage's rambly muse out! <3 ] | | |
Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
| Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE |
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Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath
Chan |
Returning side by side with Akaith, the little White felt somewhat pleased with herself as she landed in the tree above her bonded and listened to the the inner voice of her golden-queen-friend. It had been a wise decision to ask for aid, there hadn't been even an ounce of hesitation before the leaders had come to help as she asked for it. It was befitting of one in command to listen to those beneath, as it was fitting for the followers to support and aid the leaders when it was necessary. It was even better that the advice given was sound and useful. She warbled quietly, part thankful and part soothing as the gray stallion beneath began to stir, his instincts revealing the approach of others even as his mind was captured within the realm of dreams.
Doing as the golden companion had suggested, she slipped her own mind around that of the horse, before he had the chance to completely wake up, and gently brought it back further into the subconscious.
Change. Shifting, stirring, tendrils of moonlight and shadow dispersed and drifted off in the wind as the world began to revolve around itself. Brilliant stars fell from a velvet sky and grew as the fell, the light brightening as they began to swirl around him. The shadows dissipated, darkness pushed back, and chill was replaced by a gentle warmth. Like a mothers embrace, the sticky hand of a sister holding out her last piece of candy, the fragrant quiet of a lovers arms. Trust. Affection. Love? It enveloped him, soothed the distress and stilled the frenzy of the dream.
A sigh slipped from the maw of the silver-coated horse, and under the warm wing of the gentle dragon he relaxed, muscles loosening up just enough, so that he still remained standing. Beneath the closed eyelids his orbs were moving, straining to perceive the events that unfolded within the depths of his mind.
It was white. The landscape reminded him of a desert he had once crossed, while Fajira was little more than a hatchling and they just had left Isilme. It had been a dry place, a dryness that came of scorching heat and no perspiration for years on end. The kind of dryness that left only white sand and salt, as the sun beat down upon you from a sky so pale and dry that even the water of the atmosphere had disappeared.
He was standing on something, a vast plain of light that stretched on without end, to a horizon that he couldn't see but knew was there. Something separated the sky from the ground, the up from the down, but it was not for him to know what it was. It simply was, and it was good enough.
Before him a white fire danced from the tip of a small tree, barren and leafless, with silken bark. It burned steadily, a tall and bright flame that didn't consume the wood beneath, without moving or decreasing. Something compelled him to look at it, to search within the milky flame. At first he saw nothing, nothing but the brightness that seared the eyes, that burned away the shadows and darkness and threatened to even erase the soot of the markings upon his body.
Then, a flicker of movement caught his attention. He looked closer, focused on the image that began to grow, becoming clearer within the fire.
A vision of himself walking across a warm, dry plain where ash littered the ground, toward a pit where the very blood of the earth came into view. A figure waiting, clad in golden flames and light, soon to be joined by brother earth and sister moon. The details of the conversation were muffled, unimportant. More clear was the sight of a ball of fire hurling towards him, the sight and sound of it burning away the skin on his back. It looked so much worse than it had felt, and a sense of nausea at the sight of the charring skin welled up from within, only to be burned away by the fire - almost disapprovingly. Then the fire ceased to burn and a purifying light stroke across the damaged area, returning it to a state of health and strength - healed, but altered. Clad in a golden cape, like a rich cloak blessed with questions. Why, being the biggest.
Why indeed.
But there was no time to ponder, because the scenery changed. This time he heard the vibrant sound of the Lady of the Moon declare her brother banished, reveal the start of a series of games. The stallion watched from above how he ran across all of Helovia, skillfully bringing himself to victory. The sight of the Moon Lady at the finish, dark and mysterious, a suggestion of a smile curving the riddled lips as she for a moment followed him with her eyes. Why?
Again, change. A vision of Mirage, as they talked and frolicked across a meadow beneath a harvest moon, kissed by its haunting light. The knowledge that he could follow, charge for the land of the Moon, that change might come if he did.
Change. A stallion walking by his side across a dry meadow, speaking of war and family. A decision being made.
The scenes changed quickly now.
Invasion. Armies lined up before one another. Chaos ensued, blood spilled, the tides turning to one side then the other. When the dust scattered they stood victorious, the family called Qian. And something did change. A gentle caress, a cloak being draped over his dusty shoulders, a weight landing upon the back. Even now he could feel it, a whisper of something different that pressed against his consciousness. A tickling sensation, returning the memory of glittering tendrils that enveloped him, urged him to act. The dreams were laid out before him, patiently as one might explain colors and shapes to a child. Dreams of the forest growing around him, branches reaching out to touch his skin. Darkness taking shape, solidified by light and cooled by silken waters.
Slowly, steadily, realization began to dawn on him. The gods, the war, the dreams. The change. The images in the fire died out, the bright place faded away around him and left him, to figure out the rest for his own.
Beneath the cold light of the stars the dragon stirred, shifting her wings and snorting tiredly. It had been more difficult that she'd thought, mainly because the thickness of her bonded forced her to make everything very, very clear and easy to understand. She shared her complaints with the other dragons, casually including Mirage as a sister of soul. For a while everything remained peaceful, quiet. Then Lace sighed and stirred, murmuring something unintelligible before the eyes fluttered open. Drowsy and still half asleep, it took him a moment to assess the situation. Eyes moved from the wing covering his back to the large dragoness by his side, up to the White on the branch and Akaith beside her.
"Good morning to you too" he murmured, halfway caught in the tangles of dreams still, and somewhat puzzled as to why almost all the dragons of the Edge stared at him while he slept. "This is unexpected.. But I wonder if Vikram would approve." A slightly wry grin slipped over his maw as he gave Mirage a glance from the side, teasing while trying to understand the situation.
[ooc: long ramble post. hope you have something to reply to..]
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♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden
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