the Rift


[PRIVATE] Crossroads

Zahra Posts: 64
Outcast
Filly :: Pegasus :: 15hh :: 2 Years
Hanna :: Common Kitsune :: Fire & Ilham :: Bark Spider :: None Riven
#1
Zahra, Ilham, and Hanna
It was pride that turned angels into devils
Despite the fresh start they’d been given, the chance to be part of a family, Zahra could not shift the burden from her heart – the weight of the past from her mind. The nightmares, the constant reminder of loss and loneliness, the twisted visions which haunted every moment of sleep – the yearling grew ever wearier as the legacy of her parents lived on in her. There was no doubt that the girl missed them and craved (as any child should) the affection of true family, nurturing, but as the seasons turned she began to want more, to be more; without the shadow of past transgressions marring the future. There was ugliness in the nightmares which harried her existence, and the golden-bellied girl wanted truly no part in their grim story – at least not until she could comprehend the meaning.
 
Zahra wanted a life of her own.
 
As the pale grace of dawn fell down across the Basin, the sisters slipped quietly by the old rusty sentinels that stood on by the border. Yellow eyes passed a wary glance across the strange statues and the filly skirted generously around them, stride hastening only briefly; their peculiar presence was unnerving, no matter how ruined they seemed to be. A heavy sigh was purged from her lungs and it slipped from broad nostrils as pluming steam. It was not the first time they had explored the vast, snowy steppe in recent weeks and though still the chill in the air seemed to penetrate into the depths of her core, Zahra was learning to enjoy the openness (in comparison to the well-walled valley now called home); so too the curious ice structures just to the south where, unbeknownst to her, the bones of her own mother lay buried and bleached. Still, the adventure they now embarked on was not through the bitter north, and with the wintry wind urging them forward, they began the long trek towards the flaming heart of Helovia.
 

 
After nearly a week, with much time spent resting, they found themselves at last treading tentative steps upon the parched, red earth above the caves. Clay-dust rose in whirling flurries as hoof and paw grazed its baked, cracked surface, and the coloured faces of untouchable gemstones winked and glinted in the smoky-red sunlight. For a moment Zahra paused, stalled for the second time by the bright nag of uncertainty. The little kitsune beneath leaned snug against her foreleg and whimpered softly, tenderly, for the decision to be made had grown no lighter. “I…” the yearling choked, tears again glazing the fragility of her stare. “How could I even think about destroying them…” she whispered a small time later, scorning her brazen disrespect for those she would always love so much.
 
Quivering lips lowered to brush the ratty leather bag in disrepair, which had carried her mother’s favourite treasures for many years, and the clever spear beneath its frayed flap that must have served her father well in battle. There was too, the marvellously heavy collar which her puny shoulders had carried since she was merely months old; she had not the heart to bring it to glory, nor the strength to bear its full dress before foes. It would suit none better than her father – and that was the truth. Unhappily, Zahra let her knees buckle there before the dancing flames, despair contorting her young expression into something far fouler than ever it had been. “I don’t know what to do!” she sobbed desperately afterwards, as Ilham slipped from her cocoon and Hanna nestled down against the bony cradle of black and white; neither had power enough to rid their sister of pain, but each felt the sting of thought as the filly began to drown in the grim tides of her pitiful future.
image credits

@Zèklè
Permission given for all except death
Please only tag Zahra in openers and spars


Wishlist | The Spider-Silk Shoppe | Absences

Zèklè Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Colt :: Pegasus :: 14.1 :: Three HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
charks
#2
Z E R O
they say we are what we are, but we don't have to be

Zero spent a lot of his time in and around the Heart Caves. You might say he was an expert on them, deeply familiar with every nook and cranny, every drawing and drip which adorned the glowing walls. Zero loved rocks, appreciated them in a sort of friendly, intimate way. He loved the history of them, the way their sharp jagged ridges and smooth, soft lines told a myriad of stories. He would sit for hours and marvel at the carvings on the old cave walls, the stories they told of battles and gods. He liked the way rocks wore their hearts on their sleeves, but also sometimes also had hidden beauty inside, especially the ugliest ones.

"Just like me," he whispered to Squishy as they admired a geode, one that sparked with a particularly attractive blue agate (that, he noticed, matched the lightning of his wings). He raised the stone up carefully, placing it into the makeshift silver basket he'd constructed in one of the golem's more recent upgrades. It glittered among a handful of other metals and stones, a blue eye gazing back at the boy, a story in itself.

One day, he thought, his story would be written into stone. He'd just have to figure out what it was.

Eventually.

Zero rose out of the dim caves and into the sunlight, blinking and squinting as his eyes adjusted to the bright winter day. He yawned widely, stretched inelegantly, and shook violently, powerfully oblivious to the deeply troubled girl who lay so close by- though he thought he heard something, and that something gave him pause. Silver-orange gaze peered curiously into the grass, sooty ears attentive as he sought the source of the noise. But the grass was very tall, and Zero very short (and was that ever gonna change, or was it a foregone inevitability, much like his absent wing?); he could make nothing out but the quiet rustle of small mammals and a strong breeze. His lips twisted, a puzzled expression on his expressive face- but then he shrugged and shook his head, and that might have been it, had Squishy not decided to bump a rock and make a noise.

Zero turned back to investigate his golem, and as his gaze glazed across the ring of fire that made up the Heart... something made him pause. Maybe it was fate, the bite of deja vu that crept up into his throat making him concentrate harder than he normally would on the small speck of black and white, distorted by heat at the edge of the crater. Deeply curious, the lightning boy changed direction, brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to figure out what was so familiar about this scene. It was only when he saw the flicker of a kitsune's tail that realization struck him, and his bemused expression broke into a bright, enthusiastic smile. "Zahra!" he cried out, picking up speed to shorten the distance between them.

But there was something wrong, and the boy sped up, concern and affection driving him toward her. She was so much bigger than the last time he saw her but still so small, so broken- he had never known anyone as sad as her, and it filled him with a hollow ache, made him uncomfortable with his own jovial nature. He slowed down as he reached her, suddenly uncertain: they were older now, and things with girls had been... weird, of late. Had it been Själ lying there, or even Isopia, the lightning boy would not have known what to do. He would have hovered, awkward, as he was doing now, sunbeam eyes flickering between the pile of treasures and the little girl, a doubtful expression on his honest face.

Except that this wasn't Själ- this was Zahra, and the fierce protectiveness that bloomed within his chest was similar to what he might have felt, seeing Tae or Grusha cry (if they were even capable of crying. Sometimes he wasn't sure). He frowned, suddenly ready to take on the world for her, to beat up whoever had taken away her smile. Had something been stolen from her? Or maybe it was broken? He was good at fixing things. He could fix this.

(Though the thought wasn't as certain as it might once have been- Zero was slowly learning that there were some things he couldn't fix. But at least he could try.)

"Hi Zahra, hey Bird," he greeted softly. Still confused but more focused, now, the lightning boy stepped closer to his friend, nose outstretched to wipe affectionately at her tears. "It's gon' be OK". Slowly, inelegantly, Zero lowered himself to the girl's side, letting his wing drape across her shuddering back, letting his breath even out with the quick pace of hers. He spoke confidently, an encouraging smile stretched across his lips. "What's the matter? You wanna talk 'bout it?" he asked her earnestly: half hoping she'd say yes, and half praying she'd say no. He still wasn't sure he was totally equipped to help, and it would certainly be simpler if she just got happy right then and there- but Zero was committed now, and however how much effort it took, he was going to make her smile.

There was still a small white feather in his mane.



@Zahra

Zahra Posts: 64
Outcast
Filly :: Pegasus :: 15hh :: 2 Years
Hanna :: Common Kitsune :: Fire & Ilham :: Bark Spider :: None Riven
#3
Zahra, Ilham, and Hanna
It was pride that turned angels into devils
The snivelling yearling with the speckled golden belly paused at once and thick snow-white lashes fought vigorously to clear the pooling tears from raw, bloodshot eyes. Zahra’s sooty, dimpled chin lifted too from the soft warmth of the kitsune’s downy coat, drawn from the pits of despair by the uncannily familiar voice; so recognised in fact, that the throbbing heart within her chest nearly burst through prickling skin. The friend she felt so deeply for was striding towards her, smile fading it seemed into a widening void of uncertainty, and quickly she pushed a weary smile into her expression - anything to see the brightness restored to his wonderfully brave face. 
 
"Ze-ro!" she almost shrieked in a bid of fractured desperation; he was there already, greeting with the same gentle concern that had first dimmed her fears that night so long ago when she had waited for her mother beneath the old tree. Hanna was rising, four tails twirling, wagging chaotically in greeting, for he was perhaps the only other hoofed creature in this world she thought well of. Whimpering gleefully she bounced about his front-quarters, tongue scrambling to find the taste of his face as it wandered nearer to her weeping sister, but Zahra soon summoned her canine counterpart’s notice away.
 
The painted yearling took a deep breath as the colt’s small muzzle brushed across one sodden cheek, touching towards him in tender greeting with her own, as he lowered to lie against her outer wing. "I don’t know how it can be ok…” she started rather too quickly, tears rising like molten lava to sting her blinking eyes as they danced unhappily across her own curled knees beneath. Zero’s wing came to rest steadily across her childish frame, and so too did the sound of his encouragement across her wandering ears. "Yep,” she answered easily, free of adult inhibition and more than relieved to find herself again in his company.
 
For a second, she let her eyes scan the periphery – the hedge of tall grass surrounding – but she was sure they were alone.
 
“I miss Ma and Da…” Zahra began heavily, but it was truly more than that, so very much deeper than a child could express. “…I wish they were here – b’cause then I wouldn’t have to carry around his stuff (lips nibbled across the silver piece jutting awkwardly above her withers as the ground pressed against it) and all these feathers, all the time. If they were here too, maybe they would stop filling up my sleep with stories, scary ones, and everything would really be ok.”
 
The curve of her body slumped softly, further into his warm embrace and for a moment it seemed as though the smoke spiralling above were the cover of night coming to hide them once again. "Where’ve you been anyway?” She mumbled fondly thereafter, remembering the last time they had really spoken (before she had wandered with Camon) – when the stranger with the intimidating eye and the questioning tongue had witnessed the first perfect instance of her art. 
image credits

@Charks
Permission given for all except death
Please only tag Zahra in openers and spars


Wishlist | The Spider-Silk Shoppe | Absences

Zèklè Posts: 166
Outcast atk: 8.0 | def: 10 | dam: 3.5
Colt :: Pegasus :: 14.1 :: Three HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
charks
#4
Z E R O
they say we are what we are, but we don't have to be

Bird's enthusiastic greeting settled Zero's uncertainty considerably: certainly things couldn't be too bad if the kitsune was so excited, right? But even as he thought it the lightning boy knew he was wrong- that look, that sadness in his smaller friend's wide gaze, was definitely real. But at least Bird was glad to see him, which meant maybe Bird thought he could help, which meant maybe he could help, which was really all he wanted to do.

He tried to tell her it would be OK, but she was even quicker to say no. The boy's ears tipped back into his mane, miserable confusion filling him again. Why? Why did someone so sweet and nice and little have to be so sad? And what was he supposed to do about it? The boy searched his mind frantically, trying to think of what he would do- talk to Ma, probably. Even at his advanced* age, Zero was a firm subscriber of the belief that Ma's had answers to everything (except Da's- when it came to them, Ma just made everything way more complicated), but Zahra's Ma never seemed to be around.

And Zero had a sinking, terrible suspicion as to why, but it wasn't something he ever wanted to really think about, because the idea that Mas could ever not be around forever was, well... the worst.

I miss Ma and Da, and the boy did not know what to say, so he just pressed himself closer against her, the blue feathers of his wing holding tight to her body as he tried to ignore the fear her words rose within him. Luckily she continued on, turning her attention from the troubling thought of missing Mas. He followed her attention eagerly toward the impressive pile of stuff she seemed to always have, and the enormous silver collar hanging garishly from her neck. Truth be told the boy was very interested in the metal thing, his fascination with minerals being what it was. But even he knew not to ask questions about certain things, because he wasn't totally sure he wanted to know the answer.

Instead he looked at the feathers, and the other things, and frowned as she talked about nightmares and scary stories. That was not something Mas and Das and stuff were supposed to do, he was sure. He was beginning to wonder if he'd even like Zahra's parents. I mean, clearly there was something wrong with them, if they weren't even here. "Well why don'tcha leave all the stuff?" he demanded brashly, that same fierce protectiveness giving his voice an almost haughty tone.  "It's not like it's yours- you should be able to get your own stuff. An' I betchur Ma an' Da wouldn' want you to have scary dreams, an' they'd want you to hear good stories, an' they'd want you to go out an make your own stories, 'cus that's the whole point of growin' up." Again Zero thought of the wall of history, and how his own tale might look upon it one day. Bright, and brave, and adventurous, he imagined. Would Zahra's be one of only sadness and loss?

Not if he could help it.

Her next question brought a little bit of a smile to his face, and he let his head drop onto the ground, staring with bright eyes out into the fire. "Well..." the Lightning's son began, his voice teasing the beginning of a tale, "I've been lotsa places, doin' lotsa things... but I'm sure you don't wanna hear 'bout all that." He peered slyly at his friend, hoping that the promise of stories might draw her out of her sadness (a valiant effort for a boy so ill-versed in the world)- and by no means reluctant to share tales of his own exploits in the process.

Let it never be said that Zero was a humble boy. Well-meaning, always. But perhaps also a little bit vain.

*read: nearly two



@Zahra


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