| Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Noella |
![[Image: kiirha1_by_littlewillow_art-d9sng8h_zpszhllmi1m.png]](http://i1155.photobucket.com/albums/p548/trauma-queen/Mobile%20Uploads/kiirha1_by_littlewillow_art-d9sng8h_zpszhllmi1m.png)
Ki'irha
but in dreams I can hear your name, & in dreams we will meet again
I am awake. At least, I think I am. It is hard to be sure, because I have never seen anything so beautiful.
I stand upon a snow covered field, scarce grasses reaching through the white to caress my legs as I cross over. Above me is the most incredible night sky I have ever laid my eyes upon. It rivals any beauty I have ever been witness to. Deep inky blues and blacks stretch from horizon to horizon, and the stars that imprint the sky are more numerous than the number of souls who have walked this world before me. An arm of a galaxy reaches above me, twinkling into oblivion. It is a moonless night, but the light from the stars is enough to illuminate my path.
I stand still for a moment. I have never known peace like this, nor have I ever felt more tranquil. A calmness has washed over me, and though normally I would be unsettled by the calmness, instead I am relieved. Maybe I have been washed from my sins, and this is what atonement feels like. I cannot condemn the sanctuary I have found in this place. Nothing has ever been more perfect.
A comet streaks overhead, and suddenly a harsh wind blows. The comet disappears as suddenly as it had come, but the wind remains. It stings, and forces my eyes shut. It takes everything to plant my hooves and stay in my place, and any relaxing of my muscles may allow the wind to topple me over. Harder and harder it blows, ripping with icy claws at every nerve that runs through my body, making me want to scream out. But I can't scream, because as soon as I open my mouth, the wind steals the voice from my throat.
Suddenly, it is over. Silence washes over the scape, and though I am afraid to open my eyes, it seems as though peace has fallen over this place again. Is it truth? Is it an illusion? I can no longer tell. Perhaps I am asleep, captured in a dream as vivid as any day I have lived.
Slowly I open my eyes, blinking away the changes in my vision from the force of my shut lids. Once my vision is no longer obscured, I look around. I stand upon ice that looks like glass, its perfect mirror sheen reflecting the heavens. It is as though I am standing on an imaginary plane in the sky, and I am now reattached to the piece of fabric I was cut from. Yet, something is different. The feeling is nagging in my head, telling me something is out of place. Something isn't right. I turn my head, looking behind me, and I notice what is so terribly, inexplicably wrong.
I am swollen with foal. My sides are great curves, larger than any pregnant mare I had ever seen. My back struggles to stay straight as I carry the weight, and I don't know how this happened. Well, certainly I know how foals are made. But not like this. I am so suddenly and largely pregnant. How can that be?
This isn't what I wanted.
Another meteor splits the heavens, drawing my attention away from my devastating realization. It is larger than the last, and I feel as though if I reached high enough, my nose would feel its dusty tail. However, this one does not disappear as the last one does. Far off it impacts the ice, and the force of the hit causes the surface to heave and moan a mighty and eerie cry. The fissure shoots towards me and as I move to escape it, my body betrays me. I am slow and fat, and my legs won't carry me. I feel like I am wading through a pond, and no matter how forcefully I try to move, I can't. The ice splits and the cavernous opening swallows me whole.
I plunge into the freezing waters, my legs flailing as I desperately try to right myself and get my head above water. I kick and claw and try, but I cannot carry this weight. I can't bring myself back to the surface. Still I try and fight, trying to convince the reaper that this day he is wrong. It is not my time. I will not die this day.
Above me, through the crack, a piece of the night sky still shows. The moon now rests above me, and in her wonderful glow, I see she smiles. Whether it is because she awaits my arrival at her gates, or because she is pleased to see my demise, I simply cannot tell.
____________
The cobalt girl woke in a cold sweat. Her breaths came ragged, ears turned and pressed flat into her damp mane. Blue hide quivered as she came back to the living world, though all around her were probably asleep. Around her Birdsong whispered its evening song, calm and genuine. She closed her eyes, slowing her breathing, reminding herself, as a mother does her foal, that it was only a dream. Nothing more, nothing less.
She pulled herself off of the ground, shaking away any remnants of sleep and nightmares that still cling to her. Hooves clattered on the stone floor as she walked to the mouth of her cave. She stood quietly, basking in a ray of moonlight. A sigh slipped from her lips as she tried to calm her nerves. Turning her head, her silver gaze landed upon her side. Her flanks had grown ever so slightly, and between her slow weight gain around the curves of her hips as well as her other symptoms, she knew. It wouldn't be obvious to others, though some may develop their suspicions in the coming days to weeks, but for now she harbored her secret safely. Despite her knowing on how these things happen, she still hoped perhaps that one time would have allowed her to escape unscathed. Her fears rested on so many things. She would be caring for this child alone, as she had no idea where Mesec was, and the chances of running into him again were slim. And he had wings. What if her child had wings? What if they were wore no crowns? What if she was exiled from the Basin for bearing a pegasus?
She shook her head. It was ridiculous to worry about such nonsense. Besides, what had happened was final, and there was no changing that now. She descended from her cave, cloven toes taking care to avoid any loose stones. She was taking more care recently, knowing that her body was now haven to something bigger than her. She wondered how her mother had been during her three pregnancies. The blue girl yearned for her mother, and more so now than ever wished she was still alive a close by to help her through this new stage of her life. Maybe she would seek out a healer, receive advice on herbs and remedies to help her changing body, and rid her of the nausea that came when the sun reached its highest peak in the sky.
She walked aimlessly through the trees, her mind wandering carelessly in its musings. She stopped when she came upon the shore of the lake, looking over the melting ice, taking in the way that the rising moon admired her own reflection in the open pools. Silver eyes looked up at the swollen shape, knowing soon she would bear a similar resemblance. Beside the moon twinkled a vivid star, and again, she sighed.
"I miss you, mother. Just give me a sign." A light breeze ruffled the curls of her mane, but it wasn't enough. Tears threatened to spring to her eyes, and quieter still she murmured, voice only loud enough for someone close by to hear. "More now than ever, I wish to not be alone."
The breeze continued to play with her mane.
________________
Ki'irha speaks
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Image Credits
Original Coding by Tamme
![[Image: 5581b91112f69]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/5581b91112f69)
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo
Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.
| Outcast atk: 8 | def: 11.5 | dam: 5.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 15.2 HH :: 5 [Frostfall] HP: 79 | Buff: NUMB |
|
Lochan :: Plain Cerndyr :: Dark Mist
& Rakt :: Common Cerndyr :: Starpast
Jen |
04-23-2016, 10:24 AM
(This post was last modified: 04-23-2016, 03:10 PM by Ashamin.
Edit Reason: tense
)
THE HARUSPEX
on his own
Alone? No, she never would be. But maybe Ashamin was. Ashamin the haruspex with his cerndyr safe at home, safe from this mess of his life. Who was he but a killer now? Some sort of evil beast?
Every morning he shook with the pain of remembering all that had happened. He bore no scars, for magic he hadn't yet noticed had taken care of that. But he would never forget. He could never forget. The sound of a heartbeat, so perfect and pure, dying.
It would have to be his first, wouldn't it? Didn't he need that? Could you really live life in a world as harsh as this without ending someone else's?
And Ashamin truly believed that he had done exactly that. Maybe not born but still there, still alive, still ready to breathe. That child, her child, would have been beautiful. Maybe as callous and wicked as she but still so beautiful. And he had ended that beauty, taken it from this world before it could be brought into it.
There truly was no greater sin. Ashamin the painted buck, Ashamin the haruspex, Ashamin the God-damned clovenheart. Whatever he was he was certainly broken. In this dark world of snow and sky, where the aurora snaked like a living being but somewhere a foal was born dead with his rage, Ashamin wasn't sure he could be fixed.
Seeing Ki'irha, alone at the entrance to the cave where she lived (why was he there? Had he meant to find her, how long had he been wandering?) did not help matters.
She was beautiful, of course, because she always was. Ashamin loved her for that but not as much as he loved her for her bravery, her passion--the very soul of her being. And who had he been to limit that love? Maybe a fool at the time but now he had proven himself wise. She wouldn't know, of course, but he had spared her the love of a murderer.
It did not occur to Ashamin that, had he given the starlit mare his love when she'd offered him hers, he might not have been fighting the Mountain That Knows at all.
Mriga, strapped to his side like an old worn out medal despite gracing his jaws only a few indelicate times, burned. The dagger was ancient. The dagger was pain. The dagger was Ki'irha's kindness when he did not deserve it. But he was selfish, he was in pain. He kept it close to him because now more than ever, now that he was so far from being the sort of man Ki'irha deserved, he wanted her to love him again.
"KI'IRHA!"
He comes into his being like something clawing out of a grave. He is desperate, and runs towards her silhouette in the night. Where was he before? He is un-grounded, he can hardly feel his hooves in the snow, his own weight crunching the ground beneath him. He is lacking all foundation. Is it his tail that flies behind him or his sarong? Is that left behind or is it what weighs him down now? Or his necklace? Or his armor? When had he become such a collector of useless things (all left in his cave save for Mriga) when all he had ever wanted was love?
"I'M SORRY!"
He was crying. Had he ever done that before? Ashamin's eyes were so wet that he couldn't see, or maybe that was the dark and the lack of his companions set of eyes to guide him. Their inkblot maps were gone, he was alone with the untamed monster of his love.
The clovenheart twisted his neck, bent his face to brush against the soft strap Johnny crafted. His lips fluttered, his teeth snapped, and Mriga sprung forth from its sheath. In the moonlight the etchings in the blue were blinding; Ashamin could not see beyond them.
Not far from her now, he threw Mriga to the snow. His body followed, falling into a state of nonexistence, of sorrow. Ki'irha wasn't alone, but he couldn't comfort her now. Ashamin was the broken one tonight.
"I'm sorry."
""
Wow so this is what muse feels like cool I can get used to this
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
| Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6 |
| Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE |
| Noella |
Ki'irha
but in dreams I can hear your name, & in dreams we will meet again
Her head dipped, but whether due to the somber realization the stars weren't going to answer her prayers, or because her solitude had been broken, she did not know. Blinking away tears, her head turned towards the newcomer, and at first she believed what she saw was simply moonlight playing against the misty film that blurred her vision. But the closer the stag came, the more she realized it was actually him.
Him, who she had met for the first time beneath the midnight sky to intercept a newcomer. Him, who had been the first to greet her when she returned to Helovia after slipping away to seek out her lost family. Him, who had become her motivation, her safe place, her heartbreaker, her ghost. He had become a part of her past that she would never be able to shake. She wasn't sure if she was happy that this moment had finally come, but knew that at their eventual meeting, light would be shed upon the murk that had filled the space between them.
"Ashamin," she murmured, voice barely loud enough to make it to the stallion's ears. He was always the one she wanted to see, but after everything had happened, what was she to expect? How much had changed? Her quiet greeting paled in comparison to the way he called to her, and she guarded herself, allowing her muscles to tense as if protecting the small sparkle that was growing in her stomach, and even more so, she allowed the thorns to grow upon the walls she had rebuilt around her damaged heart. Their relationship had become so strained since she had shared herself with him, when she had foolishly allowed herself to love freely, to expect to receive a piece of a heart that she didn't even know.
The man who appeared before her, unsteady, who fell at her hooves in a broken heap, who cried her name as if in grief, was something entirely different than who she had always seen him as. It was raw pain that poured from him, and despite how easily he was able to shed his earthly belongings, it was impossible to so easily shed the emotion he was saddled with.
His apology stung, and she didn't understand. When they last stood together within the sweeping valley, covered in each other's blood after fighting against and for everything they didn't know they wanted, everything they were unsure they even needed -- (Had he ever needed her? Had he ever wanted her like she craved him?) -- they were so vulnerable. He had cast her away, he had denied her, and she had allowed her heart to break for him.
For a moment, she stood dumbly as he wept. Was his outpouring really the product of their distance? For someone who had so easily told her 'no,' and who walked away and bore a son from another mare, who had slipped so easily through her fingers, he certainly seemed broken by it. "Ashamin," she repeated, her words soft and easy, as she reached down to brush her soft nose against his neck. As a woman who had always relied on her wit and mind to rule her decisions, he always managed to convincer her wordlessly to follow the encouragement of her heart. Slowly she lowered herself beside him, but despite the way she laid herself down, she still remained sturdy. She was a rock to keep him above water, a safe harbor during the danger of a stormy night. She was hesitant, knowing the last time she reached for him, he pulled away.
What had brought him to her? Did he seek her? Or did she happen to be the first one who's path he crossed? As her heart fluttered nervously in her chest, something urged her to repeat her mistake. The past didn't matter in this moment. He needed something, and she couldn't leave him like he had left her. She reached for him, allowing her neck to drape over him, and she pressed her cheek into the softness of his fur. "You have nothing to apologize for," she murmured. The star girl did not know the weight of his burden. She did not know how he was tricked by a cunning woman to cull her mistake. She did not know that he thought the title 'murderer' was a scarlet symbol he needed to wear upon his shoulder. Even for what she thought he was apologizing for, his honesty in the face of her offered love, was not something to feel remorse for. Her anger towards him after their fight, the lingering suffering she forced upon herself, was not of his doing. It was the bitter feeling of hurt pride, of allowing weakness to chip her armor. "I didn't mean what I said to you. I'm sorry I made you feel this way. I let my feelings get the better of me, and I don't expect you to return a single single sentiment I hold."
She rubbed the top of her velvet-lined muzzle against the nape of his neck. "There, there," she murmured as she caressed him, unsure how to fix the anguish that radiated from him. "Tell me what's wrong. Tell me what you need." She tried to not honk about the last time she held him like this. She had tried so earnestly to forget the way he scrambled away from her touch as if her skin seeped poison, as if she were an excruciating kryptonite to his very being. The girl pulled her face away from him, and concern settled over her expression. "I'm sorry if you don't want me here. I don't want to hurt you more than I already have. Please, tell me if I'm making this worse."
The midnight girl lay silently for a moment, wondering if history would repeat itself as it so often does, or maybe something less damaging would occur to take away their pain.
________________
Ki'irha speaks
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Image Credits
Original Coding by Tamme
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo
Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
![[Image: kiirha1_by_littlewillow_art-d9sng8h_zpszhllmi1m.png]](http://s1155.photobucket.com/user/trauma-queen/media/Mobile%20Uploads/kiirha1_by_littlewillow_art-d9sng8h_zpszhllmi1m.png.html)
