the Rift


[OPEN] Opening doors [DT Gate Crafting Trade]

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
#1
He stood at the Southeastern-most border of the Edge, massive shoulders hunched in thought as navy eyes swept up and down the glass-littered border. He would be glad to see the day when the glass shards were replaced with great, glass spikes. But for now… for now he would meet with the slender, gold-touched crafter from the hot sands of the south. The Dragon’s Throat Forger would build them a gate, made of iron, to stand as a promise of the spike’s protection to come.

So the Elephant King swung his head towards the man, ears perked and head tilted as he awaited the man to work with the Sun God’s gift. He wondered, briefly, what it was like, crafting with another god’s power. The Moon’s had been overwhelmingly powerful— but too cold and dark for the King’s demons. He had been trapped in the power, once, when he had pushed himself too deep into the mists’ hold…

He shook his, clearing his mind from the day when he had tried to erect the spikes all on his lonesome. How much he had learned, and how far the Edge had come, from that day. Instead, he focused on Cera’s pale wings and his bright emerald eyes. “The gate will go just here,” his massive horn motioned to the space before him. “Is there anything I can do to help you?” His low rumble questioned the Golden Prince. As crafter, he had needed little but time, space, and quiet company. But perhaps this beautiful, slender man was different. Whatever the case, the King was happy to oblige him with whatever he needed.
Tembovu
the elephant king

image | coding


@Cera for the WE/DT trade of crafting the gate!

Please tag Tembovu.

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#2



The mist curls and cajoles at his ankles, a serpentine reminder of cold smiles and glittering violet skin. There is little warmth here, between the trees. Towering above him, keeping him grounded, impossible to maneuver within. He can see the beauty that attracts so many to the misted lands, the glittering remains of glass and the way the fog sparkles when the sun streams through the evergreens. But he longs for the heat of the desert, the familiarity of sand and surf and clay. Still, he is endlessly proud of being the one to help orchestrate and carry out this venture. This string that ties two herds together, stretching miles and thrumming with activity. That he is here alone, entrusted with this, settles a stone at the bottom of his heart that has always spoken of uselessness and worthlessness. 

The King is a towering giant, a frame of power and might. He dwarfs Cera, who is lean of body and far too feminine for his own wavering, fanboy heart. Tembovu is regal where Cera still cannot seem to claim adulthood for his own, put together where Cera stands in solitude, quietly deteriorating beneath the weight of loneliness. But he is the Golden Prince for a reason, and his heart holds no jealousy or envy. He glows beneath the trust the King puts in him, the willingness to aid and accompany. He sees the best in those around him, and he knows the blackness of demons too well to ever spare an individual empathy. It will be his downfall, but he does not mind that. 

"Thank you," he says sincerely, a smile pulling at pale lips. His emeralds fall upon the area pointed out to him, ambling forward on long, thin limbs to peruse the area before them. Tentatively he lets his magic probe the earth, delighted at the rich soil and thick deposits of metal that lay beneath. The desert is not always the best environment for certain types of metal, and he'd suspected there would be more than enough material for his needs when he'd arrived in the Edge. Cera barely hears Tembovu's quiet rumbling voice tickling at his ears, too busy pulling the metal to the surface where it gleams dully, awaiting his shaping. Verdant orbs turn to gaze up at the gentle - or as he has shown himself to be so far - giant, regards him quietly for a few moments. 

"I wouldn't mind the company, if you've no other tasks to see to," Cera smiled, fully aware of the duties a leader always had to fulfill. Idly pushing the metal into three groups, he ducked his head to allow Tembovu the privacy to react and answer his request as he desired, without feeling pressured to remain for the sake of sparing the feelings of an ambassador of another herd. He had worked alone before, it would be no hardship to do so again. As he began to twist and meld the metal into the two initial spires on each end of the gate, Cera flicked his eyes beneath pale lashes towards the hulking form at his side. 

"Tembovu? If I may call you that," Cera spoke simply, meaning no insult for improper use of titles. "May I ask you a question?" Vibrant spectacles blinked at the Elephant King for only a moment more, before turning back to the task at hand, watching the metal shape and smooth itself out into elegant, sturdy spirals. He may need Tembovu's help inserting parts of the metal further into the ground, after all. 


My heart still beats, and my skin still feels
I am Ceraaaa
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
#3
There was an open, honest, candid, goodness about the Forger from the Throat. It glowed from the simple way he sincerely thanked the King. It billowed out from the quiet smile and ducking of head to allow him to consider and honestly answer the request for company. And, with a quiet and lopsided grin, the King opted to stay and watch the slender man pull metal from the very earth. “I’ll stay with you, Cera. I’ve not seen a Forger work, before,” his deep voice offers an explanation for how closely he watched the gold-spattered stallion.

It was intriguing, to see a man as quiet and graceful as Cera, pull hulking raw metal from the soil. The King did not even know that such raw materials abounded beneath the Edge— would they ever be able to harvest it as the Sun God allowed his Forgers to? But such (dangerously ambitious) thoughts were dashed as brilliantly emerald eyes peeked at him from beneath pale lashes.

His lopsided grin grew to a full-fledged, easy smile, “Please, do call me Tembovu. And, with the generosity you are showing the Edge by crafting this gate, I think you may ask me multiple questions,” amusement lightened his dark navy eyes as mirth lines crinkled the black skin around them. He was curious, however, as to what question the gilded Forger had for him. He didn’t know the man well, at all, and was interested to know what sort of question he would ask a King. After all, the types of questions asked often tell as much as the answers, themselves. Ears perked, face amused, and head slightly cocked, the Elephant King waited.
Tembovu
the elephant king

image | coding

Please tag Tembovu.

Cera the Golden Prince Posts: 419
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 9.5 | dam: 4.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 16.3hh :: 6 Years HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Ilaria :: Red Panda :: Heal Brit
#4



These lands, these people, will never be a possibility for Cera. Tembovu's kindness and intriguing nature, however, was as strong as the temptation of the forbidden fruit. Cera's heart was as gold as the sands of his home, as gold as the title others knew him as. These dark misted woods stood counterpoint to his faith and his family. But nonetheless he found himself desperately curious, some beaten and minuscule part of Cera's soul wondering sinfully what life would be like if he simply...left. Traveled. Explored more than the lands he was assigned on patrol, the endless canyons and rolling hills of sand and clay that he had memorized from birth. If kind creatures like Tembovu existed in Helovia, Cera wanted to meet them. But they felt so separate from him, as if the ocean that surrounded the Throat had cut him off entirely from the rest of the world. 

But it was a blasphemous line of thought. Cera shook his head subtly and tried to be positive, to ignore the temptation aching in his loyal soul. Nothing would change even if he did leave. A forger would replace him. The few who knew him would forget him. The herd he ran to would have a different material to craft, and his life would continue on as always. There was no point wondering or wanting. His place was in the Throat, with the sun and metal. He wondered whether Tembovu had similar curiosities, if that was why he happily remained to watch Cera shape raw metal into a gate. 

"Were you a crafter yourself?" Bright eyes eagerly dart to Tembovu, an inkling of prior knowledge rubbing off from the King's words. So few seemed to appreciate his craft, these days. Even he had lost some of the spark, the beauty of creation that had ensnared him since birth. So much possibility lay before him, and yet so few ever deigned to help him. It ended up taking seasons to even complete a project, singlehandedly as he often did. 

Tembovu's kindness helps redirect his focus. The poles are submerged in the earth, massive things with sturdy hinges. The weaving of the gate between the poles is all that's left, and Cera smiles beatifically at Tembovu's rumbling voice as he begins to bring the center to life. 

"You shouldn't give me such liberties," Cera laughs freely, bold in his joy. Life is too dark not to embrace the little pleasures, and Cera was as sincere in his emotions as in any other facet of life. The metal attached itself to the hinges, and Cera began adding layers and smoothing them together to make the gate thicker and sturdier. 

Suddenly nervous he glanced at Tembovu from the side of his eyes, a hundred questions restless on his tongue. But which to ask first?

"I mean no offense with my question, of course, but..." he shifts around and focuses back on the gate, trying to word it in a way the King wouldn't take as a threat. "Surely you were not born a King. How did you know then, when the time came, that it was time to evolve? To move forward?" Evergreen eyes finally slide back to Tembovu as he idly begins making designs in the metal, lest their conversation end too quickly with the gate essentially complete. 

"How do you differentiate between what your head says, and what your heart desires?" Realizing he is probably coming on far too strong, Cera sighs and turns back to the completed project before him. He doesn't want to leave just yet, doesn't want to abandon all the questions he could ask Tembovu, but gates are simplistic. There is only so much stalling he can do. 

"I've seen so many kings and queens. Good and bad, humble and arrogant...I've watched them ascend and descend like the sun and moon. How do they know? Do they feel inside, the signal that it is time to become something better than what they are?" Grim, he stares at the gate and tries not to see the gold of his father. Midas, the one who had risen from a humble soldier to Sultan of the Throat, and then to Czar of the Falls. Was Cera the only one throwing away his desires for the sake of his herd? Remaining stagnant in his loyalty? Was it perhaps time to be selfish?

With a short laugh Cera shook his head, suddenly embarrassed, and turned a warm smile towards the King. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally so maudlin or intrusive. Crafting always makes me think, and I generally do not have company that could be annoyed by the babbling." Yeah, try and apologize after making the King supremely uncomfortable Cera. Where had his diplomacy and tact disappeared to? Gods, Gaucho was going to kill him. 

Cera blinked at the gate where his mindless designing had apparently taken real shape. The phases of the moon sprang from the smooth surface of the metal in a circular fashion. They were rather large, and Cera stared, a little surprised that he'd managed something so pretty with only half his attention. Smiling in delight, Cera searched the earth for a specific type of metal, an image budding in his mind. Chromium came to him willingly, and he stepped forward to pay closer attentions to the details of the craters and crevices. 

He coated each in a thin layer before finally stepping back. Where the moons protruded, the metal was a beautiful silver that would gleam beneath any natural light. It attracted the eye, the pale moons contrasting with the dark iron of the gate. Turning to Tembovu sheepishly Cera grinned. 

"I hope you like it, I didn't have anything official planned. Details are my favorite." A shy smile broke out on Cera's face, tremulous with nerves. This was the King of the Edge. Cera had never shown anyone aside from Maren the level of detail he could achieve, and now it would be put under scrutiny by a neighboring herd. Nice going Cera. 


My heart still beats, and my skin still feels
I am Ceraaaa

Gate completed Birdsong Year Seven. Dark iron single door with arched top and two posts. Moon cycle design plated in chromium on the front like this.
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Tembovu the Elephant Posts: 805
World's Edge Captain atk: 7 | def: 9.0 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 18hh :: 10 HP: 77 | Buff: SWIFT
Mbwene :: African Elephant :: Ashen smitty
#5
“Were you a crafter, yourself?” The eager question was accompanied by a brief glance of beautifully emerald eyes, before the Prince’s bright gaze returned back to his craft. And the King was surprised by the question—how had he known? Pale, black-rimmed ears swept forward, navy gaze entirely leaving the erection of metal from the earth to closely study the man’s gilded, painted face. They flicker to the time-worn scar on the crest of his neck, and briefly his own curiosity is aroused—but he had to answer the question posed to him before asking any.

“I was,” his deep rumbled in a simple answer at first, pausing to think before continuing, “Before coming to Helovia, I destroyed more things than I created. But when I came here, and found a home in the Edge… I wanted to build, so I became a Glazier of glass, before becoming King.” He wasn’t sure why he so fully and deeply answered the Forger’s question. Perhaps it was the guileless gaze or darting, bright glances. Perhaps it was the silence that he felt he should fill while Cera worked. Either way, he fell quiet at Golden Prince’s free laugh, his own thick lips curving upward in a wry, lopsided grin.

His dark blue eyes traveled to the metal as it hinges, slowly forming the shape of a gate. Though his ears remained trained on the man as he asks about regency and leadership; about ascending to Kingship and desires of the heart.

The smallest of frowns, partly thoughtful and partly uncertain, crease the black skin that masked his face. And his silence stretched until the elegant man gave a short laugh followed quickly by an apology— seemingly releasing the Elephant from even answering the question.

But the King did, after a moment longer of thought. “There’s no need for an apology, Cera. Like I said before, I was born far from being a King. And my actions up until joining the Edge were anything but regal,” he sighed quietly, “I have never ‘desired’ to be king, so perhaps I am not the right one to ask these questions. But, I will tell you, from what I have learned thus far in life, is that it is neither following omens nor chasing desires that creates the most honorable of rulers. There is a difference between needing power to achieve great things, and achieving power by doing great things,” he paused, thinking, before continuing, “But for me, I became a King because one was needed.” And, to avoid delving into a daughter’s death and blood stained sands, he ended his answer to Cera’s deep questions.

In the course of his soliloquy, the Forger had finished his work, erecting proudly black iron spires while adorning it with brightly gleaming moons. Sweeping strides approached the large gate, muzzle outstretched to touch the metal that was still warm from being worked by magic. “It’s beautiful,” his grin was genuine as he turned his head to see Cera’s shy smile, “You’ve done the Edge a great service, and I am certain the Throat would be proud of your work.”
Tembovu
the elephant king

image | coding


@Cera Thank you! <3 We can end it here :D

Please tag Tembovu.


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