the Rift


Winter Song

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#1

Cold.

In the midst of this blazing Tallsun, the idea of a chilly, refreshing breeze seemed impossible. And yet, the one that was coursing through the trees now went far beyond just chilly. It carried frost with it - a distinct, crisp scent that spoke of another season. In the brightness of the sunny afternoon, it could not be more out of place.

Ashamin.

The wind sighed the name as it danced through the forest - beckoning him towards the source.

Beneath the blood-red trees and by the crimson pool, it was snowing but only in a small area - no larger than five metres in diameter. In the centre of this perfect circle of Frostfall, where the snow accumulated, a figure was forming. Not quite equine, not quite cervid - the legs and neck were long and graceful and decidedly other-worldly as the snow began to shape it. With each passing moment, the snow continued to define the body. A dished, delicate head supporting ornate antlers that twined together. Every time it moved, snow would crumble off its body before reforming in the new position with the falling snow once more.

Come, Ashamin.

Its voice was the wind emanating from this small patch of winter, stretching out its frosty fingers to find the one it sought.

The creature waited, forming more completely as it did - its body completely made of snow that glittered in the dappled sunlight that shone through the trees…

That is, except for the eyes which burned like coals - lidless and unblinking as it watched the trees before it for movement.


Image Credits

for @Ashamin

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
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
#2
ashamin
lochan
&rakt

His companions were tired, but that day they would not rest. All three of the stags lifted their sleepy heads at the scent of winter and the call of the wind. Ashamin became suddenly and distinctly aware of the fact that he was no longer alone.

Standing took effort. His body still ached from recent spars, and the odd chill that came from deeper in the sunlit woods froze his very bones. Ashamin was used to cold far more severe than any found in Helovia, but there was something different about the wind that pulled on him that day. He found his limbs dragged forth as if by some other entity’s design, and in a half-hoped moment he thought of the Gods and the mystical forces that played a part in this world. Lochan and Rakt followed him with senses heightened and curiosity piqued, but neither could say that their bonded was right or wrong until the moment they all stepped into the circle of snow.

What gathered there was undeniably supernatural; it was a figure both beautiful and infinite, some strange shadow of something both cervid and equine that created itself with every fallen flake of snow. The Clovenheart blinked, glimmers of white catching on his long black lashes. When he breathed the cloud that formed before him was out of place but perfectly right all at the same time. Somehow, Ashamin hardly noticed the cold.

The eyes of the creature were dark and cold—not unlike his own. He saw in their stark contrast against the snow memories of temporary statues built in the Basin. In those memories, he found the comfort of playful innocence. But he was no longer innocent, he knew this. Even his companions were grown now, and they did not frolic in this strange circle of cold as they might have in the past. No, they all regarded the scene with quiet reverence. Whatever this creature was, it was to be respected.

"I heard a voice," Ashamin said, though the words felt strange as they moved across his lips. He was not certain he was really speaking, and perhaps he was not. Perhaps this was a dream, or merely a collection of thoughts. The aching of his body numbed, and when he breathed again he began to feel lightheaded. "Were you the one who called me?" The Clovenheart asked, despite knowing that surely this must be the case.

He was naked, and this fact alone was rare. All trinkets were left behind, all armor and weaponry was put away. Before this spirit of winter, Ashamin was entirely bare. "Nevermind," he breathed, not caring any more about the voice that had called him. Perhaps it was this creature’s, and he was truly loved. If it belonged to anything else, Ashamin would not leave to find out what. After so long in a cold that felt strange and lonesome, he would not turn away from the sort that numbed his heart into oblivion.

"You are beautiful," he said, his heart in a state that combined the agony of understanding one’s mortal lack of importance with the blessing of existing in a world alongside angels. The stallion believed in powers higher than himself that were still undiscovered, this much would always be true. He had not expected to see them before dying.

""
The Clovenheart
image credits


OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS THANK YOU @Mythical Request ;-;-;-;-;-;


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


Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#3

It wasn’t kept waiting, the snow continuing to gently accumulate in the short minutes that the Clovenheart took to arrive. It did not move nor did it blink, this manifestation of snow, but its gaze softened still at Ashamin’s approach, at his words. Before it could nod to affirm that yes, it had called him, he dismissed his own question. If something else had called, it seemed, it no longer mattered to the Clovenheart. His statement, his compliment, was what it finally responded to - agreeing wholeheartedly. “Yes, we are.”

That ethereal voice echoed around the winter scene, coming from all of the snowflakes that were falling and that had gathered. But despite their number, it was gentle. A whisper as all other outside noise was muffled by the Frostfall moment, there was no need to speak any louder.

For these short moments, everything outside of the Blood Falls - outside of this very small corner of this land - did not exist. They were isolated, these four creatures, from everything else but each other.

The temperature inside their bubble is cold but not frigid - without his adornments Ashamin and his companions should remain relatively comfortable. But, then, what did the creature know - it never existed in Tallsun except by magic, never got to feel the heat of the blazing sun and so it did not know how the vast difference between the rest of the world and this fragile moment was. At least, for now, none of their bodies were going into shock.

“We’re glad you came, Ashamin.”

Finally, the creature confirms that this was the source of  the voice that called to him. Those burning black eyes focus on him, gaze never shifting and never failing.

“Do you miss the north? Do you miss the Basin?”

Image Credits

just tagging you cause it's been a while @Ashamin

Ashamin the Clovenheart Posts: 426
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
#4
ashamin
lochan
&rakt

The plurality of the being's existence did not escape the Clovenheart. From the moment the creation said "we," he knew that he was dealing with not one thing but many things, and as the air around him settled at a temperature so suited to his habits that it was almost impossible to sense, Ashamin suspected that before him stood the entire collection of Frostfall's being. The snow collected on and around him. The peace that had existed for so long outside of the stag, just beyond his reach, seemed to move itself into his breast. Even his companions were silent, choosing to keep their commentary to themselves.

They were glad that he had come. His heart shivered; he wanted to reach out with his magic, to touch whatever heart this being may have had, but somehow that felt heinous. No, this was a beast of purity. To seek its lifesource, whether it had one or not, was no better than to pry secrets of innocence from the mouth of a child.

"So am I," was all he said, though once more he didn't know if he'd said it or not. He did not have long, intricate speeches for the Frostfall before him. He only had awe.

When they asked him if he missed the Basin it almost hurt him. If not for the numbing of the temporary radius of a world around him, Ashamin might have fallen. But it was strange how much the mere question was able to cause him pain, for it did. He swallowed the pill of his failure, the reminder that he had left behind a herd that loved him, and breathed deeply before answering.

"Yes."

His voice quivered when he spoke, and his tail snaked nervously. It left a small trail in the snow.

"With all my being."

And he wondered then, as he stood before magnificence that surely knew best, that chose to remind him of the past rather than the future he struggled so much to build, if he should ever have left at all.

""
The Clovenheart
image credits


@Mythical Request


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


Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#5

The creature hadn’t meant to cause him pain, truly, and it watched the play of emotions with sympathy it could not express. It was difficult to show any emotion for the being, when it crumbled and reformed with movement and had glacial features and coals for eyes. But its snow-formed head nodded, almost entirely falling apart as it did so but quickly reforming with new snow and that multitude of voices responded softly - each syllable a caress of wind and falling snow. “We think that is good.”

It appreciated Ashamin’s honesty and while it were not glad for the pain, it knew it was better to feel it. How terrible it would have been, if leaving herd and home had meant little after so long! “It is better for it to mean so much to you, than nothing at all, is it not? Otherwise it would not have been brave for you to leave. Otherwise what you are building now would mean less.” Despite the chill in the air, the words were kind - almost even warm, though the creature would not appreciate a heat-related description.

With a tilt of its head, a gust of wind blew into their Frostfall scene - the flakes carrying with them something that should look very familiar and laying it at the painted stallion’s hooves.

It was Ashamin’s sarong, stolen (borrowed) from the pile of items he had left behind and offered to him now as though it was a gift. Visually, the cloth had not changed but when he wore it Ashamin would discover that it was no longer the simple piece it had once been. “We hope this will help keep the chill from your body and your heart.” The voices offered as the wind settled. The snow was falling sparser now, the enchantment of the moment coming to its end around them. “Learn from the past, Ashamin, but do not mourn it.”

Image Credits


@Ashamin
Congratulations! Ashamin has received the following enchantments for his sarong:
Item enchantment:: Silk Sarong :: When wrapped, pouch created by sarong is "bottomless" and can hold any size/amount of items.
Item enchantment:: Silk Sarong :: When blanketed, the wearer is always kept warm.


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