the Rift


[PRIVATE] Bloodstream

Erthë Posts: 440
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 8.5 | dam: 5.5
Filly :: Hybrid :: 14,2 hh :: 3 years HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Chan
#1

Erthë yawned. It was late in the afternoon and the shadows had begun to lengthen. This caused no notable change in the oppressive temperature, but right now she couldn't be bothered to employ her arcane gifts and take the edge off the clammy heat. She was too tired, her head swimming with the new information Alune had spent the past day cramming into her. Make no mistake, Erthë loved her teacher and appreciated the effort he put into her lessons, and she cherished the knowledge he bestowed upon her. But sometimes she would have loved to be anything other than the Seers apprentice, would have given anything to be free from studies and worries and able to melt peacefully in the shade beneath a Glow Wood tree.

Which she was going to do now. A long, refreshing soak in a stream, a bite to eat - maybe some of the apple trees growing by the northern border would be ripe enough for an early treat - and then she would do nothing at all for the rest of the evening.

As she picked her way towards her favorite watering hole, the filly - more mare than foal already, the spindly and frail aspects of her features shed in favor of a delicate, sinewy strength and supple curves - pondered the passing of time and seasons and their effect upon her. She had changed much in some ways, but very little in others. If truth were to be told, she still felt more the foal and not at all like someone who would come of age in less than a quarter of a years time. So much had happened in her earliest childhood that Erthë had thought herself old and hardened when she saw her first winter, but the more distance she put between herself and the horrors of the past, the more she realized how little she understood about any of it. The Rift war had shaped her and damaged her, but as her mind matured Erthë had to admit that it had done good things to her too. She knew her own worth, knew what she was capable of and what it was in this world that meant most to her. How many other youths her age could say as much? Her dreams were well defined, her path a well lit road littered with obstacles but clearly discernible...

Yet somehow, for some reason, Erthë still felt that something was lacking in her life. Was it the absence of her vagabonding father, or the thorn of sorrow and longing, the empty void left in the heart by the death of her mother? Perhaps the lack of a face to pair with her brothers name, the brother she had never seen and never known about until the day their mother died?

Wading out into the clear waters of the creek the pale girl heaved a sigh. It didn't really help to know that her troubles were minor compared to most others. It wouldn't make her gimpy leg hurt any less, nor would it bring her father back to her so she could yell at him. The sensation of cold liquid easing the burn in her throat and cooling her down from within was a small comfort, and with a prick of guilt - so common that she barely registered it anymore - the young mare reached into the fold of her wing and pulled out a small bundle of leaves from their hiding place. Bright crimson petals had faded to a crusty, matte hue that reminded her of dried blood, and as she chewed the narcotic herb its tangy flavor only reinforced that image. As always when she chewed the poppy Erthë remembered the kind healer who had taught her about its uses, lingered over the beloved features of his plump body and the sad, concerned look on his face as she told him about her growing addiction.

She missed him. Uncle Badger had been someone she could talk to about anything, someone who had known her when her family still was whole and her life a blissful dream. But like so much else in her life he had disappeared, stolen from her by frightening creatures with powerful magic, and nothing she had learned so far would suffice in bringing him back.

Swallowing thickly the girl plunged her lips into the trickling stream one more time, desperately trying to wash away the foul taste of guilt, shame and sadness from her tongue. It would be better soon, she told herself. As soon as the drug kicked in everything would be alright. Once she grew up properly she would know how to fix it, how to make everything better.

At least, that's what she wanted to believe.

ERTHË
It's too cold outside for angels to fly
Image Credits


@Kiuaji

~| Use of magic and violence is always permitted |~
~| Please only tag in opening posts |~


Forum Jump:


RPGfix Equi-venture