the Rift


[OPEN] The Long Journey at it's End [Hector/Open]

Horus Tarkus Posts: 7
Outcast
Stallion :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 7
Escapist
#1
horus tarkus
History, despite it's wrenching pain, cannot be unlived,
but if faced with courage,
need not be lived again.
The moon pulled itself higher into the sky as the two stallions made their way across the lands of Helovia, beyond the threshold. Horus was quite delighted to listen to whatever Hector would tell him about his herdlands as well as whatever he would gift him as far as his magic was concerned. It took a bit of getting used to (and to be fair, he wasn’t entirely comfortable after the long walk, either; more time would be needed) but he found that over time the lion tail that protruded from Hector’s rump seemed near common place, as it felt entirely natural for the alicorn to have that attachment as opposed to Horus’ own cascade of black tresses. The horns that made their home upon the liver stallion’s face seemed to be merely accessories, an extension of himself that Horus was finding great comfort in. If he were ever to need to call upon the beast in battle he knew that he would have a mighty alley, and if he should meet him as foe, a challenging adversary. Still, those wings of his were the most troublesome, and perhaps that was because they were the most obvious of all his unique traits, and the largest. Horus couldn’t help but find himself staring at them from behind, trying to stay ever watchful of where those feathers were so that he was not crowing the new friend he had found himself with.

Still, the bay stallion tried to be as discreet as possible when it came to his acknowledgements of  Hector’s extremities. After all, it was never the stallion’s intentions to be seen as rude or as some gagging child who had never seen something like this before (though that was perhaps the most accurate description of who he was right at that moment). As they walked, he found himself gaining a tired gaze, his pillars dragging farther and farther across the ground, causing their advance to slow quite a bit. His cranium dipped low upon his boa, hanging heavy upon his shoulders. He dared not ask to stop, however, as Hector seemed so delighted to soon be upon the lands he called home; Horus kept his thoughts to himself and pushed forward, hoping that soon he would find himself within those same quarters, catching the sleep that was much needed after a very long day’s travel.

===
Word Count :: 395
Muse :: Eh, not quite there
Notes :: Sorry this took an ungodly amount of time and it’s so freaking short, but I had a lot of things swallow me (and my muse) in real life. Hopefully this gives you enough of a start to get them in gear!

"Talk."

@Hector

coloring & coding credit

Hector Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 18.3hh :: 7 Years HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE
Veci :: Plain Boggart :: Suffocate Dream
#2

His wings were clutched against his sides, so as to fight the urge to fly ahead to check on Amani. Ever since noting her swollen sides at the meeting, he had become over-protective of the Pegasus mare. Sturdy legs carried the two of them towards the Dragon's Throat, and soon they were at the edge of the far side of the throat. Horus would need a key to get into the throat or something, but only the herd leaders had those to give out right now. "Hmm... Lemme see if I can call for someone who has a key you could have to use to enter the throat." He said, scouring the beach across the water. Not spotting anyone, he let out a trumpeting call for someone in a position of authority who could accept Horus into the Throat and give him a key to enter and leave the herdland.

And then he thought of Gaucho... Oh how he would've loved for the Wildfire to see him bringing in new members to the Throat. A sigh escaped the stallion at the thought of the recent Sultan's death. It had hit the entire herd hard, especially him. He and Gaucho had been good friends since before the WildFire had been ranked as Sultan, and he missed him. Those emotions from both him and Amani had resulted in a night of passion in which a young foal was conceived. His first foal since the twins with Daenerys, those years ago. Even if he and Amani were just basically friends with benefits, he would be there for their foal, for the life they created together.

"Are you ready to meet those who lead the Dragon's Throat?" He asked suddenly, turning to his newfound friend. Fiery orange eyes blinked at the blood bay stallion, head tilting slightly as he spoke. Eyes darted between Horus and the shoreline on the opposite side, keeping an eye out for any leader or curious members that decided to come investigate his trumpeting call from the side of the Throat the herd did not reside on.

Text. "Speech."



@Horus Tarkus

• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times

Horus Tarkus Posts: 7
Outcast
Stallion :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 7
Escapist
#3
horus tarkus
History, despite it's wrenching pain, cannot be unlived,
but if faced with courage,
need not be lived again.
Ah yes, a key. Horus had been informed that he was going to need such a thing in order to get into the herd lands. He wasn’t entirely sure how that was supposed to work, and he hadn’t thought to ask. He had assumed that it was some code phrase, or perhaps an item that allowed him to traverse safely. Come to think, he hadn’t asked much about the situation where the herd was located, and as they found themselves on the banks of a vast expanse of water, he saw in the distance an island. It was then that the tired stallion made the connection. He lifted his cranium and his audits pricked as Hector spoke. So this key had to be some sort of magical item that would allow him to cross the waters. It would appear that the wings that Hector held were more than just a flashy bit of feathers to use to woo a mare. They had a practical use after all. He wondered briefly in his sleep-deprived state if he might have to grow wings in order to continue living here; if that even was an option. Though the journey to reach Hector’s home had been long, it had been wonderful, leading them through forests and meadows, and Horus found that Hector was willing to answer his questions when he asked them, though when it came to the stallion’s personal history, he kept it to himself. While Horus was more than happy to hear brief goings-on about the Dragon’s Throat herd, he would much rather here the tale of such a place straight from the source, and that would be the herd members. One could discover only so much with one source. After a time, Horus had grown quiet and was just happy to be in the company of another rather than traveling on his own. Still, things kept him awake at night, mostly in the department of him questioning all that he had ever known. He was trying to recall those old tales that the Shaman in his herd had told, but he had, unfortunately, kept them locked away. He wasn’t sure how useful they would have been for him anyways, seeing as how Helovia was quite real, and there was so much to learn.

Hector seemed quite excited for Horus to meet those that he had the pleasure to call in leadership. The way that his fiery eyes moved between the shore and the blood bay, the inclination of his skull and the way his voice carried a trumpeting sound across the waters proved to Horus even more clearly that Hector, while also friend, was certainly a warrior. The smaller stallion straightened himself, attempting to shake the sleep from his pelt, shuffling his daggers against the soft sand. Sand! He had traveled many places, but never anywhere close enough to lead him to sand and waters this far reaching. It went on as far as he could see in any direction. That thought was simultaneously comforting and also terrifying; to know that he existed as himself as such a small creature in this world, though he could be considered a giant to the dragonfly that was buzzing softly near a felled branch. It was beginning to cool in the evening from the summer days to the colourful dance of autumn, and such a chill was a relief to his dark pelt which leeched up the sun rays all day long. It took him a moment to realize he had skipped a beat in responding to Hector, having been distracted by the sheer beauty of the environment around him. He turned his attention back to the liver stallion and dipped his head.

“Of course. I will be delighted to meet those you call to in times of need. I am sure that those who you are lucky to call leaders do so with steady hand and with noble hearts much like your own,” the words fell from Horus’ lips in a soft spoken manner with high respect. It would do no good to slip something from his tired tongue that would cause offense. He would need to make sure that he was on his utmost behavior and put his best hoof forward; even if that meant taking an extra moment or two to fully think out his response. Rather better to be thought of as thoughtful than to be thought of as brash and rude. His raven banner flicked back and forth calmly behind him, brushing against his rump and flicking away any of the water insects that thought they would make his hide their new home. His blue orbs took on an almost silver-tinged hue in the moonlight, reflecting off the waters which he again found himself drawn to.

The stallion wasn’t sure what it was about this place, but the idea of being surrounded by such marvelous beauty delighted him; even more so the water, with such calming brilliance. Though his herd had been to many places in their travels, they had never found themselves anywhere remotely resembling an ocean, or a large lake, for that matter. It seemed they were always well within the middle of the world, along plains and hills and the occasional mountain that graced their features. It suddenly occurred to Horus that perhaps his lust for knowledge and history was because, while he fully understood and knew his own herd’s forwards and backwards, he did not have much knowledge of the world at large. The thought that perhaps he was quite sheltered and naïve had not crossed his mind before, but in the last few days, he supposed that all of his knowledge had been challenged. He let out a soft sigh and returned his attentions to Hector, speaking his mind before he perhaps lost his nerve.

“Thank you, Hector; for providing me such wonderful company, and for being so gracious as to offer to show me your home. I am ever grateful for your patience with me and my need to adjust to this,” he paused, indicating with his head in a controlled gesture the general area around them, “Entire thing. You have been nothing but kind to me, and I want you to know that you have my undying gratitude in that respect.”The blood bay stallion dipped his white blazed cranium in a respectful bow, as it was the only thing that he could think of that would be able to communicate all that he wanted to show this stallion before perhaps he would need to give those same respects to his leaders.

===

Word Count :: 1100
Muse :: Fairly good!
Notes :: Wee! I think they would be good to have anyone join them at any time.
@Hector

"Talk."

coloring & coding credit

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



The night is black and velvet, Her moon high in the sky as he wades into the chilled waters on the sandbanks of the ocean shore. Grief is a black stain on his quiet heart, but it does not drown him as it once would have. He has lost far too much for that. It is a familiar pain now, like inviting an old friend across the threshold of his house where they take up roost, and he does not have the energy to ask them politely to leave. 

You will catch a cold if you swim at night in the autumn time, Ilaria says softly from where she is pawing at the water from his back, an ardent swimmer but unwilling to become ill with the chill of the waves. She doesn't scold him firmly for his actions, aware that he would deal with his grief on his own terms. So long as he did not put himself in mortal peril or slip too far away from her, she would leave him to the pain of his heart. A silent friend, supporting him in his loss. 

Cera sighs softly, pale lips dancing across the shuddering surface of the inky water. The Throat was changing once more, as it had in the wake of Kri and Midas. Yet here he was, eternal and unchanging, recording the winding tales of all that transpired within the herd. A quiet guardian of the sands. He would support Sikeax in her ascension, his best friend and now co-parent of his beautiful angel. But it did nothing to stop him from feeling so damn tired. Worn by the events of his life and his herd, jaded by the constant squabbling and hatred in the family he loved. Broken by his sister's absence, his own achingly lonely heart, and the loss of the one man who had continually believed in Cera. Even when the Prince had never deserved it. 

A bugle crosses the water and Cera raises his head, grateful that he had not gone deep enough to wet his wings when someone is in need of him. Not me in particular of course, he thought bitterly, Ilaria's sad sigh the only response as he took to the starlit sky. 

Hector, he muses grumpily even as his shimmering moonlight wings bring him to the shore before the warrior and his bare company. He had been so close with Hector, had advised him on his quest from the Sun God when he'd been Diviner. Back then, Hector had decided to no longer be a soldier, and yet that had apparently changed once again. Alongside it, apparently their friendship had been forgotten, for Hector had been busy in the herd for nearly an entire season without ever once seeking Cera out. Even after having seen him when they'd gone to meet Eldala. 

But his bitter heart will not impede upon his duties, and Cera smiled kindly at the new fellow on the sands. "Welcome to the Dragon's Throat. My name is Cera. What is it you seek?" He was capable of deeming the newcomer acceptable and bringing him into the flock, and he wasn't sure if that was what was needed at that moment. 


Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow
Set me free to find my calling, and I'll return to you somehow
I am Ceraaaa
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!

Hector Posts: 262
Outcast atk: 7 | def: 9.5 | dam: 3.5
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 18.3hh :: 7 Years HP: 63 | Buff: ENDURE
Veci :: Plain Boggart :: Suffocate Dream
#5

The stallion stood by his friend's side, waiting for one of the members of the Throat to come over. A smile was on his face as he stood next to Horus, waiting to see who would approach the duo. Sadly for him, Cera came over. The stallion had been a poor friend to Cera, and Megaera both since he came back into the Throat after a period of absence. His head dropped slightly in shame at the fact that he had not reconnected with old friends. "Cera... We must get together soon. I need to talk to you, and apologize for being so distant since I came back." He said softly to the Golden Prince. He bowed down slightly, lowering himself slightly towards the sand to show how sorry he was to his friend.

"Cera, this is Horus Tarkus. We met in the Threshold, and he was interested in the Dragon's Throat. I brought him here, though he will need a key to access the Dragon's Throat since he doesn't have any wings." He started, moving towards Cera and aiming to bump his right shoulder against Cera's left shoulder in a show of friendship. He needed to privately talk with Cera about what happened. His mind was a little scattered after returning to the Throat, and he was thinking that perhaps he didn't want to be a warrior at times.. Perhaps he could become a healer, or a crafter or something in the Throat. Granted he had rank magic now, but he would be willing to give that up if it meant he would retain all his friends that he once had he had before he left the Throat, and disappeared for a period of time.

Text. "Speech."



@Horus Tarkus

• Dragon's Throat Rank Experience: Fortify | Level 3
• Permission given for moderate power play, magical influence and damage at all times

Horus Tarkus Posts: 7
Outcast
Stallion :: Equine :: 16 hh :: 7
Escapist
#6
horus tarkus
History, despite it's wrenching pain, cannot be unlived,
but if faced with courage,
need not be lived again.
Horus is delighted to see that Hector seemed to deem his answer to his questions acceptable, and he relaxed his shoulders, which had become tense while concocting a proper response. It was not long after this small exchange that a shadow passed in front of the moon, blotting it out of the sky for a brief moment. It is this plunge into shadow that brings the bay stallion’s head back up to attention and towards the atmosphere. A large creature with wings that appeared a touch too large for the body it was attached to was making its way towards them, creamy underbelly reflecting against the dark waters below. As it came closer, Horus was able to discern that the figure was equine, though certainly on the more athletic and lithe spectrum. As the apparent stallion made his landing, Horus stepping backwards in a small shuffle to create what he felt was enough room, the bay was able to get a proper look at the new companion.

This new stallion seemed to have been crafted for agility, his lean muscle rippling with aerodynamics, their distinctive splashed pattern alternating what he could assume was a brilliant soft gold against milky cream. As of the moment, with the shadows, the gold tone took on a bit of a dark, almost caramel or thick honey hue, and the pale sections of his pelt reflected the dark blue-ish tint of the water and the dark sky. His mane faded in similar colours in an ombre fashion, from that same honey-hue to snow, the wings upon his person (and what a large affair they were) alternating these same colorations among the feathers, with no discernable pattern to them. His calm features reflected deep green orbs, as if the forests behind them could have been found there. What attracted Horus’ immediate attention (aside from the stallion’s feathery digits) were the apparent scars across his person, particularly the one that made its home on his breast. Overall, the stallion stood not quite a full hand taller than Horus, and held himself with dignity, though there seemed to be a solemn nature to him that struck him as out of place, as if the stallion had been busy reminiscing over some other thought before the bugle had called him to order and he was just now tucking that memory into its box and locking it away.

It was then that this stallion spoke, welcoming Horus to their lands, and introducing himself as Cera. Hector seemed quite eager to answer his herd-mate as he stepped forward, uttering an apology and dipping his head before introducing Horus and explaining the situation. It seemed the liver stallion was in much need to make amends with his former friend as he stepped forward in an attempt to make a friendly nudge with his shoulder against the golden-spattered stallion.

Horus shifted on his pillars, stepping back into social proximity, telling himself not to gawk at Cera’s wings, now tucked neatly against the stallion’s sides. The blood bay bowed his head low in respect, his soft white blaze cutting a path through the darkness as his cranium lowered. “It is an honour to make your acquaintance, Cera. Hector has told me that your herd, the Dragon’s Throat, is one of nobility and strength, and I see that he certainly did not exaggerate.” He brought himself back to his full height, shaking his pelt as the cool air brought a fresh breeze to the small gathering. “As Hector has so graciously informed you, I am called Horus Tarkus, though Horus is just fine; I find it to be much less a mouthful.” He gave a light chuckle, his bodice rumbling as the sound carried from deep within his breast. “Forgive me if any of my manners are lacking. I have been traveling for quite some time and I fear that without any form of proper rest, I’ve been pushed towards my limits. When Hector told me of your herd, I found the thought of meeting you all to be a delightful one. I wish not to intrude if that is not welcome, as from what I can discern, I would need wings or a key to enter your territory. I can imagine that inviting strange stallions to your land would come with its own obstacles and as such bring forth a system in which to protect your families.” He straightened himself again, watching Cera with his blue eyes, trying to not look as tired as he felt, hoping that he came across as alert as he could be. “I would be more than willing, and quite happy to perform any sort of task or answer any questions that you may need to put your mind at ease so that I may find safe passage to your island.”

Horus glanced between Hector and Cera, hoping that he was not speaking too much. He did not fear saying too little, as that had never been a concern for the stallion, even when he was but a wee colt. He did, however, have a habit of getting nervous and feeling a childish need to impress those that he met, and it seemed that became more prevalent when his bones were weary. He hoped that, at the very least, he made a good impression and that Cera thought of him as more of a respectful soul rather than one too eager to please. While the latter might be true to some extent, he’d rather air in the side of caution and present himself as a gentle and cautious soul than one that was going to kiss ass at any length, as that has never been the case; Horus could have quite a stubborn streak if he was so inclined. His raven banner swayed silently behind him as the moon stretched across the water, spreading her fingers across the waves like a silent guardian, watching over the gathering.

It was then that Horus made note of the small creature that was on Cera’s back, tucked between the folds of the stallion’s wings. He caught only a glimpse, but it appeared to be some sort of fuzzy marsupial, small in nature. He thought it was, anyways. Perhaps he was just exhausted and it was a trick of the eyes. He decided not to say anything if it was, indeed, just his mind playing tricks on him. Though, with Hector having shown him some small magic previous, he supposed having a small animal companion would have been the least strange thing he would have seen since arriving in Helovia.

===

Word Count :: 1097
Muse :: Fabulous! A little rocky at first, but picked up towards the end
Notes :: This should be quite fun! Sorry if Some parts drag, I’m a bit tired myself as I finish this up, so hopefully it holds to standards!

"Talk."

coloring & coding credit


@Cera

ps note: Hey! :3 I know you've said you've got the post finished, you just have to get it up, but I figured I'd bring attention back to it since (for timeline reasons) I'm unable to move Horus forward in anything else until I finish this thread. Thank you for understanding!

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
#7



The cherry newcomer politely gives Cera room that the Prince does not truly need, not when he was born and raised on the winds and in the skies. But it prompts a warm, appreciative smile from the Golden nonetheless, the respectful awareness of his species comfortingly displaying to Cera the first inklings of the kind of man Hector had brought to the Throat. Speaking of the warrior, Cera gently dipped his head towards the tribrid as he spoke, mentioning once more how he wished to meet with Cera privately later to converse regarding their fractured friendship. He didn't want to mention it in front of this newcomer, who they were trying to both impress and display the honest vices and virtues of their herd to. It was a delicate matter, and Cera momentarily wished Hector had not mentioned it, if only because it was so private.
 
"Aye, soon," he comforted softly. Ilaria stiffened on his spine, and Cera swallowed as he realized he'd momentarily adopted his father's manner of speaking. Wrenching himself free of those thoughts, grateful that the transition had not shown on his usually expressive cherubic features, the Prince smiled warmly at Horus in greeting. Perhaps unfairly using the polite man as a distraction, but his attention at least was sincere. Surely that meant something in the grand scheme of polite interaction.
 
The fellow reminded Cera of the old ways, and the Prince bowed his head in paralleled greeting as the pale face did so first. For a moment his face heats at the implication that Horus believes Cera embodies the values of nobility and strength that Hector had enforced, and does not know how to react to such incredible praise. Instead he convinces himself that Horus did not mean it in such a way, and instead focuses on the brute's further syllables. A soothing smile is summoned to the Prince's face, eyes warm with understanding. It is a foreboding thing, to stand on the borders of a strange land beneath the gaze of a strange fellow, seeking entrance with only the words in your mouth to speak for you. 

"Your manners are impeccable, Horus. Please, be at ease." Whether or not he would be able to heed Cera's advice would be seen, but he hoped it would at least ease some of the worries laying in the shadows of the man's heart. Hearing the man speak of exhaustion only softened the corners of Cera's own tired eyes further. And unlike many who came to their sands, he was willing to go through any task or trial Cera could concoct for him to prove his willingness and ability to be trusted. Even in his less than stellar state. That spoke far more for the felllow's temperament and honesty than anything else, but Cera also knew that without Gaucho, their herd was at a weak point. He could not simply accept anybody for appearing nice. 

"Yes, I have the key you will need to make it to the mainland. But do not fear, even if you were to change your mind, you could find a night's haven in our lands. Helovia is large, and traversing her is an exhausting task." Even flight could not cut down the hours and days required to make it to a bordering land, much less another herd. Especially with how far north the Threshold lay. Cera understood his failing energy, and vowed to make the interrogation as quick as he could to spare Horus the task of standing there immobile for hours more. 

"Do you have any talent or desire to learn about a certain skill? We have diplomacy, metal crafting, fighting, healing, and divination of the Gods. We pride ourselves on the fact that our citizens all contribute something to the herd, and while you could take some time to think on what path you would desire, we would expect you to pick a route to journey along in time." Long ivory tail flicked against his hocks as he inquisitively eyed Horus, never losing his warm and easily approachable demeanor, but falling into seriousness nonetheless regarding this important parlay. 


Bind me not to the pasture, chain me not to the plow
Set me free to find my calling, and I'll return to you somehow
I am Ceraaaa

@Horus Tarkus gurgles because I'm the worst. If you ever need to nudge me about a thread PM my Brit account! Sometimes my tags accumulate and I don't always see them right away. Sorry for the wait dearest <3
Please only tag starting posts, spars, and threads collecting dust!


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