"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
There were gonna be a few conversations after this.
Like, for one thing, why I had dropped everything and everyone and left them all in the dust at the slightest implication of something bad happening to Lee.
Including Chico.
And he had a lot of feelings about that, man. He wasn’t trying to hide them either. They were stacking behind my eyes and neither of us knew what to do with them or even what they were exactly. Was it hurt? Anger? Confusion? Was it the fact that I had left him there on there on the ground with a quickness that was sticking in his mind? Was it the fact that I hadn’t even said a word to the others about where I was going, even though they were probably just as worried, that was setting him off? Was it the fact that I was feeling this much panic, this much worry for Lee--someone who I didn’t even know apparently, someone I had less of a claim on than anyone else who resided in that place, those who were his former subjects--even though it made no sense, even though it was a raw, scary feeling in my breast that could very, very easily lodge its blade into one of my thickest arteries?
I could say I had expected Chico to keep up, that I hadn’t realized he had fallen behind--but it was half a lie and I’m not that kind of an asshole to twist the story like that. The truth was that I wasn’t paying attention at all in the turmoil of my thoughts, which rested on the place where I had found Lee so long ago, beaten and falling apart, even though apparently he had had a lot more falling apart to do. It was gonna be far and it was gonna be cold and it was gonna suck but if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my time alive, it’s that large moody men like wallowing and brooding up in the frozen north and it was an easy place for a ghost like Lee to get caught up in.
Chico didn’t follow immediately; he made sure that there were others who would accompany me up there to help search, because I hadn’t said anything before I left, of any ideas or leads or whatever that could help search for the dude. I was willing to leave them in the worried dark with my frantic fear and Chico was the only one sound enough to communicate the message and save them all a little bit more sleep at night.
It was really, really shocking to learn how selfish I actually am, to be honest.
The feelings rumbling in my blood were vague and pooling into a momentum that I wouldn’t be able to escape here soon in the near future. But they were weak enough against the onslaught of my hammering heart, of my shattered thoughts as I raced to a place where the hills were made of snow and the mountains were built from snow. “LEE,” I call out, his name blowing from my maw in an explosion of white cloud, “LEE?!” I’d never actually looked for him before--he had always just…appeared out of the snowdrifts, his body one with the treacherous purity of the ice that frosted the horizon. I couldn’t just wait for him to appear this time, though. I had to call out his name for him, listen for his response, a call for help somewhere, anything other than the sight of a...of a body that would just appear out of the snowdrifts that was just as cold as the ice that coated it.
Quit Hollerin' "Why God?", he ain't got shit to do with it.
10-13-2016, 04:21 PM (This post was last modified: 10-14-2016, 10:25 AM by Mesec.)
Mesec hadn’t exactly been able to race after Roskuld full-tilt after the meeting where they found out Mauja had been missing but he followed as soon as he could. First he had to deposit two very reluctant children with someone because, as much as he despised leaving them, he would move faster without them this time. He left Lucius behind with them to keep an eye on the pair and it made him feel better knowing that at least a part of him was there.
Then, once that was figured out, he had to find out where Ros had gone. With one side of the Edge bordering the ocean, there were only a million other directions she could have started her search. Fortunately, Chico had stayed behind (or been left behind) and was some help showing but, fortunately, Chico had stayed behind and was some help there. She had gone north so Mesec quickly set out to catch up - keeping his silver eyes peeled for both Mauja and the young Kianzo along the way.
In the end, however, he just found his sister. Which, really, wasn’t so bad but he already knew she wasn’t missing. Calling the shadows toward him, Mesec teleported to her location instead of wasting time catching up. Once there, he realized she was shouting the name Lee. Was there a third someone missing? Well, whoever she was looking for - he was here to help. Through his own worried expression, he managed to find a comforting smile for his little sister. “We’ll find him, Ros, don’t worry.”
After a few paces, his silver eyes scanning the land where Frostfall had come early, Lucius interrupted his thoughts by suggesting something.
Become the warg.
Before Mesec could freak out, his companion pointed out the benefits of having the senses of a predator while they were searching (hunting) for someone. For the moment, the shouting of his sister being worried for someone she cared about drowned out the memory of Zero’s screams and Mesec was able to realize the benefits of this plan. “Uhh… Ros?” He called out to her, stopping his search momentarily. He didn’t want to distract her but he definitely didn’t want what was about to happen to be a surprise. “Don’t freak out, okay? But I think we’re going to need a strong nose to sniff him out.”
This was it, he was actually doing this out of his own free will - for the first time ever. Not because of some heartache, there wasn’t even an echo of Ampere in his mind. She had always been involved with his triggers before this but now his mind was filled with a different family - his actual family. And they needed his help. He definitely had second thoughts, but in the end he knew it would help so he transformed there in the snow - there near Roskuld while Lucius fretted leagues away in the Edge. The grunts of pain during the process turned into growls but those faded away as wings and flesh turned into fur. He was still a little taller than her in this form - the mass of his horse body transforming into something that wasn’t quite a bear, wasn’t quite a wolf.
For a moment, he lingered awkwardly - blinking his silver eyes, but quickly remembered that they had come here for a reason. Not able to find any words to say, and afraid of what he might dredge up if he did, Mesec just shrugged his new hairy shoulders and started to pad off, his muzzle lowered low to the ground and he sought out any signs of Mauja - unwilling to entertain any outcome that did not see him home safely to the Edge.
He is but a memory, the echo of a presence, finally buried in life as he is in his soul—laid out beneath a blanket of pure snow in a tomb of glacial ice.
He could remain there, forever, in his false death. He doesn't know anymore, so he cannot mind; can only lie in the depths of not-quite-sleep, unaware of everything but something that feels only like the slow rocking of an ocean. (It's his heart—)
The narrow strip of sky and sun he once saw is gone. The glacier floor is cast into shadow once more, and had he had the strength of mind to see anything it would've been nothing but the odd gray underside of snow. It takes on a particular, strange kind of color when lit by the sun from above, drab and dreary yet pinpricked with light all the same. Melting and cooling and building little lattice bridges it has covered up the scene of the crime, lips closing as the secret goes down the gullet—there's no sign of what transpired anymore, just unbroken snow, a world of his own down below.
Mauja is all white, down there, the black spots swallowed up by the undisturbed snow. And he's dead, as dead as you can get while your heart still beats. The faint clouds of white smoking from his snow-covered muzzle come with so long between them they might not even be real, nothing but the imagination of the hopeful.
More brittle than the dead horse are the owls bundled in its mane, tucked into folds of long and pale silken hairs. They're covered in snow, too, heads turned back and resting on their shoulders—asleep, so deeply asleep, so snug and warm in their souls because they trust so much that had Mauja been awake, it would've hurt, the deepest kind of ache. He had never let them down before. He had thought about it, had nearly let himself be killed, had nearly lost Irma to the wrath of a foreign god, had thought so many bad things but in the end, he'd always saved himself and them and he'd do so again and again and again so they were fine, everything was fine, because Mauja was there—
(He wished he could share their trust.)
“LEE, LEE?!” The name echoes far above, rolls like distant thunder and erratic lightning across an unbroken landscape of white; it falls together with a small scatter of snowflakes onto his ears, sinks into his mind but does not register.
Nothing moves.
He's just a dead horse with starlight in his veins and shadows in his lungs.
10-20-2016, 11:23 AM (This post was last modified: 10-22-2016, 01:40 AM by Tilney.)
A promise had been made to the king and Tilneys word was one always kept. This was a man who intended to help find the missing Emissary - a spotted man most valued by the monarchs and the herd. Despite the disagreeable nature of the speckled brutes attitude upon thier first meeting, Tilney was willing to aknowledge that maybe his own behaviour was at fault - perhaps he should of just got to work.
Anyways, Tilneys father had always told him to never wave at an opportunity to just shut up.
Or maybe he should just forget about their unfortunate meeting at the trenches all togeather and attempt the rescue of this man not for the King or Queen but for the moon blessed Emissary himself - and, as the flaxen physician marched, that day was forgotten.
A World's Edge council member dwelled alone in a blizzard, perhaps lost and bare without shelter or food, and this was the only details that Tilney need think about.
Where might you find a Frozen Light? Perhaps somewhere.... frozen?
Like a little orange leaf on the wind, he paddled along the slopes leading to the Forstbreath Steppe with as much courage in his heart as he could muster- that was not nearly enough as he'd need however. He was not fearless or brave, though he was lucky to be courageous and that was the only foothold he had in the snow; Without warmth in his chest holding his shaky legs to ground he would crash down the mountain like a pebble.
Lantern laiden and alight the windswept stallion cantered over the neat plateau, and on the horizon spying the figures of a dark pegasus and that same lightning-marked unicorn he could recall witnessing at the meeting. Had he stumbled upon the search party?
As his stride took him closer, that dark pegasus began to howl. The Doctor gasped, hooves planting into the snow as he watched the great winged man transform into something the gods might not even know.
Was it even safe to approach? The beast didn't attack the storm-pelted mare so the animal still seemed sentient at least.
Footfalls now high and cautious the doctor drew closer, cloak playing with the wind behind him as he approached. "Hark," was his first word to the small gathering "I am Tilney, A Moon Doctor. I Have come to aid your search"
Lantern crooning over the two present, Tilneys eyes remained almost completely on the beast praying it wouldn't strike, and also that this blessed Emissary was here among the ice and snow.
The voice voice came behind me so sudden and familiar and shocking I jumped a little bit, my feet splaying out under me as a bubble was popped. “Whoa jeez--” I hissed, turning on the spot and seeing Mesec of all people, coming up so silken and silent I woulda never had a chance to see him coming even if I had expected it.
It was such a weird thing to happen; that Mesec would be here when I was worrying myself sick over Lee’s absence--two parts of my lives that were kept so cleanly apart from one another were suddenly fused by circumstance and a herd. The thought of it, the unexpectedness of it caught me so off guard, I was thrown from the manic episode I was having over Lee, thrust totally out of the desperate whirlwind of action that had swallowed me so completely just moments before. “Uh…” It left me feeling breathless and I was stuck standing stupidly in front of Mesec, staring at him blankly for a few moments, not really registering he was there.
Because of course in the absence of the bubble that had dominated my headspace and shoved everything--literally everything--to the side, it all came pouring back into place in one hot rush. Aw jeez, it was hitting me harder than I thought it would, and all at once I felt the shame rise like a gross surge through my bones, realizing fully that Chico was no here and it was my fault in the first place. Aw jeez Cheek, I said in my head, but I didn’t even dare to offer that as a full apology because I knew good ‘n hell well he needed and deserved a lot more than that from me. I fucked up big and I knew, at that moment, that I was gonna be in the dog house for a while.
...on’t freak out, okay? But I think we’re going to need a strong nose to sniff him out.
“Uh...ok,” I said, still absent and still blank, because apparently I ain’t have the processor power to handle more than one bleak, powerful feeling at once.
So I guess now was the time to feel another kind of powerful emotion. The grand feeling of Holy Shit.
The only thing that could’ve ever made focus on the task at hand again was if someone had exploded in a blast of fading feathers and rippling fur, as though they were bursting out of their own body with all kinds of sinew and muscle and raw strength that they had been hiding in the core of their form. And that’s exactly what the fuck happened.
“Holy shit,” I said, taking a step back, remembering he had told me not to freak out and doing a good job of holding everything together but still, holy shit. “Holy shit,” I said again, my eyes popping--but the creature was already bounding away, nose in the air sniffing, and my brain caught up with the sight I was seeing and confirmed that he was actually still Mesec in that big ol’ shaggy fur suit.
A strong nose...sniffing out for Lee Mauja, because of course I wasn’t the only one who’d want to find him, and again I felt that sickly wash of shame trickle over me. I made to follow after Bro’s lead--but I was interrupted (again, jeez) by someone’s twinkling light and call.
I am Tilney, A Moon Doctor. I Have come to aid your search.
I shrugged, impatient and lost for things to say. “Cool,” I spat, my whole body poised to leave this bro in the snow and run off after BeastMode! Mesec….but then I halted myself, knowing my reaction was an old habit, knowing I was used to blowing off strangers and keeping my business to my damn self. But things were different now; I was a herd member and this dude was a herd member and we were all here looking for a herd member. So by default I owed this guy a little bit more than just a cool story, bro.
“I’m...uh...Ros,” I said, floundering for a rank title and giving up on it, “Bro…Mesec was gonna sniff him out for us, so keep up.” I bolted after Mesec’s shadow.
Quit Hollerin' "Why God?", he ain't got shit to do with it.
10-22-2016, 11:45 PM (This post was last modified: 10-25-2016, 10:14 PM by Tembovu.)
only the dead have seen the end of war
Ros’s exit from the meeting was not stealthy. She did not quietly slip away to go search for Mauja. She left in a blur of electrical energy, leaving Chico a flapping, perplexed, indignant mess in her wake. The King’s sad navy eyes had followed her, quiet curiosity piquing in his mind at the gesture; Ros had spoken of Mauja (—Lee, to her—) before she had left. It had been an interesting conversation, filled with unasked questions and even fewer answers. But Roskuld had still left, despite Mauja asking her to stay. He had been there, he had seen it that first day of Birdsong.
As King, he stayed alongside his Queen through the end of the meeting, thus leaving him far behind Roskuld’s rapid delving into a searching mission. And it was Chico (with no small amount of condolences from Mbwene), who alerted the stallion as to where Ros had aimed to begin her searches. The North? Again? It seemed that, even with his lover now residing in the Edge with him, the man would never be rid of traveling the frigid mountains.
So, with closing the meeting, waiting for Mbwene to finish molesting ‘consoling’ Chico, and having to travel via hoof, he was very far behind the search party that scoured the permanently frozen Steppe. Navy eyes peered across the bright expanse of permafrost, squinting slightly against the glare— there. There were bodies.
He broke into an easy (but snow-shaking) lope, immensely glad that Mbwene had stayed in the Edge as her small limbs would have led to much mental grumbling through their bond. As it was, his massive stride made quick work of the cold distance that stretched between him and the others.
Perked ears caught the tail end of Ros’s words, ”Mesec was gonna sniff him out for us, so keep up.” But, while his ears caught the Sparklight’s words, his gaze remained trained on the Nightwind. His eyes were wide, brows drawn and creased as he slowed to a stop, some distance away from the gigantic wolf whose maw was sampling and searching the chilly winds.
“Mesec?” His low rumble was wary and disbelieving. Part of him wished to challenge the man to prove it was, in fact, the father he had just welcomed in to the Edge. But another part of him—the part that won out—heard and understood the terse urgency in Ros’s word’s and actions. So, with taunt hide and creased eyes, he warily followed the search party as a large and looming shadow.
She didn't really want to be anywhere near the Nightwind, so when he rushed after Roskuld the young filly was inclined to stay home and leave the search for their missing Emissary to everyone else. But the thought of being greeted with bad news as the search-party returned was more than she could bear, because bad news would mean she had done nothing to try and find a man that might become a friend, given enough time. So when the meeting ended and Tembovu set off to the north, in the wake of everyone else, the pale girl followed after him on reluctant wings, still not sure whether the pale man truly ought to be their main concern. Was the king's son not missing? Shouldn't the kid be the first thing on a father's mind?
It was a bitter thought - her own dad didn't seem to give much of a fuck, after all, so perhaps it was presumptuous of her to think Tembovu ought to do better.
"Better slow down when you're out on the glacier!" she called down to the elephantine man, once snow and ice began to replace the brown and purple of heather below her. "There might be cracks, you won't know until you step on one." The warning was perhaps unnecessary as it wasn't the first time the stallion crossed the steppe, but she wanted to make sure he wouldn't try to do anything stupid, like running headlong over the ice.
Any other day Erthë would have come down to land beside the man, but she had a feeling the king wouldn't slow to match her pace this time. Beating her wings to gain more speed she sped on ahead instead, rising high into the air to get a better view of the landscape. After a bit of squinting against the brightness of the snow below she spotted Roskuld and Mesec, monochrome dots that crawled along in the distance closely followed by something red! - no not red, brown! And they had antlers.. Tilney, then. The doctor and the Sparklight was chatting about it, from what she could tell, but Erthë wasn't paying attention to their interactions - her eyes had glued onto the dark-skinned demi, and they were slowly widening in horror as she witnessed the macabre change that occurred with him.
"Monster" she hissed as the beast named Mesec charged ahead. She had no other word for it. He was not quite a bear, but not exactly a wolf either; but it was enough of a resemblance that it set her teeth on edge and made her skin crawl. The desire to reach for her bow was overwhelming, but she restrained herself.
Instead, Erthë fell back towards Tembovu again as she heard his startled exclamations and angled herself in so she might fly beside him, with an uncharacteristically dark expression on her face.
"That man can't be trusted" she told the King, voice dark and ominous - not at all her usual cheerful lilt. "He's violent - he tried to attack me once! Why did you let him join the Edge, Tembu?"
She didn't like it, not one bit - it didn't matter that he was the Lady's son, or that Mauja had vouched for him once. Erthë would not trust a wolf - why should she trust someone who turned into one?
Tigers didn't change their stripes, after all.
ERTHË
I’m a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm
Ros seemed to be in a trance, seeing him but not really seeing him - at least not until he shifted and she got an eyeful of the form he could take. Mesec made sure to keep his head low and as un-menacing as possible as she managed to contain her freak-out pretty well, all things considered.
He paused in his, well, sniffing when another figure joined them - introducing himself as Tilney, apparently one of the Moon Doctors. Mesec didn’t fail to note how the antlered stallion looked at him, which really wasn’t surprising. He was a horse-sized wolf-creature, after all. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” His voice was quiet and calm, hoping to reassure the healer, and he moved to continue the search when more interruptions came.
First their king, pinning Mesec with his gaze and speaking in a disbelieving tone. “Uh yeah… hi.. King Tembovu.” Mesec paused in his sniffing long enough to acknowledge the latest arrival to the search party, ducking his large, fuzzy head in a greeting. He didn’t want to waste time with explanations just yet, however, they were after all there to conduct a search.
But then, of course, Erthë showed up. Mesec surprised himself with feeling a little annoyed - he intended to talk to the pale girl after they returned to the Edge but here she was, changing the topic of conversation to him and not to the one they were seeking. Mauja could be dying and every moment was precious, they didn’t have time for this right now.
Still, his head and tail drooped at her words and he stole one of those precious moments in the hopes that she wouldn’t continue to slow them down - turning around to face them. “I’m sorry, Erthë. I didn’t have control then… I’ll explain everything to you all, I promise.” His silver gaze flickered to Tembovu, to Roskuld, with a weight of sadness that changed to determination when he focused on his sister. “But after we find Mauja.” With that, he turned away from them and resumed his search - wishing it was as easy for his mind to turn away from her words as it was for his body.
He continued sniffing at the ground in all directions - feeling ridiculous but remembering seeing wolves do this sort of thing when they were hunting. And it felt… right? while he was in this form? Like the furry, large body had instincts he had not known about when the shifts were uncontrollable.
It was faint, almost entirely erased, but it was there. Embarrassingly, his tail started to wag of its own accord as his mind recognized the scent he had known since foal hood. Quickly gaining control over his own body - hopefully before anyone saw - Mesec turned his silver eyes to the group and confirmed his find. “He’s here. This way!” Mesec shouted barked at his searching companions and picked up the pace into a gentle lope while keeping his dark nose close the surface. Twice he slowed, picking up the scent again and changing direction. It wasn’t a trail exactly - he did not think he was picking up on where Mauja had been but rather were he was as the scent grew just a little stronger through the cracks in the glacier.
He moved carefully, thankful for his padded feet on the snow-covered ice, but even still his body lurched forward when his front paw slammed through some layers of snow and his face connected with the snow before it before he could scramble back. Wincing with pain, he examined the hole his leg had made and discovered that it just kept going. “Careful… there’s some sort of hole beneath the snow here.” He warned his companions - whichever of them were keeping up with him now (surely Ros, at the very least) - but his gaze stayed on the dark abyss that small hole formed.
A small hole that held stronger wisps of Mauja’s scent. Still chilled and still stale, as though it had not been active in some time, but Mesec wouldn’t let himself worry about why it might not be fresh. He refused to entertain thoughts of what they would find beneath the snow. Instead, he moved into action. With his back paws firmly placed on what he hoped was solid ground, he started to dig. “The scent is stronger here. Help me, but be careful!” He begged of those with him, not knowing how large the hole was and not wanting to see anyone else fall into it.
His great paws and claws burned from the ice and snow but he kept digging, allowing the sunlight to illuminate the icy chamber of the glacier, his heart beating faster and faster with each passing moment.
Please be alive, please be alive.
His frantic digging paused when enough sunlight reached into the glacier to illuminate a figure lying at the bottom - he felt his breath catch at the sight as well, as though his body was stilling in solidarity with the motionless figure below. “MAUJA!” Mesec shouted into the cavern, as though his voice enough would be enough to wake him. Fear and concern boiled together with him as he moved once more, this time calling the shadows around him and in a pop of darkness he disappeared from the top of the hole…
… and appeared at the bottom. He glanced upward to where the sun was shining briefly, hoping that the others stayed safely there, but quickly turned his attention to Mauja - his silver speckled muzzle reaching to nudge his friend gently and disturb the layer of snow that had fallen over him like a blanket.
10-23-2016, 10:45 AM (This post was last modified: 10-23-2016, 02:07 PM by Mauja.)
It kicks like a sleep twitch—
Snow breaks.
It falls apart into a myriad of flakes, their fragile bindings torn apart by the weight of a wolf-creature and his worried heart—they fall from far above, from no cloud, and some drift in against the jagged, solid walls of the crevasse. And some, they fall all the way to the undisturbed floor, settle along the sharp angles of an emaciated body, and upon the carelessly arranged locks of long, silken hair. It is almost like a perfect picture unveiled, of something bony and thin but so peaceful in its rest. No lines of tension are drawn about his eyes, his mouth, his nostrils.
He could simply be asleep.
But the undisturbed snow around him speaks of another story. No restless tail movements have swirled the flakes about in a long time, no shake of his head to clear some disturbing dream—nothing.
It's the scene of someone who has died without dying. It's—
(The warg's paws dig, dig, dig, and the snow keeps falling. Some are lone flakes, some are entire chunks of interlinked crystals, and with them comes the sunlight.)
Sunlight isn't what feeds his body, sunlight isn't the gentle magic floating through his aching veins—but sunlight is light, and, starved, his body fights to soak it up. To bask in it.
To feel it.
But his nerves are too tired. He cannot die, but this gift of starlight is not life, it is not energy, it is merely a bulwark against the finality of death.
Another white-smoke breath slips out of snow-covered nostrils, and the wolf stops blotting out the sun. In a puff of darkness it comes down the many yards, paws and fur disturbing the perfect disarray of snow; it looms above Mauja in the narrow crack, so far below those upon its rim. There's enough space for the two of them, but barely more than that—Mesec's large paws balance him in the space between Mauja's outstretched legs.
Something in the dead horse's soul sparks—maybe it's the sunlight just happening to fall along the barely-closed line between eye and lid, and the way it bites his retina, or maybe it's just the presence of warmth and love. Whatever it is, it does its best, but it's just not strong enough to amount to anything.
Another breath, dead giveaway that life lingers within.
And much too long until the next, seconds stretching and accumulating, before another white cloud forms, oh so faintly, around his dark nose. And so it goes, on and on, now and forever.
—you will choke, choke on the air you try to breathe.
[ Posting order is voluntary, by the way. I'd love if everyone managed to keep up and post once every round (bc I love everyone <3), but I also don't want to wait weeks before next round starts... tag you're it @Tilney@Roskuld Also for clarification, Mauja is lying in a glacier crevasse. He's about ~15 yards straight down, and it's quite narrow. There's a pocket of more space (pretty much just wide enough for Mau to lie on his side with his legs outstretched) where he is lying, but there's not really any space left over since Mesec is standing down there. ]
10-23-2016, 01:50 PM (This post was last modified: 10-23-2016, 02:08 PM by Tilney.)
'Don't Worry, I wont hurt you.' - said the fox to the gaggle of geese.
Tilney had no real choice but to take the monsters word and keep it, hold it, and hope that he was telling the truth. This new acquiantance of his, the storm-pelted Ros as she had introducted herself seemed to trust this transfiguring pegasus so why shouldn't Tilney? Besides, it wasn't his life at stake was it.
Keep up Ros has said, and so that was exactly what Tilney tried to do. His legs were nimble and long compared to those of the sparklit woman, his feet narrower and not ideal for traverssing the slopes. When it came ot the glacier however it was his flat, split hooves that kept him from slipping. The warg Mesec (as he had heard him named) clearly had paws and claws to hold him to the ice and well Ros was also lucky to share talon-like cloven feet with the physician.
Another approached; the King, closely followed by the girl of ice herself. Tilney bowed his crown ever so slightly to his monarch but dare not move either of his feet for fear of slipping and also sent a slightly scolding glance to young Erthë. This was perhaps not the best place for a young one like herself, but soon his own mind corrected him when he remembered she was not so young anymore.
That same girl gave shrill warnings of the beast in question in Tilneys own mind and it caused him to stop in his tracks and look upon the dark face of the wolf and wonder. Mesec gave a brief explanation that seemed not nearly satisfactory to the hybrid, but again it caused tilney to give a snort and shake his crown.
"We are here to find Mauja, this is not the time and certainly not the place to debate personal vendettas. We must work as a team."
He spoke mainly to the white one who had struck a dagger in the spirit of the mission momentarily, but it didn't take long at all for the chestnut to find his footing again and trek alongside Ros over the steppe.
“The scent is stronger here. Help me, but be careful!”
The words caused Tilneys heart to race, his blood to polute with adreneline. Stepping forth into the ice and frey the flaxen physician began to aid the warg and dig, pounding his marble hooves into the snow beside the beast and ship at the ice,snow and sleep until they uncovered the perculiar tomb. MAUJA had sounded - Tilney couldn't even recognise who from, but as light from both the world outside and his own lantern flooded the glacial crypt, his eyes fell upon a snow-speckled body.
Standing just as frozen as the cold bodice in the glacier, Tilney stared for a passing few seconds in pure awe that Mesec had actually found him. The nose knows it seemed.
The physician didn't take long at all to shake his thoughts and focus on the task at hand; they had a potentially dead herdmate stuck in this godforsaken glacier.
The chestnut gazed down into the claustrophobic space, stood above the fetal form of the emissary, lantern crooning over him from meters above.
Inspecting the spotted unicorn closely Tilney heard... was that... a breath?
"He breathes" Tilney confirmed to the party, immediately looking to the sky in search of... well, he didn't know. Perhaps he wished for Mother Moons reassurance for what he was about to do. It was something he had done numerous times though for some reason it felt like a brand new experience. Healing someone with this little life would take time and lend much of the Mothers pwoer.
Without another word the Moon doctor was at work, summoning the black smoke and allowing it to envelop the snow-sodden creature laid under his feet; Watching it seep into his nostrils and fill his lungs, curl over his ice-burned limbs and frostbitten ears.
The power, it waned. For the first time ever Tilney wondered if he might of asked for too much. Immediately he stopped, opening his green eyes and reeling away from the crevasse, stepping right away from the tomb where Mauja lay. He did hope at least that summoning that power had not been for nothing.
I was a mess. A pile of all kinds of emotions pulling me all over the place. Shock at Mesec’s new form. Confusion that Mesec was here at all. Surprise when Tembovu came upon us, his weight and shadow and thick scent falling on all of us at once, blanketing us with his presence. And a creeping feeling of overwhelming claustrophobia at the continued growth of our search party.
*Monster!*
I turned to the super-white chick who had said that, the slender snow pixie that had come running at the King’s heels. Her pale eyes were narrowed darkly, staring suspicious daggers at Mesec. At my Bro.
*That man can't be trusted. He's violent - he tried to attack me once! Why did you let him join the Edge, Tembu?*
Bitch, I’ll show you exactly what a violent monster looks like.
Do you really have so little faith in the judgement of your goddmaned King? Bitch, please.
You say one more shit about my big Brother and I’ll bust the limp out’cho kneecaps. Fuck with me.
The beauty of it was that all of those things tried to leave my mouth at the same time, choking my throat and rendering me mute. All I could do was cast a furious, sparking glare at her sputter indignantly before Bro caught the scent and bounded away. I followed him close, and my seething at these accusations was doing nothing but making the inner turmoil that much harder to handle.
We came to a glacier (of fucking course), walking gingerly across its slippery surface until Mesec caught something. *The scent is stronger here. Help me, but be careful!*
Fuck it.
I drew Sparkmarrow with a kruKOW as the blades snapped into place. With one, powerful thrust, I sank the blade into the ice’s depths; a deep, echoing crack sounded all throughout the ice, a crevice opening under Mesec’s paws, making it easier for him to break through the thick ice.
MAUJA!, Mesec screamed, and in a flash of billowing shadow my Brother was gone, having teleported down into the cavern. I leapt into the space he had just vacated, looking down into the crevice of ice--
--looking down, down, down, at a pile of white fur, white bones.
“LEE,” I screamed, my throat going raw, but I couldn’t help it; things were crashing in my ears and something like a fulfilled prophecy was nodding its head like “I told you so” at the same time it strangled my lungs. I could feel my entire body poised to leap in there after Mesec, even though it there wasn’t space, even though it wouldn’t work--
*He breathes*
--but then, with a muttered word, I remembered that I wasn’t alone.
I froze, because my body repelled Tinkey’s presence (that’s his name, right?), wanting to wash his words and his breath and his…presence from this place. Holy crap, just go, what are you even doing here. But it was a knee-jerk reaction because I was remembering that, duh, I wasn’t the only one here and there were even more people coming behind us, a King and an idiot, who were just as concerned and who were just as qualified to be here.
And besides, Tina was right. He did breathe.
I stared down at the silvery puffs of vapor that misted around a mouth that was black as death. I clamped my mouth shut. He was alive, and here was a welcoming committee for him, a whole team come to take him from the ice, to deliver him home. One of them was missing a son--but what did that matter? Lee--no, Mauja had been in danger, and everyone had to drop everything to fix that shit.
Now I was biting my lip.
Here I go, I was feeling the thing again. That...that thing I felt about being in a group like this, as though the ache in my heart was a shared thing and that it didn’t matter how it was twisting my insides like this, whatever, fuck it, this was a community exercise and all at once I felt it pressing against me, them, their presence here, their shared concern, drowning me, stifling me, and I reached for the one thing that grounded me when it was becoming too much too much too much--
...but I had left him behind.
Oh no.
I swallowed; I took a step back from the crevice, to allow someone else to come forward and look down upon the corpse that wasn’t a corpse after all. He was breathing. He was gonna be fine. He was found; I’d done my part. And here was a whole cavalcade of people to help thaw him out of the ice. I kept backing away; I quietly turned around, and headed south.
I mean...fuck it. It’s not like they needed me anymore.
Quit Hollerin' "Why God?", he ain't got shit to do with it.
10-25-2016, 10:44 PM (This post was last modified: 10-25-2016, 10:45 PM by Tembovu.)
only the dead have seen the end of war
The pounding of his hooves and icy wind buffeting his ears drowned out Erthe’s called warning, so it was with absolute surprise that he saw her flash of pearly white above him on the Steppe. And, though the King had seen her hide from Mesec at the meeting, he was still shocked at the vehemence in her voice when she hissed at him. And then questioned the Elephant’s decisions as King. His ears swung forward, eyes creasing slightly at the shocking change in Erthe’s normally cheerful demeanor—
But before the King could either question or explain, the large wolf was brusquely answering her before taking off at a brisk trot. And Tilney, the good Doctor, was reprimanding the young mare—apparently fatherhood had rubbed of on the jovial man. Navy eyes glance from Mesec’s retreating, barely-wagging tail to Erthe’s two-toned eyes. “After we find him, Erthe,” his deep voice echoed the Nightwind’s sentiments, promising that he would both hear and explain after they finished searching.
The quietly frantic feeling that pervaded the search party—or, at least, the two demigod’s words and actions— was impossible to miss. It was nearly palpable as they traveled over the snow; it was seen in the frenzied pawing at snow and . And so the Elephant simply, but firmly, said, “He is alive.” The sentence was said with entire and absolute assurance—because Tembovu knew Mauja could not die. He had tested it, himself; holding the man until his body replaced the blood Tembovu had bled out of it.
He stayed back, despite Mesec’s cry for help to dig at the the hole, because he did not trust the snow with his massive weight and did not want all five of them tumbling down this ice-covered crevasse. But, with the shocking snaps of Ros’s blade, the snow was soon enough breached and Mesec disappeared in a swarm of shadows. Dark brows raised—the Nightwind was full of surprises today, it seemed. And it was punctuated by Rob’s scream, making the King’s head snap towards her, dark eyes watching with concern.
Tilney confirmed the King’s previous statement of Mauja life by calling out the Frozen Light’s breaths. The Elephant strained forward wanting to approach the edge of the crevasse, but not trusting the weakened ice around it to hold him and the others gathered. While Erthe could fly free of collapsing ice, Mesec could shadow-shift away from breaking ice, and Mauja was promised eternal life regardless of caving ice; but he and Roskuld would be trapped beneath the crushing ice if it did fold beneath his weight—except Ros wouldn’t. Because she was turning to trot away.
“Ros, I don’t think you’ve found what you’re looking for, yet,” his low rumble was a strange mixture of stern challenge and soft understanding. Either way, his massive body blocked her from easily exiting the search party. And then, because he knew it would be easier for anyone to stay if they had a concrete reason, he quietly added, “Mauja is still in the crevasse. We may need your help getting him out.”
And, finally, he allowed himself to feel the overwhelming relief that had blossomed in his chest the moment Mesec started pawing at the snow. The King had kept it bottled for these long moments for the sake of commanding the tensions and emotions of this situation. But now, his shoulders sagged in relief and his eyes took prolonged, easy blinks. Warmth filled his veins as his heart pumped out the relief with every beat. Mauja was found. Though the King knew he would be alive, it was still a comfort to have it confirmed.
“What help do you need to get him out, Mesec?” His deep rumble called around Ros and towards the crevasse’s opening.
Her objections were shut down. Not just once, not twice, but three (four?) times, with different words and different level of intensity, but rejected they were. And it rankled, it stung, it burned to realize that her words meant so little.
Of course she knew this wasn't the time! But when would there be time? When they got back home? When they had found Tembovu's kid too? When someone actually got hurt by the beast that so cunningly had slithered into their midst?
Would they only listen to her when it was already too late, and her warnings came too late?
Hurt and furious by their collective refusal to listen she flattened her ears and turned resolutely away from all of them, not so much as looking at any of the men or the chunk of a mare who was glaring daggers at her. Without saying a word, lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval Erthë landed on the snow several yards away from the whole around which everyone was gathering, her eyes busying themselves with the bleak landscape and the jagged line of the horizon. The scenery fit her mood perfectly; the wind was strong as it was cold, strict and stern and unforgiving, just like she wanted to be. Like this wind Erthë wanted to sweep away, blow off somewhere in a whirlwind of snow and become the frozen expanse, vast and distant and uncaring.
If she were, then she wouldn't have to be hurt by scolding words, or be berated by a foul beast - the very same beast who would have killed her had it not been attacked by others at the very last moment. Did he even care that glistening teeth and drooling maws appeared in her dreams each night, every time she closed her eyes, ever since? Did anyone even care that the howl of wolves made her skin crawl, that the stench of their fur on the wind made her want to retch and scream and run to the ends of the earth?
No, they didn't care. All they concerned themselves with was a man in a whole who had done nothing for any of them, a ghost in the mist who wouldn't have bothered to look for any of them, had they disappeared. The former king, the former queen, the former member of the herd...
But what are you now, Mauja? What will you do when you get out of that frozen limbo? Are going back to doing nothing again? Too afraid to care, because you might lose. Too afraid to live, because you might yet die after all...
Too afraid to die, because you might have to keep living?
Well, you know what? I'm afraid too. Don't you dare act as if you're the only one!
"If we get some rope, maybe we can hoist him up" she said, unsmiling as she turned her head to glance back at Tembovu and the Sparklight. "Those who can fly might be of some use..."
Her eyes turned towards the sword-carrying demi-god, angry and accusing and challenging; she was leaving when her supposed friend was still stuck in a glacier? What kind of person did that? Erthë wasn't even sure she liked Mauja but she was still there, despite Mesec and fear and useless legs. And she, whole and strong and a fucking god-child would leave because of.... of what exactly!?
As Tilney began to heal, sending down the torrent of darkness, Mesec pressed away from Mauja until the ice of the glacier hit his side. He didn’t want to obstruct the healing powers accidentally. It was a relief to know that Mauja was alive at all, though breathing dangerously slowly. He hoped the magic of the antlered doctor would help spark some life back into him.
His thoughts were down in the icy grave where he stood, drawn only back to the surface when Tembovu’s voice boomed a question. Erthe’s suggestion about rope had him tilting his head thoughtfully. “Rope could work, though it would be tricky…” Mesec the warg looked around the small cavern that he was in with Mauja and the owls and released a soft whuff in exasperation. There was no room to move around here, it’d be almost impossible to get the rope around him and where would they find a rope strong and long enough for the task… and who would tie it? In either warg or horse form Mesec wasn’t sure he was dexterous enough to do it. “What we need is some need Help.” With a capital H because this wasn’t just ordinary help that they needed. They needed more. Either someone with the ability to move a body or… no, that was exactly what they needed. And he knew someone that would be able to. Unknowingly, Mesec added his prayer to that of Tilney’s - beseeching his mother to come, to help.
Even as his thoughts continued to reach out to her, hoping that she was listening, he turned his silver gaze back to the prone form of his friend. “Stay with us, Mauja.” Mesec lowered himself gingerly to the ground, crouching gingerly among Mauja’s legs in the minimal space that was around him - shifting so that his side pressed up against spotted hide. Perhaps his body heat could help revive their frozen friend. Though, he realized, even if Mauja did wake there was still not enough room in this cavern to actually do anything about an escape without help.
He kept his paws beneath him, supporting his weight so that he wouldn’t inadvertently cause more damage, and then he waited - silver eyes not leaving Mauja as he watched for more signs of life.
He remains sunken deep into the darkness, a place as near death as one can experience; everything has ceased to matter, become meaningless, for what, truly, is life without consciousness? Years could pass, slip by like currents in a river, and he would have nothing to remember them by—no vague recollection of his time comatose in a glacier, nothing but the dim, distant memory of falling into it, of slipping into chill-induced sleep, the embrace of shadow and snow. From there on until the time his eyes will open with clarity once more—nothing.
He turned thirteen years old in that glacier, just another birthday gone by unnoticed, another number notched in the scars on his bones; the only ones who remembers when he was born are far, far away, and here, well, he has never bothered to tell anyone about it.
Deeply unconscious, he doesn't know how lonely the moment was, how quickly it passed.
And had he known what his falling down here has caused, he would've withdrawn, pulled back into the shadows, ashamed that he had to be rescued—embarrassed that he pulled others from their tasks, from their lives. What is he to them? Why does he matter to them?
Black smoke—such an odd manifestation of life—creeps into his lungs.
And like ice flaking off, his frozen mind thaws.
(It's just like opening your eyes without opening your eyes, the most gentle twitch after you nodded off—the blue of your soul opening its eyes in the dark, but you don't see the world, because it was only your awareness waking up.)
He wasn't sure when it happened, he figured it was just like how he never knew the exact moment he fell asleep. It was only when you woke up again you knew that you had even slept at all (and thus, dying in your sleep would be terrible, because you wouldn't even know you had died), and—in a sense, it was like waking up from deep, deep sleep.
Content and laying in the sun.
For a moment, he believed it—for a moment, he could feel it, the wash of warmth across his skin, the brightness of the world beyond his closed eyelids, and the desire to stretch out where he lay upon the ground was overwhelming. To just push his hooves further out from his body, arch his back, tug his poll in the opposite direction from his dock, groan and sigh and flick his eyes open to another day.
He didn't do any of it, though. The black sludge lingered between him and his eyes, a dark cloud obscuring his body from himself, and for a time, he was content to lay in those murky waters. Waking from deep sleep could be slow.
He crossed a line. He crossed some incredibly invisible line. And suddenly he knew, it had taken too long.
Waking up wasn't this slow.
Waking up wasn't this silent.
He tried to scream. Nothing happened. He tried to bolt upright. Nothing happened. Frantic, he cast his mind into the darkness, flung it far out and wide, away from himself and into the void—and where sleepy souls should've greeted him with mild annoyance and underlying comfort, he found only silence. His mind panicked, but his heart kept beating too slow, too slow, so his brain fabricated the feel of a blood-rush, the sickening feeling of adrenaline, the drum-like noise in his ears, and thrust it upon his roving soul.
Fuck, because he was afraid, no no no no, because they'd almost been through this before. Exhausted even before he had begun, he missed them in the darkness and the silence. His mind flared bright for a moment, then collapsed; his soul tied itself into knots, because he had lost them—
The abyss opened up beneath him, and swallowed him whole.
And in the future laid out for him, barren and empty and a wasteland, he settled like dust upon it. Found its contours. Found their contours, small and smooth and snowed over. Deeper in the depths of unconsciousness than they had ever been before.
Stunned, shocked and confused, relieved and overjoyed, Mauja opened his eyes.
Saw a gigantic wolf. Understood nothing. Croaked out, "again?" in a brittle, dry voice, because he still remembered the weight of front paws upon his ribcage, and the snarl of hungry wolves roaming around his fallen body.
—you will choke, choke on the air you try to breathe.
11-03-2016, 10:05 PM (This post was last modified: 11-03-2016, 10:06 PM by Roskuld.)
Themes were a thing and one of them was happening at that moment even if I was too blinded by stupid silly shit running through my head to notice--my path blocked by all of Tembovu’s big ass, and suddenly I was swallowed by his shadow and his mass and his heat and everything, walking right into a wall of straight chest and muscle before I could realize what was happening. And it was like a thick blanket thrown over the bare wires of a sputtering socket, smothering them out, choking them from existence.Except this was me we were talking about and instead of taking a moment to calm the fuck down I was starting to burst out of all sense of decency.
*Ros, I don’t think you’ve found what you’re looking for, yet.*
I sputtered wordlessly for a second. “He’s--what are you talking about, he’s there, he’s in the ice, I found him, you found him, we found him--” I was yelling at his shoulder blade like it owed me money, doing my obstinate best to miss his point, “It’s not like--I can’t do any--I already did my--”
*If we get some rope, maybe we can hoist him up...Those who can fly might be of some use…*
And it didn’t matter that she couldn’t have possibly known that was a sore spot, a knife already lodged in my person that was seduced into a tighter twist. I guess, looking back, my Pa knew what he was doing by letting me grow up and find Sparkmarrow on my own instead of breaking it out of the storage glacier, dusting it off, and handing it to me as a tinier babe. I could see myself in my mind’s eye in that moment, super clear and static free, ripping Sparkmarrow from its sheath and throwing it at at her, herdmateship be damned.
What I ended up doing was giving a short bark of AwghAGHG at Tembovu’s clavical and zpsnk!ing out from his oppressive weight, disappearing in a small shower of spark and winking back into existence feet away, breathing hard and scowling like a thunderstorm but focused, because leaping through the sparklight apparently is enough to reset my head a little. Oh sure, the turbulent shit was still there--but it was held back at the moment, and the threat of it overwhelming me was delayed for...eh, at least right then.
I stomped back to the ledge, peering over and keeping my eyes on Mesec’s black smudge because looking at that pale body down below still hurt in a way I couldn’t reconcile. “We don’t have rope and we ain’t got the space for it,” I said, after considering the option without that rosy-gold lense of saltiness coloring the idea of it. Besides, there were only three two of us here who could fly, and only one who could be effective. Because, let’s face it, even if that short, slender-looking white chick could bear Lee’s weight along with Bro, I couldn’t imagine two fliers being able to fly side-by-side like that straight upwards carefully enough to draw the large body up from the depths.
My attention was caught back to Mesec, who mentioned that we needed Help with a weight that made me cringe inwardly. It was a power that I...well, I didn’t hate it but it never sat right with me to have that kind of clout by blood. Even as I watched, a seeping shadow crept around Lee’s body, and I knew that something was being done.
I swallowed my suggestion of calling for Pa. One god was bad enough, and besides, this wasn’t the kind of shit I would wanna call him for anyway.
Quit Hollerin' "Why God?", he ain't got shit to do with it.
That nobody thought to call her, especially given that her son was present, was a fact she would have to bring up later. For now, her mind was focused solely on the moronic Mauja-shaped icecube that was going to form if these idiots kept standing around talking about rope.
In a world of magic, with two demi-gods present, a King, and the only ascendant of the moon, and they were talking about rope.
Seriously.
The Goddess appeared without her normal flourishes of gothic mists or star-shine. One minute the air was empty, and the next it was inhabited by the lilac deity. She wasted no time in addressing those around her. Already enough time had been wasted with idle chatter.
Time to wake up, Mauja. She whispered into his mind. Her magical pulsed through the tentative line between wakefulness and the nearly coma-like slumber that had tarred the former Frostheart's mind. I did not grant you immortality so that you could use it as a means of running away. She whispered again, her voice sounding mildly soft and caring. And then, with a great deal more bite she added, If you want to kill yourself, and forsake this gift, come to me. Don't throw yourself into a glacier.
Magical hands gripped the Frozenlight, enveloping his body in a thick coating of star-mists that swirled around his frosty skin. Heat gradually began to flow back into Mauja's body, but slowly. Oh so slowly, for frostbite had likely already settled in, and to heat him up too quickly would cause agony. And the trouble with immortality, is that Mauja would be forced to live through it. Pulsing a dark and ominous shade of purple, the web of magic tightened and Mauja's body disappeared from within the depths of the glacial crack. In the next moment, he appeared next to the Goddess, still enveloped in a thick layer of magical smoke.
"A rope?" She said finally now that Mauja was safely above the ground. Her silvery gaze looked sternly at those assembled. "Really?"
Erthe’s flattened ears and purposefully askant gaze was not missed by the King—perhaps being denied thrice over was two times too many, the King belatedly realized. Yet the group’s focus was on finding the Frozen Light, not on preserving young mare’s mental states. But, still, the Elephant’s dark navy eyes watch her for a few moments, the directed barb at Roskuld about those who fly entirely escaping the King—as his flightless nature was a matter of circumstance. How could he take insult to something that his nature could not fix?
His attention shifted from the small, pearlescent mare to the stocky Sparklight that pressed into his chest and sputtering soundless words—words that ended abruptly with Erthe’s barb as Roskuld choked some wordless, irate sound and disappearing into a shower of sparks. The Elephant King grunted in surprise, gaze jerked to the movement of where Ros had reappeared. First Mesec had slipped into shadows, and now Ros could distinigrate into sparks? His brows raised, wondering yet again at their shared lineage, before being brought to the present by Ros’s angry stomping and tirade about ’rope.’
Truth be told, the King hadn’t exactly thought much on the fact of rope. His mind was more entrenched with the magic both Roskuld and Mesec had displayed. Perhaps his lack of urgency was because he knew that, no matter how long they took, Mauja would be alive. He would not die—could not die.
And then she appeared. The Moon Goddess, herself. His black brows rose, just as his thick horn dipped slightly in respect (though the King wasn’t entirely certain how much respect the Goddess held for any of those present). Idly, he wondered at how often he had recently found himself in the presence of the Goddess—but simply shook his head to clear such thoughts, because this moment was not about him.
It was about Mauja.
And the Frozen Light was wreathed in moon mist, pulled alongside the deity by her godly power. His navy gaze cannot help but to closely examine the frosted, speckled skin of his friend—a man he loved fiercely, yet their paths were tangled indeed. But he found too many angles in the usually smooth, silken coat. Too many bones protruding; the hollows above his gloriously icy eyes were deeply sunken— “Mauja,” the name was but a deep breath, spoken in shocked concern and unhappy surprise at seeing his friend so gauntly skeletal.
Slowly his attention shifted back to the Moon. “It indeed is a blessing that you came to our rescue, my Goddess,” his low voice finally rumbled in response to the stern look in the Goddess’s silver eyes. The smallest of unamused grins turning up the corners of his thick lips, coating his face in a mask—though the skin was creased around his navy eyes as he glanced towards Mesec, Roskuld, and Erthe in turn.
Roskuld disappeared in a storm of flashing light and reappeared moments later, away from the filly and the king. Something ugly twisted in her gut at the display, a dark and venomous blackness that found the sight of such powerful magic not wonderful or inspiring but merely insulting. What was she doing with abilities like that if she weren't going to use them for something? Surely if she was able to move herself so easily over the glacier then it would be a piece of cake to bring Mauja along, get him out of the hole he so accidentally must have tripped into (because it hadn't been on purpose, right?). If Erthë possessed even a fragment of that strength then she would not be talking about ropes, she would not have to stand there and listen while everyone rejected her.
For the first time, the powerful presence of the Goddess as She appeared to save the day did not bring a smile to the acolyte's face. She merely watched impassively as the Lady raised Mauja from his prison, awarding the gaunt, emaciated form a mere fleeting glance before she returned her attention to the Moon. What emotion there might be of shock and worry for the old Frostheart was drowned by seething anger, swept away for later observation on the tidal surge of hurt when the one person she always had been able to count on to make her feel better rejected Erthë once more, with a cutting, disapproving gaze that nearly destroyed her.
Rope? Really?
The child bristled, the final drop finally causing her temper to overflow. Pale feathers ruffled on the slender shoulders as if increasing her size might somehow make things better, as if keeping her head high or staring rudely back into the gleaming, eternal gaze of the goddess would somehow earn her points rather than make things worse.
"I am so sorry that my infantile suggestion disappoint you, my Lady. Clearly, since everyone else delivered such impressive alternatives, I do not seem to be needed here. If you will excuse me?"
Spinning around on the spot Erthë turned her back on the goddess and the others and tried to leave, back stiff with indignation and face burning hot enough to nearly show through the pale coat as she stomped away over the ice. It wasn't fair that she was the only one to get criticized, it wasn't cool at all when she had tried her best. But apparently her best was not even worth noting, everything she did sucked and her brain amounted to nothing more than a jiggling lump of jelly.
Screw them. Screw all of it.
ERTHË
I’m a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm
His eyes opened and then Mauja croaked out a single word - Mesec chuckled with relief, not understanding the meaning behind the word ‘again’ but not really caring. Although Mauja had been breathing and confirmed to be alive, the fact that he was waking enough to actually speak was incredible. Mesec’s silver eyes were soft and luminous with a smile as he found the blue of Mauja’s.
But before anything could be explained, his - or their - prayers had been answered. The Moon Goddess showed up - though Mesec didn’t notice her physical presence, unable to see clearly through the crack in the ice, but the swirling of star-mists where he lay with Mauja was unmistakable. Here his mother was, proving once more that her elusive soft side did exist - even if it was just reserved for a few particular individuals.
Right now he was just incredibly thankful for her presence and her assistance - there wasn’t likely going to be any other way they would have been able to get him out otherwise. He shifted against the cool sides of the glacier to allow his mother’s magic to do it’s work as it grasped Mauja and returned him to the surface.
A moment later, Mesec was following suit. In a swirl of darkness and shadows he disappeared from the crack in the glacier and reappeared on the surface - hopefully several feet away from everyone else. There he sat on the snow and watched as his mother reprimanded them all for their talk of rope, as Erthë started to leave. He wished to talk to her but now was probably not the time, and he wanted to wait and make sure that Mauja truly was saved. He was ready to move to the Frozen Light’s side if he should need assistance in standing, but hopefully everything would be fine now.
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