the Rift


[OPEN] I went blind for you

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#1
The smoke takes the Edge, and Yael flees, entirely too cognizant of the extra weight she carries - not just the burden of a child, but the iron mantle of guilt. Wherever the herd may go, she veers off, haste causing her to make dangerous, but calculated decisions. The babe is still small, perhaps at the point where one might just wonder if she’s gorged herself, but Zani… Zani is the problem. “Xold on tight, love” she tells him, inviting him to cling to the glass chain which hangs about her neck, to dig his claws into her skin (Yael deserves the pain, she deserves all of it), and she, in turn, will be so very careful.

It is, nevertheless, a harrowing journey. For both of them. She offers a thousand apologies to the kitten along the way, for this is a thing she must do, and he cannot be left behind. Some of it he understands, but the rest of her emotions are frenetic, jumbled even, as she cycles through determination and guilt, anger and despair and defiance over and over again.

They land in the Marsh, the only other place Yael can think to go. The altar rises before the pair, glowing markings taunting her with Peace and Kaos will save etched into the obelisk. Adonai, if she were the spitting type, she would! And yet, even in her anger, she is somewhat restrained - perhaps that is her major flaw (well, one of many) - that she did not stand up and demand an answer (but then, how does one demand anything of a God? He didn’t even show when she returned to the Veins) for his deceptive actions. And to bring her into it? He’d made her a pawn, a vessel for him to use, when he’d scorned the very same actions of the Helovian Gods. He’d bribed her with Zani, and like the desperate woman that she was, she fell for it. Hook. Line. Sinker.

“Kaos!” she screams into the empty air, which is sure to be filled with angry Helovians soon. “Xow ees zis peace? You take our xomes - for vhat? To vin against some ozer Gods? Xeepocrite!” Her breath comes ragged now, anger turning into bitter, self-loathing tears.Bevakasha, Ka-os! Atsor! Every action makes her complicit, every death will weigh heavy on her soul, and Adonia, she has too many deaths to own up to already.

If she survives whatever is to come, how will she be able to live with herself? "Please don't make me reegret vhat I've done..." she whispers into the silence, her real confessed to the only one who truly has any power left.

Yael


a lover of the light

Image



Bevakasha, Ka-os! Atsor! = Please, Kaos! Stop!

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

Ki'irha Posts: 176
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Noella
#2
K I ' I R H A


So much was happening. She had tried to return home, tried to fall into the confines of the Basin, and all that had waited was darkness. In her desperate attempts at escape, she had barely slipped free from the steppe, kicking up frozen soil and freezing snow as she abandoned the north, left behind her pines and her mountains, left behind her family. She had crossed the plains, across many lands, and no matter how hard she looked, couldn’t find her children. She couldn’t find Mesec. Panic clouded her judgement, sharpened her edges, churned her calm and controlled spirit, forcing her into wild eyes and tangled mane, tossed by the wind that whipped past her as she thundered south.

It was here she had found Mesec so many weeks ago. It was here that she had remembered. It was here that his warm touch had set her ablaze, sent her spiraling, pushed her into territory she would have never assumed she would fall into. But how could one foster the smallest ounce of desire, of love, when the world was ending?

She had heard of the altar, listened to whispers of the god Kaos, and she needed to place herself within ground zero, hope to find an answer, pray that her children and their father would be waiting. There was no reason they would be here. But in her panic she just needed to see, to hear, to learn, to beg, try to ensure that they would be spared.

A voice rings out, and the blue girl slows her pace to a canter, but still continues on, silver eyes flashing, ears twisting. Words she doesn't understand cut through the air, and someone has beat her to this place. She slows as a form appears, her muscles tight, ears pinned, anger coursing through her. For eons, gods have unleashed power and punishment and meaningless death. But when it touched upon her, upon them, upon the countless souls who lived upon this world, somehow it seemed personal. She tried to quell her fevered spirit, hoped that maybe she could find answers.

She prowls forward, a warrior placed upon long legs, gifted a sword to swing, and words to bite. Perhaps everything her father had put her through, all of her training, all of her sharpness, could finally be put to good use. But she finds comfort in knowing that another has already come here, and she stops several paces away. “What is happening?” she begins, holding her voice steady, keeping her external composure calm, even though every nerve is alight. Her stormy eyes seek out the woman’s brown gaze. “I don't have any idea what is unfolding, other than what I have seen with my own eyes. Our gods, have they really gone?”

The world seems quiet around them, and for a moment she looks past the woman, at the onyx pillar, at the runes engraved upon it. When Mesec had found her, is this what he was looking for? Had he come from here? Had he known something?

“My family could be in danger because of this,” she says, and her voice shakes ever so slightly. She contains her tears, begs her racing heart to calm, pushes down the nauseating fear that threatens to pour over. “I cannot find them. Please, tell me what you know. Maybe I can help stop it. Maybe there is something I can do. If whatever is happening has hurt them, has kil-“ finally she chokes, expression twisting for a moment with fear, unable to say it.

But despite her inability to say it, she couldn’t help but see it, burning and blazing in her mind's eye, their broken forms laying in a haze, unmoving, lifeless, and the knowledge that she would be alone again. Knowing that maybe should could have protected them.

She couldn't be alone again.




How rare and beautiful
it truly is that we exist



image credits


@Yael ~
[Image: 5581b91112f69]
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo

Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#3



Across the land, chased by darkness, and trailing the whisps of life. It seemed…other worldly, nightmareish. It should be a celebration, a garden of eden….He had a family, twins, born pure and bright, of a mate he gave his whole heart, who took it, broken and all. They should have the world at their hoof tips, laughing and racing through the lands like the princes they were, fearing nothing but the end of the full day. Instead they were refugees, tossed about in a world of politics, and wars having nothing to do with them…and there was nothing he could do.

It burned. It starved. It woke him. It haunted him. So that he was here, away from those he protected. Not far, never far, but distanced, to keep the weary nerves and burning anger from their sight. So that left him here. The altar of Kaos. Earth eyes trace the carvings and high risen lines of monument. The gold want bristling enough to be angry, to kick and the stone, but his worn mind and soul only looks on with detestation. But he was not a fool…much as in this moment he wished to be. Many dark days had he seen this world, but never darker than this. No hour felt heavier. It wouldn’t be long…whatever mystical battle was being fought, victors rarely stayed silent long. No…it wouldn’t be long.

The gold’s meditation was broken by the sounds of others. For not the first time he cursed his missing cloak, but none-the-less slide behind the altar soundlessly into the shadows. A scream rings across the doomed air. The strange twisted words are easy enough to recognize….Yael. The mare, so kind and gracious who had lead his still very pregnant Hotaru into safety (God, remember when that was a thing?). Her words break his memory, and give a dark brooding to his low anger.

He steps out to ask, but another voice cuts in just as quick. The gold catches his breath, letting it slowly hiss out. How had he not heard them? That voice though…it is familiar, though he can name it not. Family, she seeks her family. The gold chokes down the sickness of his own worries. They are safe. Haldir is with them. He would tell. But he can’t help but hold a grudge at the newcomer for her topic of choice.

The gold can stand it no more. Crowned head high, the Laureline silently steps from behind the altar, his gait slow and steady. Earth eyes find Yael, nodding, then to the other….Ki’irha. Good gods, had it been that long. Age did not wound her beauty, but her life had taken toll on her soul, weighing down her shoulders and whipping her till there were lines under her eyes of grief and pain. “All of Helovia is being pushed by the fog…perhaps they…” It is the only veiled comfort he can give. If her family lived, there was chance yet to see them. It was also a veiled attempt to get her off the tender subject.

But then he tilts his head, the silver crown shifts, still bearing the blackened burned strand from Ophelia, as he turns to Yael. Questions unasked…Earth eyes linger…asking without saying a word….then the whole head shakes, shaking away the dust of the dim mood. He turns back to Ki’irha with a Cheshire grin. “Come now though Star-atlas, since when does a warrior of the north, kept by the wolves, yield to panic and despair.”  No matter how deep his mood, when the world was ending, the gold would ever be finding something to grin at. “Besides,” He turns back to Yael “peace is ever so boring.” It was a lie as golden as they come, but that lie, he needed for himself.





@Yael
@Ki'irha

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#4
How Yael managed to miss the horned stallion behind the altar is really quite remarkable, but perhaps she was entirely too preoccupied with her own mess of feelings to pay attention to anything except the altar and the speech she intends to deliver to Kaos (regardless of whether or not he actually hears it). A woman wearing a skin of stars is not far behind her, and for a moment her thoughts flash back to Serenity, but no, it is not her. This mare is silver and stars, there is no sun in her stormy eyes. It seems to the Seer that this one has the intent of a warrior, but there is little that can intimidate her right now. At least she comes only with questions, challenges held behind a nearly overflowing dyke.

Yes, she knows the feeling, she can see it in the star-woman’s eyes; fear, confusion, anger - all in the name of love for one’s family. Yael knows exactly what she’s going through, and her heart softens from it’s original rankling at the intrusion (which is ridiculous, surely they’ll all be flocking here soon). “Yes,” she begins, unable to hide the bitterness in her voice, “ze Gods are gone. Kay-os xas come to take Xelovia, eet seems.” She pauses, hearing her own words and shakes her head a bit. “I am sorree you xaf to find out zis vay.” And then a sharp laugh, perhaps too harsh, too swift to even pretend to be nice. “Unless you can fight a God, I do not t’ink you can xelp. Ve vere po’erless against xeem before, eet ees not likely zat xas changed.”

Zani rebukes her, digging his claws in with a little growl. He sends her a picture of her dragon-self, and Yael visibly winces. Yes, she’s being the dragon bitch right now. No, she doesn’t feel like she has time to babysit someone who’s very clearly lost and confused about everything. But he is that good part of her soul, and so she relents and surrenders herself. In a softer tone, she begins again. “Xoo ees your familee? Perxaps I know t’em.” Perhaps she can help. Perhaps not… it will all be chaos soon, anyway.  

Thranduil materializes from behind the altar, and after a curious glance, the golden woman must bite back a scowl. How long had he been there, lingering? Listening? But the Laurelin, too, has a family, and she wonders why he isn’t with them, until his blithe words make her want to snap and snarl. He doesn’t understand. None of them understand, and they can’t ever, because that would be her crucifixion at the hands of the righteous and innocent. Yael wants to ask him if he’s seen whole kingdoms burn in dragonfire, watched dear ones go limp and die in front of his eyes. She wants to hold up a mirror to his masculine ignorance, but she has no tools save her words. And so with a derisive scoff, the petite mare turns to the altar and reaches to touch the engraved words. “And yet eet ees vhat xe promised. Xere - ve xad xoped - ”

Adonai, they were all right. He was not to be trusted. But even if she hadn’t read the words and spread them ‘round… all of this still wouldd have happened. she is an ant in the grand scheme of things. This was the gods’ fight, and they would be the casualties.

“Vhen you xaf vatched your loved vones die because of var, t’en tell me xow boreeng peace ees.”

Yael


a lover of the light

Image


Uhhhh idk what this shite is, but here you go. Let the drama ensue XD
@Ki'irha
@Thranduil

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

Ki'irha Posts: 176
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Noella
#5
K I ' I R H A


There is a harshness in her voice, a surprising curtness, and Ki’irha’s ears twist ever so slightly, the only hint she gives at how her skin burns beneath her pelt, how anger bubbles within her chest, how she wishes to snap something back. But it is the laughter which cuts the deepest, slicing through the ties holding back her own tongue, and she retorts, voice smooth as honey, but containing a cool chill. “My apologies for asking you anything at all. Seeing as how you’re out here screaming at a pillar, the only tangible existence I could find of this Kaos, I assumed perhaps you knew more than I. I apologize for not knowing the ins and outs of this whole thing, as I’ve heard nothing but rumors, and rumors tend to contain a fair bit of truth as well as fiction. I came here, looking for answers, and instead I found you.” Her mind travels to the illnesses that had plagued Helovia, to the great gods that had emerged from the Rift, at the confusion that had breached the surface of their peace, and remembered proudly how the people of this land had overcome and conquered. “We have fought gods in the past. Terrible sacrifices were made, but we overcame. Things are different, now, of course, that our deities have fled, and I’m not reckless enough to charge head on at something that I know nothing about. Certainly I am not daft enough to assume that I could ever take on the power of a god alone.”

The golden mare’s demeanor seems to shift, to calm, to ebb, and the starlit woman notices. Perhaps fear has tainted the other’s words, perhaps whatever was hiding within the shadows had begun to get the best of her, or maybe she is always a bitch. Still, she may offer the slightest bit of help, and for that, Ki’irha would be grateful, so she relents as well. “I seek my daughter, Vesper, my son, Virga, and their sire, Mesec. They hale from the World’s Edge. Virga, he has been missing for a while, but I know that Vesper and her father have been seen recently.” She falls quiet, hoping that her inquiries were not met with the same abrupt and bitter tones as her last questions, but it was foolish to hope such things during such a dire time.

Slipping from the shadows, buried beneath the landscape, always managing to be inconspicuous despite his brilliant golden frame and threatening crown, the Laurelin is, for a fleeting moment, a sight for sore eyes. He is a wolf, cunning and sharp and shaped by the mountains, as she had once been. He had been Lord, King, her fearless leader, and at a time, a time which somehow seemed so many lifetimes ago, she would have followed him to the ends of the earth. Perhaps she still would. Perhaps, despite everything else that had happened, she could still be what the Basin had made her. She had always felt that, always known that above all else, she was a warrior, a predator, a sword to be swung, a sacrifice to be made. She shifts ever so slightly, holding her crown above the devastation, and she knows that his words ring true. “Thranduil,” she murmurs with a smile, dipping her head in respect, for no matter how they had both left the great north, he would always be her king. Her smile fades, and her face sobers. “A wolf still cries at the loss of her pups. And it’s hard to brandish teeth or a sword when you don’t know what you’re fighting. Which is why I came here.” The conversation comes full circle as she gestures to the altar, and watches the pegasus reach out to touch the engravings.

The Laurelin and she were warriors, one in the same, willing to run into battle, leaving home behind them, knowing that they would either return home victorious, or find their places settled with the stars. They were the peacekeepers, the violent pawns, the forces that tried until their last breaths were taken to protect all that was worth protecting. She knew what his words meant, but they were just as easily misunderstood. She looks back to the mare, and somehow, deep within her breast, she feels compassion instead of anger. “You know not what I have seen, who I have lost,” she began, but her words lacked any venom, any spite. “Just as I do not know what you have endured. We know where we belong, what part we play in all of this. We are willing to be the sacrifices made. My family, my loved ones, I would charge right into death’s waiting jaws if I knew it would keep them safe.”

She shrugs ever so slightly, knowing that many would not understand, and even she wasn’t sure what made her so willing to spill her blood as payment for anyone else. It was as she had always been, as she always would be. “Besides, we aren’t even sure what we’re up against. Perhaps the gods are handling this. The gods have existed long before us. Should the world end in darkness, in fire, in blinding light, we will all die together. So maybe none of this matters anyways. Not this shrine, not our worries, not our banishment. We are only mortal, and should never expect to be treated as more than that by the gods. What is going to happen will happen, but if I have any choice in the matter, I want to be ready. I refuse to stand idly by.”



How rare and beautiful
it truly is that we exist



image credits

@Yael @Thranduil ~
[Image: 5581b91112f69]
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo

Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#6



The tail end of their conversation catches him, as well as the names he knew. Mesec…He stored the information…tucking it away as he appeared.

Yael’s building anger goes unnoticed for a moment as earth eyes find his old comrade friendly. He smiles to her, as he hears his name. Not many who were in the Basin at the time he ruled did speak with such kindness back towards him. Of course not that he minded….but it was nice to see someone not ready to chew his head off for his departure. To her words he only nods. He was usually the one others could not find to fight, so perhaps that is why he could cope. The gold was after all the keeper of shadows. Who better to understand how to fight them, and the benefits it held. Perhaps it wasn’t exactly honorable….there were those, like Deimos (God what would he think of this mess), who found great distaste for the gold’s….methods. But even he admitted they worked. Yes, the gold knew. How could you defend your family from a fog?

Then Yael breaks her silence. Narrow eyes turn to the golden creature, watching her in a stillness of unsure meanings. He looks to the alter seeing the carvings. Earth eyes wandering over them momentarily, then looking back to her. “Promises of peace are like flowers, dreamed of for months, but fated to wither in a day.” Or more likely to be crushed upon by others. The gold hisses bitterly, his tone having fallen again. Resentment against the gold mare grows. Here he had rallied one, pulled from the depths of their moaning to remember themselves. Not a kindness he rarely gave, and she still reveled in her bitterness. Letting it consume, and devour her fight.

Then she went too far. Far too far. Harks pin and immediately the gold changes. Teeth bare and head lowers in anger, rolling a snarl like beast awoken. How dare she. How dare she! “How dare you...” It was raw, cracked, with no effort to smooth or conceal. He had watched worse. He knew fates worse than the death of a loved one. And she…she had looked at his smooth unwounded face and remained blind to the scars still scoring his body beneath his shirt, barely scabbed over….still stinging in the night… Tasseled tail whips his hips, and he steps forward. Darkness and threats rolling from him. But now it was the StarAtlas’s turn to save them.

Her words halt him. They do not change him, but they halt him. She keeps talk and he draws back his teeth and snaking head, pulling it slowly up as the mare keeps talking. His eyes never leave the gold mare…not forgiving her. Only when the old comrade pauses, does the gold break his burning stare to look upon the ground, before up to the warrior. The gold would have understood. After all he was here, at the gates of world end cracking a smile….and he would go into battle like that…and he would die like that. As she talks on the gold looks back to the golden mare, his eyes still hard and unforgiving.

“There are worse things in this world...” It tries to cut, to needle and burn, but it gives him away too. It sounds of ashes, splinters, and cracked glass. Seeking and speaking some wound for the one she laid upon him. He snorts, trying to pull away from the dark place she’d pulled him back to. “War is indeed nothing to laugh at, but I’ll not have it keep me and mine in a world of famine at the lack of -” Hope. Life. Laughter. Love. A cloven hoof stomps, but it rings silently. “Someone has to turn on a damn light around here.”






@Yael
@Ki'irha

[Image: 5381546acbe33]
Feel free to use any force/magic on Thranduil, short of killing him.
Please tag in every post.
Ask Thranduil any question in the world, he'll be forced to answer on his profile. PM with your question.

Yael Posts: 186
World's Edge Seer atk: 7.5 | def: 11 | dam: 2.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.2 :: 39 - appears 8 HP: 63.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Zani :: Serval :: None Astor
#7
He misunderstands. Bitterness is not the root cause of her anger, it is fear. And sadness. And dread at what is to come.  

“I dare because I xaf leeved almost xalf a ceentury, she spits back, revealing the one thing she’s never told anyone the whole truth of. All those years - of loving and living and watching the world pass in front of her, without so much as a wrinkle. Of burying children and grandchildren and feeling utterly helpless - because as it turns out, magic doesn’t fix everything, even when we want it to. A fire rises in her eyes, while patches of fur begin to shift to scales - the outline of a dragon appears, and with a guttural growl, she forces it back down, resuming her own unremarkable appearance. She breathes as deeply as she can, eyes closed until she can regain her composure. “Because I xaf lost everyt’ing I xad before, and xees promise of peace gave me... somet’ing.” What else can she say… her jaws work, but nothing comes out, because ultimately,  it just doesn’t seem important, or perhaps just too long for them to begin to understand. Yael falls silent.

When she does start again, it is on a completely different topic. As if her outburst had never happened, as if Ki’irha hadn’t lectured her with a novel, and the Laurelin didn’t look at her with cold, hard eyes. It is all so irrelevant, except, perhaps, for what she is about to say. “I vas ze Edge’s Seer, eet ees my understandeeng zat ze Gods are unable to… fix zis. Ze Eart God left ze Falls, and Time looked like xe vas simming against ze current for days. Ze Goddess said xe lied, so I can onlee assume xe xas maneepulated t’em. Ka’os ees... an amalgamation of ze Reeft Gods, vhatever zat means… xe seems to xaf all t’eir powers, or somezing like zat.” She looks at the altar, remembering when it rose up, and the bone monster they unwittingly delivered to him.

Vhen ve last fought xeem, xe xad a Bone Monster zat ze Mageecs could not touch. Impenetrable. Unstoppable. Everyvone, all ze varriors tried, but eet vas useless.” She looks to the two now, calm and collected and solemn.Zat ees vhat ve are up against. Eef eet comes to var, vich eet surely vill, ve are figtheeng een ze dark. Do not t’row yourself needlessly avay.” She knows the worse things Thran speaks of, and she would rather not let any of them come to pass. This fight here, amongst the three of them (or rather, the two of them against her) is nothing more than a distraction, and way to let off some steam and air their frustrations. Her head turns to the star-mare. “I xaf seen Mesec recently, and I t’ink Vesper. But Virga… I am sorree, I am not fameelear vit xeem… I am sure zey are vit ze rest of ze Edgers vhen ve fled ze cliffs...”  

Hopefully Gaal is with them, too. Otherwise her son will never know his father.


Yael


a lover of the light

Image



@Ki'irha  
@Thranduil

Please only tag in starter posts, or if the thread is getting dusty
Force and magic allowed, no death please

Ki'irha Posts: 176
Outcast atk: 4.5 | def: 9.0 | dam: 6
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15hh :: 5 years old HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Noella
#8
K I ' I R H A


Thranduil is right, and she understood. But he is as lost as the lot of the. Thievery could not steal back the time they had lost, that they were losing. Eyes turn back to the now announced Seer, and she remains silent during the lesson, and found it easy enough to set aside the raw emotions in order to learn anything she could.

She nods her head, listening silently. A seer was an impressive thing to be, and she had always held the upmost respect for those who communed with the gods. Well that was it, then. There was no more wondering, no more wishing, no more praying. The gods were gone. The world was spinning out of control. There was nothing they could do. It had been made clear so many years ago when they had vanquished the rift gods, that gods certainly could be killed. How were their own gods any different? What made them invincible?

“I appreciate your words.” Silent again, she mulled her words, wondering if a snarl would erupt from the Laurelin’s lips, or if he would find some sort of distorted peace at the answer. There was nothing they could do. Any attempts at battle would be futile. There was nothing that any of them would be able to do to stop this.

And that only meant one thing.

The golden mare answers her questions, every last one, and though her heart breaks knowing that Virga is still gone, she finds solace knowing that there was a good chance her daughter and Mesec were in the same place. It would make finding them easier. She just hoped she had time to find them, to spend those final moments together, hopefully completing the thing that had broken in her absence. Perhaps she would confess to something barely there, to simply make the moment more perfect, before they all finally ceased together. At least they would go together.

“Thank you for your answers. But in the desire state of affairs, it is time for me to take my leave. What little time there is left will be better spent by their sides. Safe travels, Seer of the Edge.” She turns her head, moving towards the Laurelin, bowing her head again. “And to you, farewell, it has always been a pleasure, and honor.”

There was so much more to say, but she couldn’t spare the breath. She turned, moving from the altar, moving away from the tragic meeting. She needed to find her family. She needed to find them fast. No matter what stood between her and them, she would overcome, if it only meant seeing them one more time.

As quickly as she had appeared, the StarAtlas vanished, flying as fast as she could upon cloven hooves, heading home one last time.



How rare and beautiful
it truly is that we exist



image credits

@Yael @Thranduil ~
Taking her leave. ;_; And this will probably be her final post. See you all on the other side!
[Image: 5581b91112f69]
Colored by Kels ♡
Lines by Bronzehalo

Please Tag Me ○ Permission for magic and injury is granted. Just no death or permanent harm.

Thranduil the Laurelin Posts: 598
Outcast atk: 5.5 | def: 11 | dam: 6.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.2 hh :: Eight HP: 77 | Buff: ENDURE
Haldir :: Common Cerndyr :: Dark Mist Hawk
#9



She yells back spitting, firey, and his blood burns with a lustful desire for it. He wants to shout, he wants to drag it out. He is ready to have it out, but she lets slip too much too. And with the northern warrior talking, the gold leaves her unanswered. Yet her confessions do not go unmissed. It presses his soul, silencing his tongue against her further. He watches her body, flinch and shift….His harks fall back. I didn’t feel right, but then again, when had that ever stopped him. The gold inhales slowly, letting the gears click and store.

Then it’s gone. Like it was never there. He resents it all the more. Weeks of waiting on edge…of shifting in shadows…he was ready to fight. It was foolish, and idiotic, and he knows it. That is why he was here, and not in direct contact with his sons…and mate.

The gold lets himself be nulled by the speeches. Lets the gold mare speak, learning more details than Rikyn let slip. His mind turns to calculation, planning, and thinking. If their magic could not touch it…He breaks her words. “Kaos is proud and vain. He seeks power, but he seeks devotion too.” His crowned head turned to the altar. “That is why he promises-“ The gold glances to the gold mare “-and lies.” The gold should know. “He will not destroy all, or there’d be no one to stand at his altar.” But he can destroy much….freedom…love…family….

She’s leaving. His face visibly twists, revealing how much comfort a piece of past brought him. “Ki’irha…” It whispers. The gold turns to face her, but he knows her reason…he feels it too. She looks to him, speaking her good-byes. The gold rumbles a return….unable, in his spirals of feelings to say much more, least he reveal too much.

Crowned head then turns back to who is left. His tasseled tail shifts…this was awkward. But then….maybe not so much. He still resents her…but her struggles are not too far from his own. “Peace is not given in promises…” The gold looks to the altar again. “It is made….in your heart.” Earth eyes, with dark gold flecks look directly to her. But he never was too good at this whole comfort thing. “Gilded tongues are too numerous to trust any else.”

Now it is his turn. He moves to leave, but he must walk past her. The gold pauses next to her. He was too proud to apologize, too wounded to remind her. Instead in a rare moment, the gold reaches out, attempting to touch the mare’s shoulder, if she would allow. If not, he’d have simply reached out. “You can’t find your peace screaming at a rock.” He shifts, not even his mask could hide this was not his usual place. ”But you can by a love’s side, or in a night’s sleep.” He waits… ”Those look few and far between in the future….but they promised tonight.” They were going the same way, he assumed…even given his resentment to her, her pain was not far from his, though it came at different times and forms. So he waits, letting his words rest like a question, a suggestion…


OOC:: Just a note, he knows she's prego/has been prego, so the suggestion is not sex, but to leave the altar for the night. XD





@Yael
@Ki'irha

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