the Rift

No place like home [- HERD MEETING -]

Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath Whit



... ...Thwump.

The sound vibrated against the leaves. The mists of the lands seemed restless, they swirled and moved with a nervous activity, if one knew how to read them right, they stirred in joy, for they knew their queen was returning. The wind rustled through the leaves, and though the mists longed to linger, they obeyed the winds' breezy commands and cleared a space for the beast that would land soon. There was a savage desperation in the air, a fatigued, tortured, and determined need to return home. There was also an undeniable glee, a joy in knowing that one's freedom was obtained, that only a few more beats of her mighty wings would bring her back to those she loved, those she lived for, cared for, those who had continued growing strong in her absence.



... ...Thwump.

It was a gruelling task, for the mare had eaten only enough to survive for the past half season, living in fear that whatever she ate would contain that untraceable poison that had made her prone to being captured in the first place. It had taken this long for her to gain enough of a hold upon her Dark magic to transform - and she was in no hurry to shed this illustrious, golden body, her dragon form, that spewed forth fire in sheer jubilance as she spied the outline of the pointed, rocky outcropping that signified her home. A deep, echoing yowl was called across the sea that she strained over, and she pushed herself onwards, her golden companion, Akaith, calling out in joy too.

That was when it began.. A trickling, tingling sensation in the back of her mind. It was familiar, and as soon as she recognised it, she grasped for it, reaching out with all the powers of her mind and ensnaring that which she had lost during her time captive in the Basin. "Akaith!" The word was shouted out loud and from her mind simultaneously, and when the dragon made a returning caw, and from within her mind, a similar exclamation of Mirage!, the duo knew their bond had been restored. What had caused the numbness? The same poison that had removed her ability to access her magic? Or the puzzling eclipse she had woken to while in the Basin?

Had the eclipse been caused by.. Her? Had her capture, her despair, caused the strange phenomenon? Had others been affected? Perhaps she would ask Hellena about it, perhaps she would seek counsel with her patron Goddess once again, perhaps she would not bother with either - for why did it matter, when it was restored now?! Filled with a new energy burning through her, the dragon danced with her smaller counterpart, allowing her flight to rise and fall playfully, but nothing compared to the mental embrace of one's souls reconnecting after having a lifetime's bond muted by an exterior force. If one could visualise their souls, they would be encompassing one another again, melded so close together - perhaps closer than they had been before - one could hardly tell that they were two separate entities.

Never again shall I depart from you, my beloved.

They didn't know exactly who had started the thought, but both of them finished it, and both relaxed in the familiar embrace of the other's connection. A snort of smoky air left the large dragon, as she refocussed upon the rock before her. Angling her flight, she focussed her sharp gaze upon the grounds, seemingly parting the mists, seeking out those she knew, those who would welcome her. Such faith she did have, to know that they would be there, to know that they would have stood strong against whatever might have challenged them in her absence. She was furious at the Basin, for so many sins they had committed; her capture being one of them, the capture of many of her kin being another, and even the way they treated their own - a thought was spared for Xanthos - caused a scaly frown to form upon her draconic façade.

A deep and rumbling call left her gullet now, as she descended upon the loam, alighting her muscly bodice near the edge of the cliff, but east upon her territory, near the borders. The area by this particular stretch of cliffs was reasonably bare, aside from the deep gauges that now ran into the earth where she had landed. Being fatigued, it was unsurprising that her landing wasn't as perfectly crafted as it normally would have been.

Lashing her tail over the cliffside, she called again, a dragonsong that resonated across her home, calling those who would call her their leader to come, and tell her their tales.

[ This is a herd meeting meant for Herd Members only.
Could those in Tier 2 and up please inform Mirage of the goings-on.
This is set after Lace v Deimos spar, so please keep in mind we are pending Judge's verdict on that before filling Mirage in ^^
Mirage is in her dragon form for this.

Also, some rank changes may be announced in this meeting! ]

Torasin Posts: 132
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 8
[Image: xmastortable.png]

Torasin & Kiba

His voice came in like a familiar echo in the back of his mind. Something thought long lost in the cruel twist of fate and forever they were destined to live in silence. Horse and dragon, so close together yet so far away. Tears welled into the green eyes of the topaz steed as a comet of intense hues lit the sky in magnificent glory, burning away all thoughts of despair and sadness. The mass of feelings, Kiba's internal fight to communicate with his bonded so clear now in the mind of Torasin. Images, like wishes of a past to return, show a happy sun with a flicking tail. Merry dances they once did in perfect unison. It came with no warning and the tears of sheer happiness shed from honest eyes, a voice of questionable tones crept into his mind. So quiet with an awe of wonder and a hint of freight. For what would Kiba do if his bonded didn't reply?


A jolt of joy and relief went through Torasin's being, he could hear him!


Horse and dragon fused into a dance of ecstatic celebration, a colourful trilling filling the air as the duo spent a few minutes revelling in their reunion of minds. They both remembered the faces of Lace, Fajira, Ophelia and Tinek as they had gathered in their confusion to understand what was happening. Torasin hoped their bonds had returned too and another question crept into his mind. Did Mirage and Akaith loose their connection too? Wherever they were. It was hard to imagine, that their bond would have been affected too. So close for so long.

As if summoned by his thought, another seeming miracle happened. A song of dragons echoed across the land, it came from a mare of golden scales and large wings. A call that Torasin had been longing to hear since the day she disappeared, since the day those racist unicorns saw fit to exact their revenge. Was the unicorn he had met upon the snowy wastes of the arch of this very same band. Should the Advocate taken him in for questioning? It didn't seem right to do so at the time and even now the healer thought he made the right decision. Assumptions could be deadly indeed at a time like this, Torasin had to be sure.

Flickers of painted white and gold ran alongside a blur of brown as the pair made for Mirage and Akaith. Friends once lost but found once more, it made Torasin wonder. Had Lace and the company that went with him, returned in good health? So many worries that needed to be laid to rest. He begged, that today be a great day.

His gallop slowed to a trot as he sighted his leader upon the cliff, eyes still shedding tears of joy. Mostly from the sight of her now. Kiba had sped off in glorious flight and joined Akaith with a trill of warmth, like a child returning to his mother. The brown held the golden one with the highest respect as he should, but there was also a lot of affection there for the older dragon who had been around for all his young months. A few seconds later Torasin had made his way to the imposing form of an old friend, pushing his nose into hers in an affectionate greeting. "Mirage. So lonely it is without your presence, ma'am. I am sorry I wasn't their to stop them... To help you." His gentle voice was full with emotion and self shame. He wanted to melt into a pool of words, to tell her everything he had felt during her absence. But this was a herd meeting, he would not embarrass her such in front of her followers.

Instead he relayed what he knew to the best of his ability. Most of it was worried questions. "The herd has grown slowly in your absence ma'am. I fear we may have to double our efforts towards the Threshold in hopes of catching more members." his face turned to something more troubled. Green eyes looked to his leader now "I have not seen Lace in some time either, ma'am, I worry about his whereabouts and if his health is good. I have also heard your sister has had some luck in hunting one of our enemy. I, however, have not had chance to see their face."

The last sentence was had the most hope in it. Torasin wished he could offer more, but the herd had been quiet whilst she had been prisoner, and the paint had been troubling himself over the disappeared bond between himself and Kiba. "Something strange happened when you were gone, milady. I couldn't communicate with Kiba at all, it troubled me more than I should have let it. Did, you and Akaith, experience anything of a similar nature?"

Kiba had returned to Torasin's back by then and he too wondered the same thing.

salamander-stock | venomxbaby | Elevit-stock |

Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan

before the sun sets

They were still alive.

Somehow, through some miracle, they found themselves stumbling through the mist-veiled forest that was their home. Bleeding, dirty, tired beyond belief with a feeling that something had been stolen from them - a sense of pride and quite possibly the passing of some future years. It was the price he payed for standing up to the Reaper - and in a way, the fact that they were still breathing reassured them.

Every tired step they took was agony. Blood painted the coat of the shoulders, drying and cracking on their path from jagged tears in skin and flesh, beading on the edge of bruises like crimson gems - but it was the cold on the inside that worried the stallion most, and the limp, weak form of the dragon he carried on his back. Every now and then he had to stop and freeze, listening and forcing all his senses to perceive her; worrying, waiting until he confirmed that she was still breathing. They would not realize the clearing of the bond for some time yet. Fajira was unconscious, Lace's thoughts filled with agony and worry; they were already merged once more, but in the weakened state they were in the pair they had no strength left to wonder, rejoice or celebrate.

Not even when the voice of a dragon called out over the land could they muster more than a faint sense of relief. Slow and unsteady on the legs the battle weary stallion altered the direction and began heading towards the sound of his Queen, longing to make sure she was alright, to see her again. Confusion over her return despite the fact that the delegation to bring her home had yet to leave could wait until later; everything could wait till later.

It was but a shadow of the normally so strong and well-kept Glazier that stepped out from the protective embrace of the woods. Tired, stained with blood and with eyes dull from the brush against death, carrying a fainted dragon over the back, the smile that stretched the lips upon beholding the golden dragons seemed painful. Without speaking, without thinking he walked across the grass-clad rocks and reached out his nose to touch the scaled neck of his Queen and friend - as if to make sure that she actually was there.

"Mirage. You're home, aren't you...Thank the gods. Thank goodness you're alri..." The words died on his lips as he spotted an ugly stain upon her shoulder, charred and dull and with a scent of blood. Her blood. Lace's expression immediately darkened, and in complete disregard for his own weakened state he began to look the dragon over to see if there were more injuries covering her body.

"Who hurt you?" he growled once assured that this was the only wound to mar her beauty. "I swear, if this is the world of those Basin rats, I'll..." The words were made incomprehensible as the grulla muttered them behind gritted teeth, but the ill natured language and foul curses would surely have shocked those around had they heard them. It wasn't exactly a mood common to him, slow to show both anger and sadness as he was.

"Do you know anything about Solstice?" he asked Mirage once he had begun to calm down, stepping back with some difficulty to give her space and allow others to come forth should they need to greet her welcome home in the same way as him. "We went to the land of the racist scum some time ago to bring her and others back, but with little success. All our attempts to steal her back to us have failed, their watch on her is too tight for us to penetrate. I'm sorry Mirage, we tried; but in the end our numbers aren't great enough to stand up to Aurora Basin on our own."

Wearied the silver steed paused and sighed, feeling the weight of his failures more heavily today than ever before. In the silence he turned the head to look at Torasin, spearing a weak smile at the golden tobiano; it had been some time since they met and spoke. They had all been busy on their own ends; perhaps now it could be remedied, the bond strengthened. That went for the rest of the herd as well.

CREDITS: Schwartze | venomxbaby | 116802
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden

Ink Posts: 121
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hh :: 6 years

I sweep in the air after Lace, my crow wings the deepest of night as they grapple with the wind. Ink droplets are likely to splatter upon the sterling soldier, but I doubt he'll pay it much heed. A shame they could not heal where they fell, the glazier is in dire need of such.

Still caught in the air my bird-shape seems to have run into an invisible wall as it disfigures and melts together. From the blob a black rain begins to fall, reconstructing me bit by bit, drop by drop, as a horse of flesh and blood once more. I stand beside the crafter, my head raised high in wonder as I drink in the sight of the DragonHeart, her image a banner of strength lifted from a mire of despair. I would normally proffer her a weak smile, but though there is a crumb of joy in my gut at her return, there is hardly reason to rejoice.

I glance sidelong at Lace, his the first darkening cloud on this otherwise sunny day. In my haste of returning, unable to find Rishima after all, I cam to see the tail end of the battle waging between death and fire. Fear struck me so soundly I can't even recall who arose victorious. Is there truly any victory to be had when both opponents bleed? I will never understand war I'm afraid.

Then there is the matter of Solstice's imprisonment still. I hope it is that Deimos remains in our grip, foul demon that he is, so we can at least cart him off to return the mare. I have been keeping sharp tabs on our prisoners, able to return Kiara and I found Mirage in their Basin, perhaps she'll recognize me now as the pitch hawk. I had hoped to utilize my recon efforts to assist her freedom, but the mysterious lady Rishima was a few strides ahead of me. She brought death to our door and chained him up. A shame the chains did not stop him from nearly butchering Lace.

I think too of Ahriman departing, and his mother, though I knew her not. I greeted two new brothers that filled their voids, Kaj and Destrier, but it is a small flock of ravens we guard. I know almost all of them at least because of that, but even so my eyes are not so large as to watch for all the thieves in the dark and the protectors are too few to guard what I cannot. We live in a castle beyond our means, if the imprisonment of Mirage isn't sign enough of that. We need to rally our forces and strengthen our allies - the dogs we kicked may have turned tail and ran at first, but now they bare their teeth in the alleyways of the night.

Return DragonHeart, and let your flame ignite our passions and our foes.

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Destrier Posts: 180
Outcast atk: 5 | def: 7.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.3hh :: 16 HP: 65.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Suli :: Common Green Dragon :: Fire Breath & Merlin :: Plain Black Dragon :: Frost Breath Dingo


The sound of what could only be massive wings pushing against the winds was impossible to dismiss. From where he stood grazing, Destrier snapped his head up and listened intently. For a moment he might have dismissed it as a Pegasus flying overhead, unseen through the mists, but it was impossible; by the sound alone, he could tell that this was much bigger than a winged horse. But before he could put much more thought into it, a chilling, hauntingly beautiful song resonating throughout the land. A shiver ran down the Friesian's spine as it echoed, then ever so slowly faded away.

He wasn't sure how to react, but he would not stand to do nothing. He was his home now, and he would withold his promise to protect it, no matter how new a face he was to the rest.

Turning on his hocks, the stallion took off in the direction of the call, the mists parting for him as he moved. It didn't take him too long to reach the only thing that could have made such a call; a massive dragon, with a grand display of horns protruding from it's body. Another call escaped the great creature, and somehow, it sounded welcoming, calling the residents of the Edge closer. As he made his way towards the dragon, he recognized the familiar form of Ink, the lanky black steed who had been the first to meet him on the borders and judge him. Not far from him was another familiar face, the grullo Glazier called Lace. He had been the one to ultimately allow him here, and had put him up to the test of battling all three equine species. There was a third, a champagne colored paint whose name he was unaware of, but was certain he would find out soon enough.

Now, his attention was settled almost entirely on the scaly form of the dragon, listening to the words of the others as they spoke up. This was the great Weyrleader, Mirage? It all made sense, suddenly, as to why she would be regarded by such a name. He wondered briefly what she might look like in her natural form, before his thoughts went back to the present. The heartfelt joy that filled the air was comforting, and almost instantly, any sort of apprehension that the Friesian had felt evaporated. He found himself settling at Ink's side, giving the silent steed a nod in welcoming, before settling his warm gaze back upon Mirage.

He wanted nothing more to welcome the leader home, but he would remain quiet as his inky brother until he was addressed. After all, she was certainly more worried about what had happened in her absence, and Destrier found himself wanting to listen in.


Image Credits

You may attack and use magic on Des at any time for any reason.

HP: 66.5

Rishima Posts: 137
World's Edge Moon Advocate
Mare :: Equine :: 16.2 :: 15 Buff: NOVICE
Kali :: Common Griffin :: Draining Clutch Charks
[Image: Rishheader.jpg]
She thought the gryphon was asleep.

Want fish.
"As long as you clean up the mess."

A pause, still and shocked. The well of silence that extends between them, an abyss of emptiness and disjointed minds, untouched despite their every attempt to bridge the agonizing crevasse... it ripples, and morphs, and then, in an audacious surge of kinetic energy, riots.

White and black and gold they run, leap, laugh, a deep exaltation overtaking them as gryphon and mare realize once more that they are one. The swell of emotion is nearly unbearable, crashing waves filled with aquatic ideas digging into the embankments of each others mind and tearing them down, until wants and needs and desires are shared and spread, flowing from one to another in a smoothly chocolate stream of consciousness. One tells the other of the emptiness, the worry, the joy, the fear; all the emotions she has endured since they were apart, and the other shares her own range of ideas and thoughts and images and words. And words, words- Reesheemah, croons the gryphon with avian affection and childlike adoration. "Kali," replies the mare with love as deep as her accented voice, laughing at the beak that plucks at her mane and preens invisible bugs from her thick winter coat.

She did not know how much she loved her companion until their bond was broken, and did not know how much she missed until their hearts retied.

In the distance, they can hear a dragon's cry. As one they breathe a name, caressed and delighted and reverent. "Mirage," they say, and Rishima lifts her hooves in a fluid, hurried, needy run. Her sister has come home. On long limb and wild wing they make their way though the woods, a girl and her gryphon on their way to see all become right in the world.

But Kali is weak, and soon she grows tired, too tired, worn down from her exposure to the demon's magic and the loss of her life to his sinister grasp. She falls onto the mare's back, protesting weakly to the rolling motion of her hips, so that Rishima is forced to slow to a walk, concern deeply lining the midnight of her chiseled face. Dimly chirps the hybrid, an attempt at reassurance - "Shh," the mare chides. "You just need to rest." In the misty light Kali blinks, and stretches, and settles down to nap atop her bonded's rump.

It is thus that they find them, the others, the waiting and the weary come to greet their restored leader. The golden dragon towers over them all, the two arrived, the one on the wing, and the stranger. She sees Lace, who stands tall despite being so bruised and broken. His honor saved her Kali; and someday she shall perhaps repay him for that sacrifice. It shall not be forgotten. There is Torasin, too, and she wonders what has happened to the love he once bore her sister, if he still longs for her as she suspects he once did, or if it has changed in the wake of time and turmoil and the sons I am told he sired. There is Ink, sweet Ink, the silent stallion who she really ought to get to know better. And then a stranger, a draft creature who stands beside Ink and speaks not.

And there is Rishima, and she steps out of the darkness and into the warmth of her herd, and wonders what caused such a miracle, but does not really care. The stealth of Deimos, his stupid attempt at escape - had it led to this? Does it matter? She wants to run to her sister's side, to examine the draconic body and soul and ensure that it is whole, but she does not. There are more urgent things to attend to, more pressing wounds. Lace stands beside Ink, and with a fluid motion she slides between them, not close enough to touch Lace, just close enough to offer him support, a warm exhalation ghosting over the shorter creature's ears and neck, a silent but heartfelt thank you and I'm sorry.

Upon her back, Kali stirs, cerulean eyes fixing anxiously on the sleeping white dragon as strains of concern chase away the heavy exhaustion that pulls at her soul. With effort she shifts, stands, and calls softly to the older beast, creeping across the gap between her bonded and Fajira's without a second thought - after all, this was her Lace - and laying a gentle claw on the little dragon's back.

She reaches behind her wing, and comes back with a long white feather.

Eat, she instructs, for Fajira and Rishima to hear, edging the black-tipped thing closer to the sleeping dragon's weary face. She does not quite understand that Fajira is unconscious, only that she is hurt, and that the feathers helped before. Eat, she says again, more urgently now. From behind her comes Rishima's deep voice, telling her to let the dragon sleep, but she ignores it - after all, she can help. Why would they stop her from doing that?

[Image: Rishifooter.jpg]

Thor the Gentle Heart Posts: 379
Hidden Account atk: 4 | def: 7 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Pegasus :: 17.3 :: 11 (TallSun) HP: 64.5 | Buff: NOVICE
Sabine :: Common Zephyr :: Roc Linds

Her return. It had been awaited by many and perhaps it appeared to me as a dream, so lovely and yet so unpredictable. Above, the flash of golden wings drew me from my reverie. It frightened me still, as I had never seen her in draconic form. Her tail seemed to wisp along the air’s current before me before she disappeared into the mist, just as much a fairytale as I’d ever seen. But, as I stood glaring into the grey skies, I was in awe. I wasn’t sure if I’d seen it. I wasn’t sure that I hadn’t, but all the same I was moving, throwing my legs across the ground in such a way that I almost felt like flying. Through the trees, the mists swirled and laughed around me, brilliant and dancing in their own obvious join at the Dragonheart’s return. I knew that I would not be the first to find her, for she had many loyal followers, many valiant soldiers in which she commanded. Each and every one of us had devoted ourselves for reasons only she knew. This was her home after all, we were merely residing in it.

When it appeared as if I were nearing her destination, I slowed, sides heaving from the effort of pushing myself through the land as if death nipped at my heels. Up and through the trees, I could see her now, perched upon the crag as she gazed out over her home, narrowed eyes just barely visible as she no doubt counted the faces- those who were near and dear to her. I was sure that many more were to come, hailing from the mist like ghostly apparitions until all looked upon her, wide-eyed and jubilant. Beneath me the soft forest soil seemed to harden as it exchanged its emerald lashes for the slate of the cliff. I found that I had taken my new home for granted and forgotten just how beautiful it was, now that I could see over the edge and into the endless blue that lapped up against the deadly shore below.

Just ahead, the congregation gathered. I recognized many from simple encounters, such as Torasin and Kiba. The pair was always a welcome sight, as I certainly considered them friends. There was also the fearless Lace, who I had followed into the Basin in order to retrieve Solstice and Svetlana. Fajira was not at his side as I had expected, though I had seen her leave the Basin in a heap after their brutal attack. My heart went out to her and I only hoped that she would heal quickly…

Ink was here as well, a strange creature of darkness that I admired for his sense of self. He was a comforting sight to see and I felt as if I was comfortable now, confident in my knowledge of everyone here. Even Destrier was in company, the valiant stallion newly welcomed to The Edge. I was somehow excited to see him now- a true sign of his loyalty to our home. We were dwindling it seemed and as much as I wanted to spend my time recruiting, it was growing hard in all the tensions that lie in anticipating Mirage’s release from the clutches of the Basin. However, there is another mare, one I had never met before. Upon her back, a strange creature rests quietly. I am unsure of the pair, though they seem to know Mirage far better than I and I don’t stand to question their arrival. I am more concerned with welcoming our Lead, the Matron of The World’s Edge.

Welcome Home Mirage.

Hellena Posts: 64
World's Edge Seer
Mare :: Unicorn :: 15.2 hh :: 26 Buff: NOVICE

My presence is silent, much like the others who linger before me. I have been listening for some time now, to the whispers of the mists, as they grow excited, unsettled, restless and jubilant. My lithe form is wrapped within them, I wear the mists of these lands like a cloak, a protective covering that obscures me from view, but gives me insight into what may become of the future. It is not difficult to ascertain what is happening now; the return of our leader is imminent, the lands rejoice at the prospect. Moving with a graceful, dancer's step across the lands, I bring myself towards the gathering. It matters not whether I am first or last to arrive; that I am here, that we are all here, is well enough. My eyes watch the others, happy to see the joy in their own stances, sad to see all the hardships her absence has caused. Pale as Ink is dark, I stand near him and the Glazier, tilting my horned crown to those I recognise, and giving a curious, soulful stare to those I was yet to meet.

"My liege." The only words my angelic tones offer are those of respect, reaffirming my loyalties to her leadership. I would admit to growing fond of the current inhabitants to my Edge, though the previous inhabitants - the ones who stole our leader away from us - did provide me with more interaction with my own species. It was not that I was racist, like them, but rather a sense of familiarity, of acceptance and belonging that one can only find among those who share similar physical attributes. I neither hated nor loved them; just as I neither hated nor loved the Qian for causing damage upon my home, and eradicating those who were here before. I was the Seer, the diviner of the Gods, the one who would linger here no matter what leadership took the throne. I stood before the current government, knowing that she knew this - for she had spoken to be directly about it shortly after obtaining her title - and welcomed her home.

Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath Whit

So caught up in their own reverie had they been, that the brightness that lighted up the afternoon sky had escaped their notice. For who would notice a simple comet streaming across the sky, when something as fantastic, as important, as utterly wonderful as their bond being restored had occurred? The sky is falling. It was Akaith who did notice, as she danced with glee above her bonded, who tilted her scaly crown to view the sight. Such cosmic events were surely the work of the Gods - she would climb the Veins again, she decided with sharp finality, and she would, she hoped, gain answers from them.

It was fitting, the scent she located first on the wind, that of a dragon, and a stallion, one that she had known since her first season here, within Helovia, would be this golden creature. He was as sunny as she was dark - though their hides reflected similar hues when she held this bodice - and she had missed his smile, his emerald gaze, his playful dragon. Akaith crooned as Kiba came near, running her maw against his own, sending waves of affection and relief through the telepathic communication most companions could easily forge with each other. At the stallion's motion to touch her, Mirage returned, only she went a step further, and looped her long, serpentine nape over his, and gently held him to her, humming a deep, draconic purr all the while.

She appreciated his words, but forgave him swiftly with a huff of smoke exiting her nostrils. There was little any of them could do about it now; what was done was done, the best thing they could do was work on their protective measures, and prevent such crises from ever occurring again. Concern did cross her façade, as she nodded, listening keenly to his words, hearing of how the herd had fared - or rather, suffered - during her absence. Guilt plagued her, and for a moment, she was angry at Xanthos again, frustrated that his actions had caused all of this - and yet, she reminded herself that he had sought forgiveness, that she had pledged to protect him. And she would stick by that.

The mention of the bond numbness was a surprise, one that she responded to immediately. "Indeed, there was silence between us, from the time I awoke in there, until just now, my flight home, I can feel her again." Akaith trilled happily, as if to confirm what she said.

Blood entered her nostrils then, and her attention was stolen - a sharp movement brought her eyes pointed in the direction of Lace. Keen, slitted eyes grew wider and thinner as they focussed on different parts of him, resting for some time on the little dragon unconscious upon his rump, even as she felt Akaith leave the space above her to sit by Fajira upon the silver grulla's rump. Concern grew, even as his own concern grew for her. Scales ruffled, much as a bird's does when aggravated, standing on end as a wave of annoyance rushed over her. A small snarl appeared upon her lips as he began muttering, terrifying for the second that it lingered there, before another harsh snort hoped to bring an end to his concern. She would reveal all, but longed to listen to their words first, words that would not be wasted on inquiring after her wellbeing.

"They guarded us separately, but I know of her location. I heard Aaron's challenge ring out across the lands; I will return there to ensure success is had, one way or another." She spoke of Solstice quietly, loud enough for the group to hear, but not enough so that her voice rang out and echoed across the lands. The words she spoke were of matters of politics, matters that affected the lives of a mother and son, of two friends who would be returned to her. News of her sister's efforts was accepted with a nod, the dragon-mare hid what pride she felt swelling up within her. Pride, and gratitude, and even a small sense of surprise - she knew her sister to be more than capable of leading, but she also knew how much her sister valued her solitude - for it would have been no easy choice for her to make, to step up to the controls and guide them with confidence.

An inky bird lands, and as Akaith chortles her greeting from her post atop Lace , mimicking the sound of the hawk she had called to in the Basin (only much softer this time), Mirage does finally understand the strange bird she had sighted whilst speaking with her guard. Her heart fills with affection for the Wraith, and she views him with happiness, pleased too to see him stand more confidently, and behave as if he is familiar with those around him. Her pointed muzzle is proffered to him, a greeting as silent as the steed himself, before a new creature steals her attention. He is shadowy and dark, silent too, and she tilted her crown at him curiously. It was good to see new blood in the lands, good to see that even though they suffered, they still showed promises of growth, of healing.

Then the one who could call her sister arrived, the little gryphon almost as fatigued as the unconscious Fajira, and Mirage reached out with a swift motion to brush her muzzle against the soft hide, breath warm and smoky as the greeting was exchanged. It was short lived, as the attention soon swivelled to the action of the little gryphon, who pulled in alongside Akaith. The golden queen was curious as to the gryphon's actions, and though she did not hear the command the feline-bird gave, she could see well enough its intentions. A soft caw, a gentle song emanated from her maw, hoping to help rouse the little white. Given half the chance, she would wrap her own mind around that of Fajira's, cushion its pains as she does for her own bonded, but it would be inappropriate, at least without Lace's permission. Akaith made to stroke the scales of Fajira with her dextrous forepaws, hoping to banish the slumber that threatened to go on forever.

The next to arrive was the titanic beast that Mirage had welcomed to the Edge herself, a steed who she was glad to see midst the familiar faces. A small smile was offered to him at his words, a dip of her crown in greeting, the expression she wore was gratitude. Mists descended upon them for a moment as Hellena made her arrival, the dragon-mare greeted her too with a deep nod, gratefully acknowledging the meaning behind her presence. This truly is our home, but she is its true heart. She thought quietly to her bonded, who, from Lace's back, chirruped her own greetings.

"My kin; thank you. Thank you for standing strong in my absence. I am sure you can appreciate the frustrations I felt at knowing I had left you, and was unable to return besides, until now. My means of escape was a matter of gaining the strength of my magic, for it had been blocked by whatever poison I had ingested. The cut I wear upon my shoulder is a mark I made myself; the one who guarded me, who stole me, regrets his actions, sought forgiveness, and was granted it. I painted him in my own blood to alleviate suspicion upon his involvement of my escape - the Edge is open to him, friends, he will join us when time allows. Xanthos is his name, and no harm is to come upon him."

Her voice thrummed in the air like a deep instrument, accented and powerful, speaking matters of import with grave sincerity. Switching her view to contain Torasin, she addressed the matter of harm that had befallen Lace. "Torasin, would you rise to the position of Head Healer, Moon Doctor, and embrace the Wind and Dark magic of the lands, to heal Lace immediately, as well as Fajira, and restore some strength to Kali?" The authority in her voice now was paramount; as she governed the magic of the very herdland with it, and offered to bestow it upon her gilded friend.

"We will rebuild, my friends." She spoke to the group again, this time with a keen, determined finality. "All is not lost, and what remains is strong, stronger than before, and we will grow stronger." As she spoke, her tail lashed over the edge that she sat upon, smacking against the wall, creating thunderous claps akin to the sounds of the waves crashing against the stony cliff, only these resonated closer to them all, and in time with the emphatic points of her speech. Fatigue attempted to plague her, but soon enough, she would be able to rest, to recover, to heal herself from the wounds that afflicted her body and her soul. Silence overthrew her then, as she awaited what else her brethren would share with her.

[ ooc :|: Feel free to continue joining if you haven't already, play out that you heard everything. Try to stick to post order if you can, but to keep things moving, if you are limited on time, just post whenever you can :) ]

Torasin Posts: 132
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.1 :: 8
[Image: xmastortable.png]

Torasin & Kiba

Torasin offered a nod to each who appeared. A concerned look at Lace and Fajira, blood scarring the horse and a crumpled form of a dragon rode upon his back. Kiba moved in swift beats of his wings to hover beside Fajira, communicating his concern to her and blanching away slightly when Kali came near. The memories of a screaming griffin still present in his mind. Torasin listened to Lace gravely and in turn flicked his ears to Rishima for her news, noting the appearance of Ink. A silent hero, but a hero still in bringing Kiara back. At least, in the eyes on the gentleman. Green eyes flickered to another, acknowledging the unknown fellow with gentle companionship he offered to all, face still troubled by Lace. He nickered a soft greeting to Thor and another to Hellena. He left out none, even in his concern. Solstice was a soft subject, Torasin coveted the mare as his best of friends along with Mirage and others, a mare seemed destined for lack of luck. The soft boy greatly wanted to change that, if fate allowed him to.

Proceedings were under way then as his golden leader addressed her loyal herd. She gave her thanks and offered an explanation for her wound, giving Torasin a cause for slight relief in that they hadn't hurt her. What was more surprising was the defect of her guard, Xanthos, the gilded man vowed to keep an eye on him, but also treat him with open friendliness. He, after all, could be the reason that his beloved leader was still alive. He watched with intent as she paused in her speech, her gaze falling upon himself and Torasin moved to stand attentive. Her words came and understanding dawned in his honest eyes, he dipped his head in extravagant bow at the end. "Without a pause in thought, I will immediately take up this responsibility, ma'am" he formally and politely accepted her official offer. Motioning for Kiba to move back to his rump so he could examine his first patients, even when the dark winds hadn't quite engulfed him yet, his medical eye began to identify the injuries and fatigue that troubled Lace, Fajira and Kali.

He had also not forgotten Mirage, who he would have to find later to check she was okay.

salamander-stock | venomxbaby | Elevit-stock |

Yseulte Posts: 68
Hidden Account
Mare :: Unicorn :: 16 hh :: 5
Itzal :: White Tiger :: Hypnotize roni

Yseulte felt very much like an outsider.

A sham, pretending to be something she was not. She belonged in the world of thieves, and murderers, of backstabbers and liars. She didn't deserve belong to this...this honorable family. The word was foreign to her in a way that made her heart ache strangely. It had been doing that a lot lately—and she wished the heart wasn't such a weak, vulnerable organ, and that it didn't feel so much. Everything had been as listless gray as the sea since she first arrived here in the dead of Frostfall. Little happiness was to be found among the residents of the Edge and Yseulte could only stand awkwardly on the outside looking in, experiencing none of the pain and sadness these loyal Edge dwellers suffered daily.

She was moving through the green glades of the forest, enjoying the wane sunlight lacing through the thriving canopy and dappling her back in a swirling array of flickering shadows, vines, and leaves. And perhaps that is when she heard it—the great hum of wings overhead. A draft that was not wind stirred the canopy, murmuring through the leaves and whispering rustling lullabies through the undergrowth. A song she had never heard before reached her ears next, gentle and soft, and yet undeniable powerful and old like the slumbering earth itself. She recalled the sounds of dragon companions, of Lace's Fajira and Torasin's playful Kiba, and silently decided this song and the warble of the companions sounded alike.

Curious, she responded, unknowingly answering the call of their Queen. She emerged from the fringe of the deep green woods to see a small gathering of familiar faces. Lace, her mentor, looking less-strained than the last she had spoken with him. Torasin was there too, he and Kiba both. Her callous heart warmed at the sight of the golden stallion and his companion, for she deeply cherished their newfound friendship. She settled next to him, nipping his shoulder lightly before gazing around at the faces gathered. Her gaze settled on a dark stallion first that lingered near Lace, one whom she had not seen or met before. Not one, but two ink-colored stallions she did not know. And Rishima, of course, the elusive, cunning mare Yseulte had crossed paths with not long ago. And Thor! She had not seen the winged stallion since the night of the bonfires all those many nights ago. Hellena, next, and Yseulte gave a warm glance to the elder mare's way. The Seer had helped her out of a tight spot with two rambunctious children not very long ago.

And next...

Yseulte could only assume this extraordinary beast to be their mysterious queen, stolen away long ago. Yseulte's gaze followed the metallic glitter of smooth scales and jewel-like eyes that burned with a light brighter than the desert sun. Yseulte listened to the proceedings quietly, intently, impressed by the dragon queen's prowess and ability to survive even the most evil of conditions.

Perhaps they shared more in common than Yseulte had initially assumed.


image credits


Lace the Silverthorn Posts: 459
Deceased atk: 5 | def: 9 | dam: 5.5
Stallion :: Equine :: 15.3 hh :: 14 HP: 65 | Buff: NOVICE
Fajira :: Plain White Dragon :: Fire Breath Chan

before the sun sets

One by one they came, expectant or hesitant depending on whether it was their first meeting with their glorious queen. Lace wouldn't blame those who quivered in the depths of their souls upon beholding the WeyrLeader; his first encounter with her draconian form was still fresh in memory. May things had happened since that stormy day by the Blue when she heard him confess to crimes of times past and forgave him, since he swore to follow her until his debt was repaid. A great many events, meetings and days... and yet it was only little more than half a year ago. He would never have believed then that he would find himself standing amidst a herd where mostly everyone was considered friends, brothers and sisters of a common cause and shared believes.

Golden eyes turned to look at Ink, who had followed him out from the woods and probably all the way from the border where he had battled with the escaping prisoner, at Rishima who came to stand next to him after greeting Mirage. Meeting her gaze, he rewarded her apologetic look with a reassuring smile; she had nothing to be sorry for. Was it not why he was there? To aid those who needed it, protect their herd, and watch over the interest of them all... It mattered little whether it was him or her who stood up to the prisoner; in fact, Lace was quite happy that he had been there first, so that the sister of their leader didn't have to be harmed.

His gaze then moved over to Destrier, silent and humble but still every bit as much family as the mysterious Seer who joined in with them; it didn't matter that he knew neither of them well. The Glazier watched as Thor arrived and greeted the queen welcome home, noticed Yseulte where she lingered in the outskirts of the gathering - as always preferring the solitude. He would have to ask his apprentice about that someday.

The battle-weary stallion turned back to the scaled dragoness when she began to speak, reassuring them first about Soleil before she began to disclose the matter of her injury. Relief mingled with a great deal of other emotions as she said she was the one who had caused the injury; admiration over the resolve she showed, curiosity over this unicorn who had been persuaded to join their cause, suspicion towards the same, and anger. Anger, because who was this stranger to accept the blood of Mirage, how dared he drug her, take her away from her family and friends and then nestle his way into her heart, so much that she even forgave him? Jealousy boiled black and ugly in his gut, irrational and unexplainable, and almost immediately Lace decided that he didn't like this Xanthos.

And yet, even as he was attentive to those who spoke and moved around him, most of the grullo's interest was turned to the small, limp girl atop his back. In the silence between every spoken word he steeled his aching muscles, held his breath and strained to perceive the haggard, faint breaths of the little dragon. When first Akaith and then Kali came to sit next to her on his back, followed by a worried Kiba, the steed turned to watch them with dull eyes glazed over with worry. A frown grew on his brow when noticing what Kali tried to do, unaware of her intent with the feather. If it hadn't been for Rishima's unconcerned demeanor he would have brushed her away, spared Fajira her persistent prodding.

"Let her rest" he murmured quietly to the little gryphon, voice soft yet pained - suspecting without being certain that the gold-tailed feather-wing was capable of understanding him.

His expression brightened considerably when Mirage asked Torasin to step up in rank and claim a position as Healer. Proud over his friend and grateful for the concerns of the shadow-mare, he offered the gilded gentleman a small but warm smile when as he came over.

"Congratulations, brother" he said quietly. "Do look at Fajira first. I'm quite alright, I've been injured worse than this. She however was touched by dark magic, and for the second time to that; both times by the Basin's Reaper, that damned general of theirs." He ignored the fact that he'd been in just as much contact with it this time around, carelessly swatting the fatigue and unexplainable tiredness away as nothing but aftermaths of the fight.

CREDITS: Schwartze | venomxbaby | 116802
♦ Permission granted to use magic and violence on Lace and Fajira
♦ Only tag in new threads, spars and if it's urgent
The Store | The Warden

Ink Posts: 121
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hh :: 6 years
[derp, skip me for now...I'm not sure if we're following posting order BUT JUST IN CASE I will respond when I have a moment, not that Ink is doing or saying anything useful xP]
Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Vikram Posts: 73
World's Edge Skilled Protector
Stallion :: Hybrid :: 19 hh :: 9 years Buff: NOVICE
The resounding cry of dragon-song, too deep for those smaller creatures that accompanied so many who dwelled here, drew the dragon's son from a state of alert but resting trance. Golden eyes blinked, slitted pupils narrowing as he focused instead of simply absorbing all the information his senses picked up. Ears twitched and swiveled as he turned back from the borders. Was that?

Again the call sounded, and the massive steed snorted. It was! How had he missed her approach? His ears angled to locate the origin of the call, deducing it to come from the cliff-side borders. Ah, so that explained how. Eagerly he spread his enormous wingspan and flung himself skyward. An effort that required several forward strides before enough air was caught by the leathery sails to gain lift. Unhurriedly he angled his flight over the trees, tracing the border as he did so. Just because he was anxious to rejoin his mate did not mean he would skimp on watching the borders. Now would be an excellent time for intruders to sneak past, when all the herd's residents were distracted by the return of the leader.

In time he came across the gathering, but his eyes were only for the two golden dragons, one large and one small, that graced the cliff-side clearing. Still he paused, circling once, to decide how best to land. His sheer size required this careful planning, so as to not catch fragile wing membrane on branches or trample smaller herdmates. At last he decided the best route was one Mirage herself had taken, and swept down from the open air to land in a flurry of strong gusts of wind mere feet from the dragon-mare.

As he carefully folded his wings the bronzen stud offered brief apologetic looks to those others present who would have been buffeted by the wind of his landing. As he did so he listened to the words of Mirage. A promotion, and words of encouragement. Only after did he approached her, closing the small gap with a sound that straddled the line between whicker and draconic croon. He had missed her, but had decided to wait instead of act rashly. His muzzle grazed against her nearest wing, then bumped her shoulder in quiet affection without pausing to request permission. But he kept to those small intimacies unless she initiated more, instead turning his gaze to Akaith with a welcoming rumble. He wondered at her earlier silence, oblivious to the fact that the other companions had been equally silent. Few other than the little queen chose to speak with him, and he had not sought them out in recent days.

((Better late than never.))

Mirage the DragonHeart Posts: 414
Deceased atk: 5.5 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 15.3 :: Eighteen HP: 68.5 | Buff: ENDURE
Akaith :: Royal Golden Dragon :: Fire Breath Whit

Torasin accepted, and a flood of relief shot through the mare in the form of dark, windy caresses as by her authority, the healing powers of the mystical lands were bestowed upon him. He turned his attentions swiftly to her Glazier, who defected the attentions to his dragon. A small nod was given in approval, the motion subtle and would have only been seen had any in the crowd been directing their gazes still at her, instead of the workings of the healer. Another arrived, her hue was unusual, like a deep lavender, no, indigo? Blue? The slitted, draconic eyes of the leader opened and closed, irises flexing as they drank in the brindle along her flanks, the horn upon her brow, the pale outline of her mane and tail. A nod was offered to the silent creature, her eyes softening as she acknowledged a new member of her herd.

"I must offer my apologies to those I have not yet met." Her gaze flicked from the young mare to the new Protector stallion, extending the apology to them both, as well as any others not yet within her sights. "I long to learn more about you all, and swear to do so, if you would have an audience with me later." The dragon-mare smiled, a weariness settling over her. Wings shuffled and folded closer to her body, talons kneaded the earth below her. Akaith cooed from her position beside the little white, wanting to help more, but seeing that Fajira would recover whether she was by her side or not. The little gold had been distracted, and with joy Mirage heard the mental pulses that spoke of her mate's nearing. The WeyrLeader turned her golden sights to view the dragon-stallion coming in to land, curving her serpentine nape and not bothering to mask the sheer affection she felt for his bronze form.

The DragonHeart had heard the attempts of rescue, and she could only hope that none got hurt during it. She didn't know the specifics of course, only that she was freed by the power of her own wings, her powers of persuasion, and her taking advantage of the time she was given. She hadn't felt abandoned by those left behind in her herd, even those whom she could tell did not venture to the Basin in attempts for her, or the other captives', freedom. No, she felt no sense of betrayal, but rather a pride, for those who were strong enough not to behave rashly and rush into her rescue, they instead stayed behind and maintained the herdland. Paranoia did prickle, for there numbers were low, but she reassured herself in that their hearts were strong; they would defeat any enemy that tried to cross her borders - even if it was by the claws of her own dragon form that slayed any and all of them.

A deep, draconic wuffle greeted Vikram, and for a moment, she allowed her eyes to roam over him only, to hold his magnificent, bulky form. He stood taller than any other she had ever met, taller than herself even in this form, only their wings were of similar size, and hers were pinned tightly to her side to ensure he had space enough to stand. He was impressive and fierce in appearance, and yet he was loyal to her, to her cause, to the herd. Akaith delicately took to the skies to greet him, no doubt flooding his brain with images and emotions and explanations of everything that might have happened in the last season. With practised dexterity, Mirage's snout brushed along him, her slitted nostrils soaking in everything he was, as Akaith promptly landed upon his back, purring her own way to express her glee at his presence.

A memory chose this moment to trickle through her cranium, a recalling of a dark shadow bird, one she had realised before, upon seeing Ink. Pulling herself away from the reverie of her mate, she addressed the gathering again, not at all abashed at the quiet moments of joy she had shared with Vikram. The dragon-mare held the slim, dark stallion in her keen sights now, a small smile playing upon her face. He had more than proved himself worthy, he obviously was using his skills to obtain information, to learn and gather all that he could about his surrounds - and he was doing it for her, for the herd. Yes, he deserved the proclamation that she was about to make.

"Ink, your presence was a comfort to me in the Basin; I recognise now what Akaith had realised before." Leaning forward, she lowered her tiara to him, in gratitude. "Would you become my Spectre, and teach our future Wraiths the way of subtleness you so expertly orchestrate?"

[ ooc :|: As before, continue posting whenever you get the chance <3 ]

Ink Posts: 121
Hidden Account
Stallion :: Equine :: 16.2 hh :: 6 years

I watch the healing efforts with an empty gaze. I do not understand the craft, though I can appreciate it's necessity and beauty. I feel utterly powerless - nothing new.

I turn my gaze away to preoccupy myself with the others that appear, watching the interactions between the two dragon-horses with a detached interest. Part of me feels as though I'm awkwardly intruding on their intimacy, despite it being they who chose to act before so many eyes, yet another part of me is fascinated. I know so little of social graces that any idea of romance is naught but a dream for me. I wonder though, for who is it not? It is a joyful thing to share love. You are welcomed wholly and completely by another, able to express not only weakness but passion in ways you never could before. I must admit I have much passion to share; I am no gelding, merely a virgin.

I sigh. A worthless endeavor. Girls wants sweet nothings whispered in their ear and I can only offer them the nothings.

Almost privy to my attentions on her reunion Mirage's gaze turns to me. I wonder if I turn a shade paler, more of a deep grey than black as I freeze under her draconic stare. Yet her lips (is that what dragons have?) purse in a kind smile. Perhaps she enjoys the attention I think boyishly... but she goes on to speak, providing me with words I had never expected.

I want to laugh.

It comes out as nothing more than a trembling quiet, more akin to a wheezing sickness than mirth. Does the DragonHeart think me so capable of leading others? At least I have no others to lead yet, for as I glance around I see none of my kin. Is it then that she has promoted me in light of their being no others to compete with? It gives me a certain grimness that rapidly squashes my nervous mirth.

I am only cynical of course, what else is to be expected of me. I see Mirage in better light than that and I know she would not reward so kindly if the skills were not apparent, but I cannot help but question her faith in when she has only one to place it in.

Yet despite my laughter and my bleak reservations, I do not decline, for I am curious to know what power will be. Will I garner more respect now? I have never been disrespected here, but I wonder if everyone will bow as I breeze past. The thought makes me smile, though the humor is in knowing it won't happen. I'm no less capable of saying my new title than my old, so how could anyone know me improved and honored? Perhaps I'll get a crown. A crown of mist that will burn off whenever the sun rises. It would suit me, a being of vapor and spoiled water.

Tag me only if starting a new thread.
Magic or force permitted any time, aside from death.

Kiara Posts: 171
Deceased atk: 4 | def: 9 | dam: 6
Mare :: Equine :: 13.2hh :: 5 Years HP: 64 | Buff: NOVICE
Keiran :: Black Panther :: Stormcall Emily

Late as ever, the red roan finally makes her appearance. She slips in quietly to stand near Ink, the one who had saved her from her imprisonment at the Basin. It was with a pang of sadness in her green eyes that she watched Vikram and Mirage together. The young roan longed for that attention, and had foolishly thought that Breeze could provide that. As a part of her quest she had to give up the pegasus who had shown her such love... Just until the end of BirdSong. It had been a hard choice, but it was one she would willingly make if it meant that she would soon be able to heal the ones that she held dear. Speaking of healing, her green eyes looked to the gash on Mirage's leg wondering what had caused such a wound.

It was then she heard Mirage's voice, naming Ink the Spectre if he would accept. Quietly as always it seemed the ebon knight did accept. Kiara nudged him gently on his neck and spoke softly "Congratulations, a title well earned." Her gaze fell to the ground shyly suddenly. So many had done so much for the herd while Mirage had been captured.. What had she done other than be freed by another... Nothing. So many had brought in new members and helped to free the others... Guilt was written all over the young roan's face... She had done nothing but go to the Gods and ask for magic... Sure it had been a selfless magic, to heal others... But she had done nothing to help her herd, her family in their time of need.

"talk talk"

The Heart is Wiser than the Mind

Please Tag Kiara in All Posts
Permission granted to use magic or physical force with Kiara at any time for any reason to any degree, with the exception of killing her.

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