| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7 |
| Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK |
|
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath
Tamme |
Tears from her eyes would be too selfish, but she felt the sting regardless. Djinn, Mauja, Ktulu, Osiris, the rest of the Grey? Who all had she hurt in the process of her selfish adventures? Even the fact that she had wandered away along this blue, rocky path made her feel sick to her stomach with self-loathing. The memories of her bubbling happiness, open kindness and stunning joy at her life unhindered by the past was the most selfish, unknowing act she had ever made, and she hated herself for it.
The only way to erase the past is to erase history itself. Ophelia was at the mercy of others' knowledge. A sister she did not know told her that she was not the same, but that she was needed. A stallion who had saved her from a rather tense situation had been so injured by her ignorance. Mauja, a stallion she had believed to be a dream, had been aided by her before. She remembered nothing. Forgetting names and faces, hurting everyone in her path with this horrid, foul desire.
Was it worth it? Was what she asked for worth the agony of her friends? Friends she could not remember? She wanted to tear herself away from the world and return to the north to waste away, alone. Even suicide was a selfish choice at this point, and she would hurt everyone even more. Anger built in her chest as her cloven hooves carried her to the Sun God's shrine, though the anger was not directed at the God. The anger was directed at herself.
Every tinge of discomfort, lick of the blue flames and scratch on her hide was a welcomed pain. Perhaps if she ached physically enough, she would repay her sins. Repay, perhaps, but never undo. Nothing that just happened could be undone. If only she could make them forget. No. Selfish. Ophelia came to the revelation that she was a truly loathsome creature; the most self-centered wretch to ever defile the ground on which she walked. Her pure white coat was false advertising for what lay beneath the surface. She hated her former self for making this choice, for making her suffer for it when she was unaware of why it was made in the first place.
Hooves stopped before the shrine of the Sun God, and she was shaking with emotion from horn to tail. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, and she blinked away the scratchy tears from her eyes without allowing them to fall. A pressure was growing tighter and tighter in her head, muscles of her face tensed into a grimace. Ophelia tumbled to her knees, broken before his shrine. "Forgive me, Sun God. I have made a grave mistake..." she whispered, voice cracking from her lips like the fissure in her heart.
|
CARRY YOUR CROSS
And I'll carry mine. Dig your own hole and you'll be fine.
|
roni
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
|
Please tag me in every response!
| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17 hh :: Ageless |
| Admin |
01-12-2013, 10:02 PM
(This post was last modified: 01-12-2013, 10:03 PM by God of the Sun.)
The GOD of the SUN
Burn the whole world down
|
A crack in the air appears. Slim and ragged, it shines with light. A holy light, but a wild and violent one all the same. From between its lips steps the figure of a forgotten god; a lonely god. Ophelia stands before him, pure in body but tainted in mind. But has she ever been any other way? His wings spread carelessly across his hindquarters and his eyes turn downwards. He does not long to look upon her and see what she has become. It is too far from what she is. She is no longer Ophelia- she is a distant being, selfish and fickle. He misses the strong and quiet soul inside her. He curses himself for casting it away.
She has come too early. The final hymn of Birdsong has yet to ring through Tallsun skies. The season of his favor will not come soon enough, and yet he does not wish for its burden. Once he had extended it, carried it on and scorched the earth. But he is tired now, tired today.
He has lived for so long. Lived for so long and remembered every moment. As the self-hating child of the light before him feels pain of a memory lost, he longs for its relief. But the responsibility of knowing will never be lifted. Cursed as his banishment was, upon returning he finds it to be something he misses in a strange way. Were it not for the powerlessness of his punishment, for all that he had fought for in the past Tallsun, for the coats burned and the lives burned out, he might regret leaving it. For could he not have found power elsewhere? Were there not other lands huddling in shadow just waiting for a light?
No. He can muse all he wants, but the answer is simple and the choice clear. He stays, as he always does. Stays in a pit of fire and a sea of light, behind the shrine awaiting the mortals that call his blessed name. Stays standing before those that throw gifts in his face. Stays and feels for them all the same, love or hate.
It is the responsibility that stops him from turning away from her now, even knowing that she has come to him too soon. With a heavy sigh and a shake of his shimmering, adorned mane, he looks upon Ophelia. Looks into her eyes and sees her as she is: A stranger- a shadow of the truth.
"Indeed you have, stranger. But not the one you think," he begins with a silent sigh and a far off look in his eyes. His tail flickers tiredly, his regal eyes shut tight and stay shut to shield him from pain. "I once took from a mare her memories so that she might one day have the power to do the same to others. Her pain was great and the power her medicine. She was selfish, perhaps, to accept, but it was I that took from her her mind. And I do not make mistakes, stranger," the God of the Sun continues. Lids part and he sees her, or at the very least what is left of her. "Ophelia wanted nothing more than to tear herself from the minds of others- to make them forget as you have, knowing that when she returned to me she would be given back her mind, and with it her sorrow. Do you desire the same?"
The question is simple; the answer anything but. He stands with sunflowers woven in his mane, eyes too tired to show the sadness he may have felt upon seeing this shadow. In a silence shrouded in a weary white light, he waits.
|
 |
CREDITS
| Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7 |
| Mare :: Hybrid :: 16.0 hh :: 6 Years HP: 77 | Buff: BULK |
|
Tinek :: Royal Silver Dragon :: Frost Breath & Shock Breath
Tamme |
Ophelia laid eyes on the God of the Sun for the first time, and she was overwhelmed. She remained where she was, knees on the hard ground, but she could not meet his eyes. Two toned orbs squinted from the light, and she inhaled sharply, face twisted into a grimace as she lowered her head even more. The initial words he murmurers are like a puzzle to her eager mind, for she cannot change her physiology; she is who her brain chemistry allows, though memories shape her personality. Did the Sun God mean that she was mistaken in returning to early? Was she mistaken in what she did since she walked from him the first time? Ophelia could think of thousands of mistakes, hundreds of paths she had taken wrong, but what did he mean?
He continued, and she slowly rose to her hooves, feeling the bones ache from how hard she collapsed onto the joints. Small burns still stung around her fetlocks, and her crimson fringed tail hung listlessly behind her. She still could not make eye contact, and she stood with less spirit than a stone, neck hung from tall shoulders in a rather dim fashion. When he explained what she had come here searching for, the mare furrowed her brows. What reason would she have to make others forget? Would it be worth the price they might eventually pay?
The Sun God was right in giving her this quest, if she had indeed asked for the ability to make others forget. Ophelia understood the gravity of the power she would possess, and the repercussions of her actions. Would they live half lives like her? Would they be plagued by the same torment? The same questioning? Brows furrowed deeply as she considered what her former self wanted, the self that her friends loved and cherished. Her former self had made such deep and lasting impressions on so many, and Ophelia had to trust in that; it was all she had left to believe.
Cautiously, she looked up into the golden orbs of the Sun God, wincing at the brightness that made her look like more of a shell. The light illuminated all the holes in this personality, making her entirely transparent, selfish and shallow. She was not whole. Ktulu trusted her former self as well, believed in her and her choices. A sister she did not know encouraged her to be who she was, and now, she stood before the God of Fire. The Sun God had sunflowers in his mane, and she wondered why. Flowers seemed such an absurdity for this situation.
She blinked away saline from her eyes, and she turned her ears hesitantly to the side. "I have to believe in who I was, or I have nothing left," she replied, her whisper harsh with emotion. "I want what whoever I was before wants. I will do what I must, but I cannot continue this way. The injuries I have caused, the souls I have damaged..." she trailed, thinking of the look on Djinn's face. "Memories are all we possess in this life worth keeping; they hold us close to the ones we love and bind us tightly to one another. Our remembrances protect us from harm and define who we are. Without my past, I am nothing; I have no future."
|
CARRY YOUR CROSS
And I'll carry mine. Dig your own hole and you'll be fine.
|
roni
Undertow has come to take me. Guided by the blazing sun. Look at everything around us. Look at everything we've done.
Please. Anyone. I don't think I can save myself. I'm drowning.
|
Please tag me in every response!
| Helovian Ancient |
| Stallion :: Hybrid :: 17 hh :: Ageless |
| Admin |
The GOD of the SUN
Burn the whole world down
|
Trust who she was, she says. As if there is anything left of what she was. Not in the eyes of the Sun God, at least. Ophelia had come to him desperate and sad, weak and willing to harm others for her own benefit. That was not the Ophelia he had known; not the Ophelia that had so captured his attention and left him wanting to know more. Now she is a cold mortal with more herself in mind than any other being. She wishes to live in misery and make others forget, even after all of this. She is truly foolish indeed.
But still he wears her flowers in his hair.
For he had designed her task with her in mind. He had hoped that she might learn something, see the horror of her request first hand, and forget it. He had offered her a chance at a new life free of what haunted her; devoid of pain with the opportunity to start anew. He envies the gift, and he gives it to few. But she can not accept it, after all that he has done to bring her happiness. She has to return today and ask for what he he has tried to keep from her.
He cannot bring himself to deny a addict their drug. She will get what she wants, even if it means he will not. But if she is to be selfish, so is he.
"Take your magic, take your memories!" The God of the Sun replies, his voice a quiet roar, his wings turning to flame. The fire creeps up along his mane and threatens the delicate petals kept eternally fresh. "But if you must live with your magic, you cannot live with me. This is the last time we will see each other," he declares selfishly, whipping his tail behind him and letting it sting across his muscular thighs. A copy of himself appears, made of light. It lacks solidity and the same sculpted features; has no emotion in the eyes. It is nothing but a shell of the god, a robotic imitation without memory or mind. "Should you ever again need the services of light or fire, my emissary will meet you in my stead," the god says now with a quieter tone and a dying fire. It whirls away from the petals in smoke, leaving them clean and fresh as they were when he first received them. Perhaps he is being harsh; perhaps the punishment is too severe.
But she has been cruel, and she has been unkind. As light advances on her form, falling from his sky in blinding beams and restoring her memories as well as preserving those made anew, he lets himself fade away. He slips into the fire as it falls over the edge, lets his body tumble and meld into the lava below. The emissary stands as it was, still and cold, lacking the fire that makes the God of the Sun so alive. The light fades and all that is left of the God of the Sun is his bright shadow. It tilts its head, looks upon Ophelia with glowing, empty eyes. Into silence, the vestige speaks:"Your task is complete, mortal. You are free to go."
|
|
CREDITS
|
.svg/2000px-Google_Chrome_icon_(2011).svg.png){kind=icon}
⇒
Backfiring, Worth the Price? [Sun God]
