| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
She came quietly.
No desire did she have for conflict, war, or the bitter things she so scorned. Neither did she particularly wish to encounter Mirage; her heart clutched at the memory of Ophelia's dreaded words and furious anger. As she moved, poring over every detail, remembering the white mare's cold chiseled face, she tried desperately to see if there had been any sign of forgivance. Anything, a crack in the marble face; even just the thinnest of crevices. Nothing. Again her vision clouded, the ground blurring and the trees melting into the blue sky, green fading into blue somewhere unknown.
Tor stumbled, nearly falling, hooves scrabbling for a hold on earth, silver hair on her cheeks glistening wetly under the tear tracks that twisted down, dripping silently, filled with all her regrets and sorrows. Destrier had understood her need to leave; he hadn't been happy, but he accepted it. Unlike Ophelia. Unlike Mirage? Did the dark mare Tor had tried to save so long ago want her back? Clearly, otherwise these Edge members would not be here to fetch her. Yet why? She knew little- no, nothing- of the Edge Queen, or her position in life. Punishment, or maybe she just wanted to talk? Tor had this nagging feeling something was wanted of her, but she didn't know anything at all. She was out of the loop, and felt little want to speak, for fear the tears will fall harder and her voice will crack under the burdens of treachery she carries on her back.
Treachery. There was no nice word to put in its place; betrayal, backstabbing, coward, the one who abandons. Not once, but twice. She deserved whatever she got. Tor didn't want the Gods to help her. They shouldn't care for her anyways, with her god-awful record. The only thing she prayed for now was for her children, her innocent foals and her dearest Destrier; may they ever grow stronger and become the great horses they are meant to be.
Tor shook her head, the wetness on her face fading under the glittering light of the sun shining through the trees. The guards left her, perhaps sensing she was not going to run; or maybe they simply were going to be replaced by whoever had ordered her here.
WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.
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 |
03-07-2013, 11:21 PM
(This post was last modified: 03-07-2013, 11:22 PM by Mirage.)
larfsalot.deviantart.com
Just as Tor did not know much about the WeyrLeader, neither did Mirage know a great deal about Tor.
Well, she knew plenty about her. Lace had mentioned her, seasons ago, as a mare who could have proven to be a useful friend, kind and gentle, with an aptitude for healing. Mirage had met the mare, and given her permission for the draft to come and go as she pleased in the Edge - she was not about to stand in the way of friendship, and the little shadow mare had enjoyed their brief meeting besides. Since then, many a curious thing had occurred, ranging from Tor attempting to free herself from the Basin, to Tor attempting to steal Basin members from their confines as prisoners in the Throat - who were only acting as allies should, capturing members of the herd that had stolen the leader of their sister herd. Then Tor had come here, her sister had told her, seeking a home, pledging herself to the World's Edge, to those who resided here, to the lands. Rishima was not kind in her judgement of the mare, deeming her 'a twit who doesn't know whether she is coming or leaving half the time'. Tor had behaved much like she had joined the ranks, participating in a healer's gathering, proffering her knowledge and skills to the land. Tor had found love, and with that love, she had created two new lives to be raised within the comfortable borders of the Edge.
Then, the healer had left, returning to the wilds, and doing what? Mirage knew of this Grey group now, particularly as they were currently invading upon lands that were also her allies. That situation was something she didn't want to think about any more then necessary - and she had certainly done plenty of necessary thinking about it recently. Mirage had surmised that Tor was a member of the Grey - was she a current member, or former? What exactly did Tor believe in, if anything? What was she planning, if anything? Mirage's views on the matter needed more information to be provided before she would settle upon a judgement for this mare. She needed to know if Tor was capable of loyalty, of responsibility, whether she held any desires to be near her family - the little shadow was not about to take a mother away from her children, however, this was mostly for the children's sakes than the mother's. So Mirage called for her Seer to organise a party to escort the mare home, more in the style of a request than an order - she did not mean any harm to come to Tor, and had the mare wished to avoid coming to the Edge, Mirage would have gone to her whenever she got the chance. This method was certainly more efficient for one whose responsibilities were currently spread quite thin.
With a silent nod of understanding, Hellena, cloaked in mists and mystery as always, left the area, a fading image of a pale unicorn amongst the trees in the distance. Mirage stepped forward, standing before the pale draft as nothing more than a little shadow mare, nape holding her chiselled tiara with a gentle arc, eyes peering forth with passive curiosity. Her façade betrayed nothing, as she observed the mare that stood before her with tears glistening in her eyes. There was so much that needed to be said, so much that Mirage wanted to launch into, and yet, she restrained herself, her own heart yearning to make right this broken mare, to pick up the puzzle pieces and see whether she could help this mare find herself whole once more.
"Why do tears wet your cheek, Tor?"
 |
| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
It was as if the mare colored in shadows had appeared suddenly and silently. For lack of a better word, Tor would've called it almost eerie how quietly Mirage had materialized; and there was a slightly... no, more than slightly, a great feeling of... of mystery around her. Tor carefully allowed herself to look over her, in just a swift glance that could take in everything, for she was trained to be able to judge a wound's severity in a moment. If there were ever to be a war, gods forbid, she would need to categorize the most injured to least injured in a moment to ensure those who needed the care most would get it immediately. What first sprung to her eye was gold on black, a dragon, long and created of smooth, flowing lines unlike anything she had seen before; Tor could only recall seeing such elegant design with Ktulu, with the carefully crafted bear's paw upon her shoulder. As she tries to see it better, the thick ebony mane covers it. Second her eyes, gold as the tattoo on her shoulder. Then the details flowed in slowly. A medium body, lighter than Tor's heavy, rather softened form, muscles lax and unused to strenuous work. Mirage's form is lean, lithe and graceful, and as always with smaller horses Tor feels as if she is a clumsy bear beside a deer.
Her ears twitch, shifting forward. She cannot tell what, exactly, Mirage wants; but Tor shakes the matter away, instead focusing on the present. Eventually everything will be resolved, Tor thinks, at least, she does hope so. But why does she cry? The answer would be so lengthy... and she is not completely sure saying 'I feel like an idiot' would suffice. Tor sighs inwardly, a gesture she finds herself using much too often for her own good, and lets her mind roam for a moment. Ophelia; the Gray; the Edge; her children. The words repeat, sliding into a chant. Ophelia, the Gray, the Edge, her children. Her. Her changing. Changing too fast, for her own good, and if it be for better or worse, she knows not. Again the mare half-wants to shake her head, like a dog shedding water, to release herself of the constant thoughts; but instead, she becomes even more still, a white statue.
"I cry because I feel I have failed." The white mare says at last, too many moments later than probably polite. "I care too much for others for my own good. I am torn apart by more owing and my promises, and... no longer can I deal with it. I fear one day I really will not be able to stand it. Already I feel as if I'm fracturing under pressure and promises broken. How am I to remain standing when I am being crushed by things I have brought upon myself? I have lost friendships because of owing too much. Not just lost them, wrecked them, torn them to pieces that will not allow themselves to be fixed." It's strange how much better she feels after saying it aloud. Bizarre indeed... hadn't Lei always told her to open up?
TOR
Without each other, we are all lost- so keep yourself together, and stay with me
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WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.
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 |
larfsalot.deviantart.com
The mare speaks, and Mirage sees what she thinks, she hopes, is the truth. Not many have dared lie to the mare, or else, if they have lied to her, they have fled away from her before facing the consequences of their lies unravelling. Tor speaks of taking on too many responsibilities, and Mirage wonders at what exactly they were. Her own promises to others, her own energy was spread so wide over a vast many lands, creatures, souls - How did Mirage cope? A presence touched her mind then, a voice that always reminded Mirage of her mother, her sister, and a daughter that was yet to exist. No words were exchanged, merely a comforting caress of souls, a mental embrace that was far more intimate than anything physical ever could be. Yes, the little shadow mare had the gleaming golden soul of Akaith bonded to her own, helping her through all her tasks, giving her an outlet when the turmoil that is constantly writhing about inside her threatens to overwhelm her normally indifferent façade.
However, for now, Mirage held her passive expression, absorbing all that Tor gave to her with a gaze that showed she heard what the mare said, but did not let on the thoughts that cascaded about her cranium in response to them. The little shadow does think, however, very seriously about what Tor said. They weren't dissimilar, at least in what they had been through, and evidently in their ability to feel compassion and affection for a great amount of souls. But they were different in how they handled it - Mirage had used her compassion to be elected a leader of a group that searched for peace, acceptance, balance - What did Tor use her gifts for? Did she help others, or did she hurt them more often than not? The WeyrLeader had noticed the gloom that had settled over her dark Protector, the large and domineering Destrier, and his little children, as they missed the one who had brought them life and happiness. "Not all has been lost." Her voice murmurs, low and melodic, a whisper more than anything else.
"Why did you seek acceptance into the Edge?" From the way the pale maiden was fretting over her friendships lost amongst the Grey, it was a wonder to Mirage that she would jeopardise it to join a herd in the first place.
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| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
Where exactly was Destrier? Or her twins, for that matter? She had thought they would come immediately- for she had left to find her sire and dam, as quickly as she could, or at the very least her near-brother Nanook. His herd had been bountiful and joyful when she had come across them so recently, seeking advice. But the white stallion so close to her heart had simply urged her to join his herd, forget about her worries and rest her head against him, to breathe and relax. Magic, he did not know of; he disliked it when Tor had healed the dying child, telling her it was not natural. He told her Helovia was not a healthy place, with the so-called magic- it was dangerous to meddle in the affairs only nature should handle. Yet even so, she missed Helovia, only after a day or two of staying with him, speaking, healing, and so she had bid her due farewells and left.
Nanook had not been happy, leaving the mare leave to the complex land. Mostly, he was a simple stallion, one who kept the mares by his side. Seeing one walk away, without doing anything, was a huge effort. The only reason the white stallion let her leave was in knowing that she had family, as did he, and she was too close to him even after many years separated to stop her.
Not all was lost, but much of it was. She would have to work even harder than ever to pick up the pieces. As for why she had left the Gray... there were many reasons. "I joined a mercenary band without knowing what I got myself into. I thought myself among family, even those outcasted from a true herdland, but for a much too long time Ophelia did not visit me. I was so close to her- I looked for her all throughout Helovia and never found her. I gave it up. I thought it a lost cause. I did not want to stay with a band of cutthroats and assassins; I did not want to sleep around killers. It might have been different, should more healers have joined me; but for a time, I was alone, without Ophelia. My resolve broke." So she left, without telling anyone, for who really cared for her as family except for Paladin's pale daughter? "I came here, where I knew Destrier lived, and I had a few friends already. I was tired of being lost in a wild landscape alone. I have wandered for so many years... my feet grow weary."
TOR
Without each other, we are all lost- so keep yourself together, and stay with me
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WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.
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 |
larfsalot.deviantart.com
As always, the WeyrLeader of the Qian listened to the pale mare, ears obediently pressed forward, expression guarded to show nothing more than a passive acceptance of the information Tor willingly spilled forth. She spoke of her actions honestly, and Mirage wondered at just how naïve the healer was - but perhaps, had Mirage felt the same way about an influential leader figure, she would have done the same thing. Had others not followed her on no more than a small exchange of words? The DragonHeart knew that to every story, there was more than one side, there was always multiple interpretations of one action, one word, on conversation. How she wished she could look into the mind of the healer and view the events she spoke of with unbiased eyes, to drink the facts without the added emotional confusion and attachment. It was not that Mirage doubted Tor's words, or feelings. It was more that she was fascinated at the passion that had ben inspired in the mare, at how all the love and devotion had been trampled upon and caused her to seek out a new residence, a new safe place to store such emotions. With a pause the width of a breath passing between Tor's words and Mirage's next words, the WeyrLeader spoke again.
"Do you know what the Qian is, Tor? What we stand for? What we strive for?" She asked the question seriously, albeit with only a subtle inflection of her otherwise bland tones. Motioning to speak again, she overrode any response the healer might have been about to make. "We stand for justice, for equality. We strive to give back to the world the balance that is forever shifting towards chaos and death - we hope to breathe life and joy back into it. We are a family, Tor. We would sooner die for each other than see our loyalties be swayed." Why did she explain it all? Why should she? Mirage was not one to do anything without a purpose - except perhaps dance, but even that held a purpose for the mare. Mirage outlined the specifics of the Qian so that she could pose her next question with the self assurance that she had provided information where Tor's previous cause had not, so that she could know that the healer now made an informed reaction to her next question. It was not an invitation, but rather, a test, a request for a self assessment of one's suitability to potentially be a part of such a wondrous thing. With her heavy stare pressing down upon the pale draft's own gaze, Mirage's accented tones poised the query with the utmost of import, her eyes taking on a passionate glow as she dared to hope that she could earn some kind of long-lasting loyalty out of a creature who had only proved herself to be disloyal in the past.
"Do you deem yourself capable of joining only one cause? One family?"
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| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
Tor fell silent immediately as Mirage spoke, finding her own mind racing at the simple question. Did she know? Had she always been too used to leaving? She left her family- for her family, she had thought- but what if it was for herself? Was she dishonest with herself constantly? Was she selfish, not selfless? What if she had been wrong all along? Where was Destrier, and her babies? She hoped they would be here soon. She missed them, more than she missed Ophelia. As I should, the white mare scolded herself, with a sudden twist of her heart. How could she think that simply leaving would solve anything? Her foals needed her. Now. Her maternal nature began to sink in again, awaken her briskly to the needs of her family, regardless of what other personal matters she may have on her mind.
Family, and equality, and justice. All perfect in a picture perfect world. But this world was not framed. If it was, Ophelia would understand perfectly her broken heart and remain close to her. Her family, her herd far to the North, would know she was alive and well. Her twins would know she loved them more than the world itself. Destrier, sweet Destrier, would welcome her, even after her poor farewell. She needed to speak to him again, talk to him of events transpired and return to his side, heal him when he fell and patch him up, with a brush of a nuzzle on the cheek.
"Do you deem yourself capable of joining only one cause? One family?" Was she? Tor's lungs trembled slightly as she inhaled deeply, truly and wholly wondering if she was correct. Was she ready and prepared to enter the herd, properly settle her weary legs? "I doubt anyone will be prepared to take me in at this point in time. But I have little ones, and a mate; I should no longer be wandering. It is time for me to settle, time for me to devote myself to one family. If I promise not to leave, I somehow doubt you will believe that, with my... more than poor track record. Yet I believe I am ready." Tor finally replied, a touch hesitantly, and yet her softer voice grew slightly stronger, and while remaining humble, held some small grain of truth in it, and a grain that if nurtured, would perhaps grow into a loyalty would would remain strong to the end of her days.
No promises I will make as narrator, but let me say she would rather die than leave Destrier, and Luken and Laila, again.
TOR
Without each other, we are all lost- so keep yourself together, and stay with me
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WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.
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 |
larfsalot.deviantart.com
Mirage studied the mare. In silence, she wondered at what Tor thought - the reading of minds was not something she was capable of, perceptive though she may be. The painted mare's thoughts seemed to be scattered, and the WeyrLeader could understand why. She had just lost what she thought was a family figure, a strong sister, a group that she had devoted herself to, even if she had made mistakes along the way.
The little shadow mare was not one to crucify another for making a minor mistake, a lapse in judgement, or else an insignificant blunder. It was all circumstantial. Mirage did not enjoy seeing her family hurt. Destrier, and the young foals that he raised, were a part of the extended family Mirage had created, the cause that she led. They belonged to the Qian - Tor never had. But they were hurting, and as she had done in the past, to Torasin, when he was hurting over Brooke, she wanted to mend that. To restore the love, the balance that would bring their happiness. Mirage was the Qian, every one of her actions held a purpose that strove towards restoring equilibrium to the world, to an individual. Particularly to those she held dear.
Despite Tor's defeated attitude, it pleased Mirage, who hid her pleasure beneath a vacant façade, to see that hope must still exist within the painted mare, for she spoke of wanting to settle, wanting to devote herself to one cause. She stated that she thought she was ready.
Had she not already stated this to Rishima?
Mirage was at a crossroads of sorts. The mare knew what she wanted to do, but she held her sister's opinion very highly - Rishima was her confidant since birth, after all. The moon-marked mare had made it perfectly clear to Mirage what she thought of her intentions with this paint, and while Mirage longed to allow Tor to return, her fellows would need a little bit more convincing.
"I am glad to hear that." The words were breathed through charred lips, imbued with warmth and honesty. Mirage wanted the mare, truly she did, but she was held back by the stern voice of her sister, as well as the hurt of her herdmates.
"I want to welcome you Tor. I want to offer you a share in my home, my family, the Qian." Once again she spoke with honesty lining her words, with hope glistening behind her eyes. But there was also a guardedness about her, a restriction to freedom. "You are welcome to a position of Nurse, should you wish it. But know this before you make your decision; you will not progress through the ranks of the herd unless you can prove yourself to them all." It was only fair, the WeyrLeader thought. Surely if Tor wanted this enough, she would be willing to meet the challenge? To face the judgement of those around her, and rise still? Mirage hoped so, she sorely hoped that Tor would accept, and succeed.
[ ooc : Basically, Tor is welcome to join, but understand that she would be required to gain the favour of every member in a Tier above her in order to progress out of a Tier 4 rank.
If you accept, Tor is welcome to post at the herd meeting, and will no longer be a prisoner. C: ]
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| World's Edge Nurse |
| Mare :: Equine :: 17.1 :: 9 |
| Adoptable |
Tor watched, tears still wet on silver cheeks, as Mirage went on, her voice quiet and warm, and for a strange moment she felt as if this mare's warmth was the sun, drying the glistening tracks on her face.
Perhaps Mirage was unaware of the impact of her words, but Tor bolted upright, quivering subtly along her alabaster body, so that her feathers trembled and her soft, wet brown eyes shone with a new light. Never had she expected to rejoin the herd, regardless of the price. It was bizarre, this new feeling that rooted in the sadness- determination. Start over, a clean slate. She had broken so many, and herself among them- why not begin anew? So what if it took her weeks, or seasons, or even years to gain their trust- she was willing to take it. At last, she could be among family. No matter how long it took, there was fierce ache to be accepted.
"Mirage..." Tor breathed, eyes sparkling with renewed hope. "I will prove your fair judgement, so much more than I ever hoped for, is rightly done. Not only will I prove myself to those of higher rank, but those beside me, and the foals; I will do it as many times as I must."
Tor shifts, suddenly impatient to find the children that leaving has left holes in her heart- though that makes little sense- and the stallion she loved with regret. "Mirage, I know I have but just held a few sentences in conversation with you- but may I find Destrier now, and my children? I have regretted leaving them, for however brief."
TOR
Without each other, we are all lost- so keep yourself together, and stay with me
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WORDS OF COMPASSION ARE STRONGER THAN ANY ACT OF POWER.
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