| Hidden Account |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17hh :: 5 Buff: NOVICE |
| charks |
05-02-2013, 05:04 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-02-2013, 05:05 AM by Belial.)
Belial the Duplicator
Kill of all my demons and my angels might die too Demonchild travels to the icy north, and finds the orb to be a curse.
He has no desire to carry along the cage of a soul, when he is empty. There is nothing to bind to, no love to share; our spawn of the darkness will never be able to cling with any affinity to the dim life within, and so he sees it as an unnecessary burden, a heavy weight in the crook of his neck that he cannot shed with enough haste. Oh, there was some attachment, some brilliant and glittering satisfaction at the defeat of the monster spat forth from hell, the tyrant of fire that dared encroach upon his domain. Yes, it is true, the intervention of the Gods had truly put the devil into its dismal place; but the child of angels had won nonetheless, escaping with the accursed orb caught delicately between callous lips and treacherous thoughts.
Cloven hooves leave slices in the snow, broken slashes against pale, powdered floor, melting hollow craters in the ice that lurks below. The silver strands of lengthy tail brush indelicate sweeping arcs across the frozen waste as the Seraphim's son journeys on, and as the sun reaches its zenith on the third day he crosses out of the land of clear crystal and refracted glory. But the orb is not with him; it is left, forgotten, to glitter and wait atop a spire of discarded bones and long-lost dreams. He has abandoned it, the demonchild, for he cannot bring himself to care; he is gone now to find his own kind, and the burden of another life is not one he feels he must carry along. It is not magic; it is not power; and so it is not of interest to the mahogany monster.
Will it be found? Will it fall? He cares not. He has the memories of a mother and the proud of blood to keep company for his twisted heart; he needs not the burden of a needy soul and a hungry mouth to accompany it.
[reserved] |
image credits
table by whit
| World's Edge Moon Advocate |
| Mare :: Equine :: 16.2 :: 15 Buff: NOVICE |
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Kali :: Common Griffin :: Draining Clutch
Charks |
05-04-2013, 12:55 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-04-2013, 12:56 AM by Rishima.)
White wings above a white world, and the gryphon flies in the dazzling sun. She was found here, long ago, or so she has been told by her equine; the last remaining memory of a love so strong it prevailed even through death. Kali is not sure she understands what is meant by this, but she thinks that this love must be something like what she feels for her equine, for there is no chance of something as meager as death ever parting their hearts and souls.
The black mare stands away, at the base of the hill that leads to the spiraling prism of skulls and stone where the pulsing orb sits. They watched from a distance, dark blotch and pale speck on the distant horizon, watched as the four-horned boy abandoned his sacred charge. Far be it for them to abandon the treasure; Kali flew immediately, carried on predatory wings to the tower of life, and caught the orb between tender talons. Now she carries it back to the mare, and the pair look on in quiet admiration, wondering what will become of the life within.
The nestling will love, Kali argues emphatically.
Rishima is not so sure. She will be too young.
Then we can help her.
The hybrid senses reluctance, the same reluctance that arises every time she brings up the egg within her soulmate. She understands the war waging in her bonded's soul, but at the same time cannot fathom it at all - Kali loves the unborn child with all her heart. Why can't the mare?
Very well. Let's take it back to the Edge.
A cheerful cry of grateful glee; she preens the mare gently before grasping the child and taking wing, leading the pair home. Now, even if the mare cannot bond with the nestling as she should, at least the child will never be alone.
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