the Rift


[PRIVATE] Kissing Frozen Flowers :: Mauja

Athena2 Posts: 48
Dragon's Throat Pupil
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1hh :: 4 Years 8 Months
Adoptable
#1




Some time between finding Lana and then discovering her and Aryel had escaped, Athena had started to notice a change that had existed inside her for quite some time. When first she had arrived, she had no qualms with the people around her and instead had desired only to finish her quest and leave in peace. When Psyche had caught her and forced her to stay, Athena had started to dislike staying in the beautifully cruel land of the Basin. She longed for the crimson sands of home, the warm sunshine and kind faces she knew so well. Yet even then she did not hold anything against the inhabitants, merely accepting their ways and not desiring to change them, because who was she to judge them? Perhaps they were that way because of oppression, destruction, or they had been raised that way. Yet, she had been left behind. Aryel and Lana had disappeared without her, and because of that Athena felt as if she had been abandoned. She had done everything she could to help Lana, and still the femme had left her without a breath of word in warning. Athena was left taskless, friendless, and tired. Without something to consume her time, she often went wandering with no real aim. Never straying out of the Basin, but also finding places not many members traveled. Though she had found a friend- at least on her end, she was unsure of how he saw her- in Mauja, she did not desire the company of those who were more oppressive. So instead she found ill-traveled paths, where the snow lay untouched by hoof and sprawled out ahead of her like sheets of welcoming whiteness. Her feathered tail fluttered quietly, the beating of wings that would never rest upon her shoulders all that accompanied her soft breaths that crisp night. Though, it was always crisp and cold in the Aurora Basin. Like fluffy cotton candy clouds, her breaths blew back in a strange mixture of warm and cold against her golden cheeks.

Athena clearly had no idea where she was going, but that was often the best part in her travels through the little-seen lands of the home of the unicorns. Extravagantly long tail left small marks in the snow as it swayed to and fro in a rather feline fashion, leaving a clear path wherever she walked. That evening- for it was nearly midnight, she idly realized- the moon was full and pregnant in the sky, the northern lights dancing overhead and painting her shimmering form in their colors. The path ahead, despite there being a lack of one, was clearly illuminated by the bright glow of her ruling Lady overhead. Faintly Athena missed her patron, the Goddess she was so devoted to. Every evening she sent up a prayer, asking for guidance and thanking her Lady for allowing her this experience in order to grow, apologizing for her inability to return to the Veins and finish her quest. This guiding light, so bright on this day, only served to comfort her aching and lonely heart as she trekked uphill. Needing to be closer to her Lady, far away as she may be, Athena had found the tallest part of the Basin and started climbing. She needed, irrationally, to be as close to the sky as she could that night. Despite never wishing to leave the ground despite her species, Athena wanted to be near the light of the Lady that had aided her so in past times.

When she could climb no farther, the land leveled out and became a place Athena was awed to even see. Tall evergreens towered in a half-circle, white as the snow that forever graced their branches. And there, in that small meadow, sprouting from the snow stubbornly, were hundreds of lily-soft petaled flowers. How they lived in such a harsh climate was beyond her, but they were painted in moonsilver without a single variant of color. Large, full petals caught the light and reflected it back to the moon they resembled so beautifully. Athena found she was the only source of color on that clifftop, watching the flowers dance in the wind like a reminder that even in the harshest of places beauty and simplicity could flourish. Golden canvas, glowing under the moon and the northern lights overhead, moved carefully among these blossoms. Not daring to place her hoof where any one of them rested, not wanting to disturb their beauty. Curious pale muzzle reached down to nudge at a perfumed cusp of one of them, and found them just as cold as the snow and wind around them. What had she expected? That in their strange divinity in this land they would be anything special, anything differing from the rest of the world? Perhaps.

Soft amber eyes turned skyward to where her Lady glowed high above. Feeling a sudden urge to speak, to confess, her words began to softly fall like snowflakes to rest upon the inviting flowers that would hold her secrets as loyally as her Lady. "I often wonder why it was you sent me here, my Lady. I never doubted your decision, but now I see that this place is changing me. Is it in the way you had foreseen?" It was her own private confessional, and her honey voice seemed as if to spread and fill the air without shattering the silence in a cruel fashion. "These people...I have grown to care for some of them. Is it you that keeps me from harm in these lands? Or is it merely my own unexplainable luck? Regardless...I feel that maybe I do not wish to return home. I wish to care for these children of snow, not because I desire to change their views, but because they seem so impossibly cold and broken..." The light of the orb overhead glowed in the reflection of her eyes, mottled browns focused reverently upon it. Were any listening, she was unashamed of her own confessions. And why would she be, anyways? Truth was all that spilled from her heart, and that image seemed to turn the snowflakes she had likened to her words red, staining the flowers below with the color when they dropped upon their pale and welcoming canvas. "I wonder, has anyone shown them warmth? Are they as reserved with each other as they are with outsiders, even of Unicorn breed? It seems such a sad life, if that is true. Maybe I cannot change them, and maybe that isn't my job. But I just wish...I just wish I could show them that I care. That somebody is there, that somebody will be there always to pick them up and dust them off, kiss the spots that ache and love them for every bad trait, every flaw. Is it wrong of me to still remain this way when many of them would feel no regret in watching me turn their snow with my own lifeblood?" She knew such souls existed, had seen it in the dark eyes of Aviya and d'Artagnan. Had watched as the father had given his daughter the feathers of her friend, as if it were a trophy.

Sigh escaped before she could catch it, and warm gaze was shielded as her eyes fell closed for a few moments; basking in the moon's rays. "The darkness I see in them, I only wish to embrace it and chase it away. Heal them not with anything that could aid them physically, but with my own love. Is it because I hail from a land of warmth?" Even here, in the most secret of places, she dare not utter the name of the land from which she had hailed. Even if ears were not nearby, she was wary of bringing war or distress upon her home, not for her own well-being. Eyes opened a sliver, softly lidded as she wished that her Lady could be there to give her guidance. She had no doubts that her Lady had desired to turn her colder, make her wiser. And she was, but perhaps not in the way she had anticipated. Maybe if she had been treated as Lana had, this would not be a problem, and she would have been molded as her Lady had desired. Athena could not hold this against the Goddess, for she didn't doubt that she needed the toughening up. Yet her heart remained as sunny and warm as the one that always warmed her home. Gaze always inviting and accepting, far from judgemental. Yet another sigh escaped, a silver-crafted butterfly that flew away from her in yet another cloud of frost. "I do not know what to do, my Lady. I am not wise like you, strong enough to decide what I can do and fight for it. All I have is love, and often I wonder if the saying that love conquers all is true in the least. I do not feel I hold any importance simply by having this trait..." For the first time since beginning to speak, she dropped her gaze away from the glowing celestial being and crown moved to crane down towards the flowers, inhaling their soft pure scent that was all that could distinguish them from the snow. "I belong in no place, now."

::ooc- Thought they needed a private thread finally <3 Mauja is fully allowed to hear/listen to all of her confessions, or as little as you'd like. Permission from tamme to create the flowers used here!

Athena</style>
  Have to stand up to be stronger</style>

image by seyyed_mostafa_zamani @ flickr.com
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#2
This has been pushed back to early April. :)

In the darkness he lurked behind evergreen boughs, sheltered and shielded from view; snowy white and midnight black he merged with the background, the irregularity of his spots breaking him up against the terrain. He was a ghost of snow and moonlight, bred for lands like these, yet he wondered if it was not cowardly to be able to hide so well, even from those he did not mean to hide from. He simply had no choice.

Blue eyes, bleached to white, were upturned, following the twisting dance of fire flickering in the sky; sheets of red, green, and blue arced across the heavens, sometimes slow, sometimes fast, at times disappearing only to appear in another place. It was mesmerizing, a display that could keep his mind occupied for hours until it faded either into dawn or nothing, and to watch it soothed the restlessness in his soul. Steady breaths steamed into the night, his cool body motionless; sitting upon one of the sturdy tree branches was Irma, wings snug against her body and her icy gaze flitting rapidly from one thing to the other. She was his guard while he let his mind wander the starry skies.

Movement caught her attention and they both grew still. Mauja couldn't see her, but knew that it was Ari, their single, remaining prisoner; the trees kept them apart, for now, but Irma was watching her.

He closed his eyes, and merged his vision with the owl's.

She seemed.. awed, by the meadow, by the cold flowers reflecting the color of the moon. Her face was serene, beautiful, in the pale wash of starlight, and suddenly her attention turned to the sky, where the northern lights still danced, watched by the bright moon. Words spilled softly from her mouth, and Irma's head turned ever so slightly, to catch them at the best angle. Behind the cover of trees, Mauja's head lowered with the faintest of sighs, thinking he knew all too well this Lady Athena spoke of. Once, it had been him, standing as close to the sky as he could and asking her what he was meant to do — Aylin had come to speak with him, telling him, subtly, that he was blind.

And now he wasn't anymore, but Ari still was. The moon was not one to be trusted. Once her reflection had laid across his eyes at night, but now they were clear and black. He was free, but the golden mare who spoke so softly of her loving nature was not. Perhaps it would be kinder to let her stay ignorant. After a moment she fell silent, but he waited, motionless, where he was, not wanting to disturb her lest she had more to spill to the distant moon. But no more words came, and Mauja breathed life into his still limbs, disentangled himself from the trees.. slipped through the gaps in them until he stood beside one, the meadow of flowers stretching out before him. His head was half-lowered, his body half in the shadows, but the cold moonlight glinted off the sharp tip of his horn.

"You are a beautiful creature, Ari," he said quietly, but the inherent strength in his voice would make it carry. Some part of him felt guilty at having heard the words she had spoken, but to leave quietly, or worse, be found standing behind the trees, wouldn't have made him feel well. In the tree, Irma neither said anything nor moved. "Far too beautiful to devote your life to someone like the moon." Gently he stepped away from the last tree, his frosted hooves finding an easy, assured path through the snow and grass, sometimes brushing a flower's stalk aside but never trampling any of them. The light from moon and stars fell upon his white hide, his edges gleaming softly; for all his ice, he was nothing but soft snow tonight. Further along its rim he halted, peering at her with curious eyes.
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Athena2 Posts: 48
Dragon's Throat Pupil
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1hh :: 4 Years 8 Months
Adoptable
#3




Vain, she feels, and yet in this private moment of soul searching she cares not that every trait belonging to her is spilling from her own lips. A wingless golden angel in a city of white, and yet she doesn't truly feel alone. Who misses her in her natal home? Does anyone recall her name, her presence? Friends had not been a part of her rituals, if only because they did not seek her out and she often found herself afraid to intrude. Far sooner would she choose the chill of the wind against her coat over the loneliness that had plagued her in the heat of the place she had called home most of her life. In a sea of blossoms she is a tiny figurine, stature naturally small yet dwarfed in this massive land she still finds herself lost in. Even so she does not feel the struggle for air like that of a drowning soul, and drifts in a haze of confusion and detachment through this world she cannot name. What is it to her, after all? Surely not home, and yet not a prison. Nor is it a vacation destination, or a rest stop on a route she never had planned. It is not the home of a friend or lover, nor that of a sibling or mother. Dancing lights overhead should not make her heart flutter and sing in praise and awe of this beautiful display, should instead make her feel trapped and isolated, yet she does not. Never ending landscapes of bloodless powder should make even the bravest creature wither in fear of becoming lost and forgotten. So, why doesn't she?

Oblivious to the other that shares her laments and presence, she brushes her pale aureate lips over the frosted surface of the nearest flower, and giggles breathlessly at the cold that melts upon them. A flurry goes up before her nostrils at this exhalation and it makes a mousey squeak of surprise escape her lungs, only to dissolve into giggles once more. Amusement replaces the weary, lost feeling that had her coming to the bosom of her Goddess that fantasy night. She is no simple creature in mind or mannerism and yet she wants to erase the aches in her breast, because there is no other around to help smooth them away. Or is there? Athena believed she was friendless, and though she was a bit hesitant to consider the carmine locked shadow that had helped her here a friend, the name of another floats temptingly on the edge of her mind. Mauja, though she is still unsure if he considers her the same. Would he allow himself to befriend a species below him, with a status just as lowly with the unseen shackles around her delicate ankles?

Perhaps her answer is meant to come tonight, for there is movement and sound that doesn't fit the wisp of snow on curling winds or shifting needles upon dark pines. Snow breaks beneath the forward push of another's legs, and deep honey and molasses irises flicker up curiously in their childish wide-eyed wonder at the purposefully striding bodice that falls within her line of sight. He is a mirage beneath the boughs, and had the first breath of his words not given her an area to search, she likely would have dismissed the shuffling of his hooves without seeing his flickering form. Previously her lips had been curved as if someone had taken a soft paintbrush dipped in glittering, muted sunlight and swirled the edges in her amusement. Now it is a warm glow, face brightening as a name is placed to the image he gives her, faint and illusionary as it may be. The haunter of her immediate thoughts, though Mauja does not haunt her as it may suggest. He is kind and mannered, in every encounter she has with him, and the word does not match him, for he is no ghoul or ghost with harsh eyes and no concern for the living. Crown rises, absent of the horn that catches the shards of the full moon's light where he stands.

Only once the words are fully spoken and free of his mouth do they click in her mind. Vibrant smile turns shy and unsure, unable to believe or accept such a compliment. In silence she awaited the gentle fall of his syllables, knowing in some instinctive way that there was more to come. Pale silvery blonde locks sway in the edges of her vision, wishing to hide behind them like some demure filly wishing to escape from the gaze of her Romeo. Modesty fits her like a well-worn glove, so romantic feelings do not flush her cheekbones with buzzing warmth or give her skin a pale rose glow beneath her coat. The strength that carried his sentence over the sea of silver separating them only made him feel that much larger to her, an all-encompassing presence that exceeded the physical difference between them. Again the soft shushing of the snow draws her mottled eyes and she watches as he moves forward once more. Attentively she pricks her ears and lets the cocoon of insecurity melt away once more. Smile regains its glow, even as confusion falters it moments later when he speaks again. Move, speak, stop. Move, speak, stop. He is no longer advancing, and yet she can't bear the frigidity in their distance, especially with the words he entices her with.

Instead, it is her who closes the distance. Each step is chosen and made with care, for she is in the thick of these strange, hardy plants and cannot breeze through them with the ease he displays. Befuddlement is a cloud over her features, but the happiness she displays at his presence is unable to be dimmed by it. Warm browns meet cold blues, and yet he still only strikes her as kind. After all, had he not just complimented her moments earlier? "Mauja," she greeted softly, smile teasing her maw. It was rarely ever missing, for she kept the seriousness unveiled this eve as close to herself as possible. Muzzle extended in an invitation, neck stretching up and out towards the tall brute without pressing the touch onto him or demanding one in return. It would be unfair to simply press herself to his skin without letting him choose to accept or deny her.

Greeting melted once more and crown tilted to the side, observing him in the same candid manner she always did. "I...I don't understand, Mauja. What is wrong with her? Am I doing wrong? Has she caused harm?" Anxiety laced her suddenly, chest constricting in fear that she had decided to follow in the steps of an ethereal being that had caused harm to her home. After all, she had been in the Throat during the brutality of the last Tallsun and the exile of the Sun God. Nervously she searched his face, completely bare to him and to all others she encountered. How easily he could shape her, hurt her, taint her. How strange that the only one who had even shown an interest in it was the Goddess they discussed in that very moment. Was it simply by chance and inherent luck that Athena had managed to slip past the vile forces that would prey upon her innocent nature? Or had all the small bumps been collected and turned into a massive fire that would ravage her in one fell swoop sometime in the future?

Athena</style>
  Have to stand up to be stronger</style>

image by seyyed_mostafa_zamani @ flickr.com
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#4
She was as he remembered; small, golden, but so warm, like the sun itself resided in her very skin. The moment her eyes settled upon his moonlit frame her expression lightened up, like she'd seen someone pleasant — an old friend, perhaps, and not one of the cold beasts who kept her shackled to the north. But then again, it should not surprise him, not with the soft words she'd spoken to the night, and, unwittingly, to the owl, the constant guardian of these lands of snow and chill. Stone-hearted and vigilant she remained upon her branch, her eyes elsewhere.

His words seemed to touch her, like sunlight touching a night-blooming flower, though she did not quite wilt, merely.. hid away, like what he'd said was something she wouldn't quite believe, nor wished to associate with. A slight smile curled the corner of his mouth, elegantly masking the slight surprise he felt. Some piece of his soul, of his heart, had stirred, but not the part in which dreams of black and white mingled.. no; it came from the same place that other emotions came from, the faint wash of pride and affection associated with viewing his children. Something about Ari, so innocent and young in some ways, made him want to protect her, to steer her through her life, and speak to her of the truths he knew. And on the tail of that came, just as surely as the sun casts a shadow, the stab of guilt, the whisper of doubt, the subtle suggestion of violence, of releasing the cold into his blood.. rectify the problem, cure the weakness... It would hurt so much more than a stab to the heart. With nothing to betray the moments of division beneath he wrenched it aside, soothed himself and sealed his heart away; these were things he could ponder some other day, for that which mattered was what he did in the end.. not what he did here, today. Even if his heart rebelled at times, his mind remained loyal.

She seemed to wait there, out on the flowers, her breath steaming gently into the colorful night, hiding behind her pale forelock. Sometimes he couldn't help but feel like the greatest villain of all, snow-soft and gentle, diplomatic and friendly, caring even.. while knowing the depth of darkness which lay beneath his skin, and how the cold, razor-sharp wind howled across the barren landscape of his soul. Night-white eyes blinked, steady as the trees themselves; where his motions ceased, hers began, drawing her closer until she let his name fall from her lips, like something precious, a gift, and not the name of someone who could throw her off the mountains and watch her body break and crumble. Perhaps, he thought, his eyes held by hers, because she knows that I wouldn't, without very good reason. The small, lopsided smile grew a fraction larger, but still a gentle expression, and as her muzzle extended, his did too.

She was no prisoner here, not in the presence of the Lord, and their plush noses met in a friendly touch. Warm breath streamed out of his nostrils, rising like smoke in the cold night towards the sky. The dance of colors cast their diluted glow back down to earth, shimmering and flickering across snow and hides. And, just as he was about to say something, something which left his mind entirely, she recalled his comment about the moon, and concern filled her up.. anxiety in her voice... One of Mauja's ears rotated back for a moment, before coming forward again. It was not the stalwart denial of a fanatic, like his own encounter with Aylin, but rather the confusion of someone who had just been told maybe their idol isn't who they thought. Part of him wondered if maybe it hadn't been better if he'd kept his mouth shut, because what did he have to offer her but bitterness and cynicism? He had no other god to offer her, no salvation, just broken truths and a not so endearing picture to paint of them. But would it be kind to let her wallow in the same faith as he had, until she turned her back on Athena, too? Wouldn't it be better to take the blow, now, than later, when it would hurt even more?

And did she truly trust him so much that she was worried by the opinions of a bitter old ice-cold statue?

"I was once her King," he said quietly, raising his head to let his eyes rove the horizon, the line between sky and earth so distorted here in the mountains. The days in the Edge had been.. different, but well all the same, and he still missed the foggy forest and pines, the scent of brine and the discordant cry of gulls... "Chosen, just as Ra was chosen by the Sun, and Gossamer by the Earth — and as Time chose Psyche." The smile playing across his face had a certain sad edge to it. "I followed her, blindly even, ruled by her divine grace and will. But Mirage, that dragon, ran a band of Moon worshipers, and their faith was, apparently, better than ours. While choosing our Doctor to sire her son she betrayed us to them, and has since never offered explanation nor apology." He shrugged, a roll of his snowy shoulders, and turned his pale eyes back to hers; a year after the defeat it still stung, but at the same time it sounded petty almost. "We did nothing wrong," he continued quietly. "We supported her when the Sun scorched the lands, we suffered through his wrath and sought to heal the Edge, took the blows for her — and we were rewarded with betrayal. Loyalty means nothing to her, for she does only what her fickle whims and desires ask of her. What does it say about her, that she willingly sends a loyal pegasus into the midst of those who are rumored to loathe them? Where it was likely you'd lose your life just by entering?

"She is a god, Ari. She's selfish and cruel, and even if you're someone who follows her she cares little for your well-being."

angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Athena2 Posts: 48
Dragon's Throat Pupil
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1hh :: 4 Years 8 Months
Adoptable
#5




He is granite, and she is gold. He is smooth and unblemished in his array of dark stars, a perfect statue that is a pleasure to view. She is tarnished and unnatural, dull and plain, but she shines when someone shines their light upon her, and she supposes that’s…enough. He is like a prince from some other world, a dimension walker who pierces the souls of every stranger with ice blue irises. Distant, perfect, careful. Always aware of the emotions that flutter within his eyes, Athena knows he hides so much from her, but she can’t wrap her mind around any of it being cruel. How can it be, when his lips curve kindly and his eyes warm under her gaze? But she feels out of place, here with him. He is perfection, and she is imperfect. They simply do not match, and Athena knows it. Wonders quite often what he sees in her that strikes a tentative friendship between them. Does he do it for a reason? Or is he truly the only unfrozen soul in this cold, cold world? He seems so warm, her Knight of Granite, and yet she is hesitant to touch him in fear she will be proven wrong. Dreads the possibility that the princely stallion was as untouchable to her as he rightly should be. Was it wrong for an imperfect flower with a few petals torn to yearn for the sun that would give it life and hope? Or should it wilt and give up the struggle? He is the sweetest peach at the topmost branch of a dangerously high tree, and Athena longed to climb towards its heavenly post even if it meant she would be hurt in the end. She’s so terribly lonely, and here he is like a shield to the cold wind of it, protecting her and warming her. Predictably, this chivalry drew her like a helpless moth to a flame, blind to the possibility of being burned.

They’re such opposites, and Athena knows she’ll never be on a level where he will see her as his equal, because why would he when he is so regal and she is so much a peasant? Even so she draws forth, tentative steps that crunch snow, sounding like thunder in her ears with the silence they only break with their breaths. She wishes he’d speak, if only to show her that he’s real and not some mirage from her lonely daydreams. As his name tumbles down her tongue, past her teeth, and swirls adoringly into the night air his boyish smile grows, and she feels as if she has accomplished a great and important feat. Velvet noses brushed kindly, sharing scents, and he is imprinted in her senses fully. In this moment she feels that maybe she isn’t so invisible, that maybe he wouldn’t mind her being at his side for company? Not her own, she would be there only for when he desired her, as she always did back in the endless sands of her home. Athena is used to being the unnoticed one, the bypassed copper coin as gold and silver are sought out in demand. Their shadows dance, pale little things that shiver and twist beneath the lights that play out overhead. They are not bound, and can flicker where they desire, but still they are limited, and cannot meet each other fully. Much like the bodies they are hooked to, there is no way they can be equals, friends.

Even so, she looks to him for guidance, this all-knowing wise son of snow. Trusting him to guide her, to protect her, even if a slowly building cynicism hisses that it is foolish to think that when she is shackled so fiercely to the land she stands upon. It is washed out by the warmth of her soul, the naivety she is reluctant to shed on her own. There is a silence that spins on, and the broken man she spies in his orbs makes her heart sink and eyes soften in sadness for him. Saying nothing, she instead listens. His voice is velvet, but his words are jagged and despaired. It is clearly an old wound, one she shames herself for prodding. Small golden fae hates herself more than she should be able for pushing, for forcing him to relive painful memories. But so long as he lends her his voice, she’ll lend him her ear. It is only fair, and would hopefully keep him from having to repeat himself once more.

The tale he had to tell was enough to keep her enraptured, emotions swirling in her features and glowing in her eyes with every turn of the story; awe over his status as King, sympathetic pain over Mirage and the betrayal the Moon had gifted his people with. Pale irises turn to her own mottled amber and her heart pounds painfully for him. What had he done to deserve such a cruel fate? It only continued to crumble as he softly continued, speaking of the faith and love he and his followers had held for her, and how she had thanked them with a knife in the back. It hurt, to hear such things, and it greatly confused her as well. How hard it was for her to imagine this cruel mistress was also the kindly mage who had granted her conference so long ago. Gaze flickered away when he speaks of her own situation, ashamed that she had followed the mistress of night so blindly. Had the celestial queen known that she would? Done it because of that? It made her eyes sting and swell with tears she wouldn’t let fall, knowing they would pass. What could she possibly say?

Nothing, for a while. Lips quivered but didn’t part as she searched all this new information for how she was feeling, trying to decide where she stood. Soft breath was eventually sucked in, and her eyes flickered up to find his once more, as if they were her anchor in a storm that had to be weathered for her own benefit. "It’s…hard for me to think of what to say…” she murmured weakly, feeling as if she’d been kicked cruelly awake. How blindly she’d worshiped the Goddess, how foolishly she’d followed her instructions into danger! "I think I always suspected…but she had been so kind to me, so willing to help me and gift me with healing, that I didn’t want to upset her. She was the only one who looked at me, who saw me…” Athena whispered, the glow in her irises dulling. "For so long I’ve been invisible…and to be noticed out of all others, and by a Goddess at that, I felt indebted to her. I think I still do. But I can’t ignore what you’ve said, Mauja,” she glanced up here, feeling weak and insignificant once more, as if she was unworthy of a shadow because she held no actual presence in the world. "I’ve never met another God. I don’t know if they’re all the same, and I don’t know if I want to. Without her though…” trailing off, Athena glanced up to stare at the pregnant moon that hung over them, as if spying on their conversation. "Without her, I’m invisible again. But I’d rather be invisible than follow someone capable of such cruelty.” Her conviction was hard to find, but it was there. A decision had been reached at last within her thoughts, and though the verdict was one she had mixed feelings on, it was not to be changed. Feeling as if already she’d been stripped of whatever the Goddess had seen in her at the Veins, Athena stared down at the flowers between her hooves, eyes sad and posture limp and defeated. Gathering the courage to look up one more time, locking eyes with Mauja to show him how sincere her words would be. "You never deserved that kind of fate, Mauja. I wish I could have helped, could have kept that from happening to you and your family. I’m so sorry that you were the product of her twisted little game.” Only now did the embers spark within her, but with unfamiliar anger she’d never experienced before. Anger on behalf of Mauja and his family, who had been innocent and loyal, loving, only to be chewed up and spit out, laughed at. It was easy to see now why Mauja disliked her, why she managed to claw her way into Athena’s insides without so much as a protest from the tiny doll. In a way she hated herself for the wool that kept her safe from the outside world, and yet put her in more danger than was good. Without Mauja, would she too have suffered such a fate?

---
WC: 1,471
Notes: That sucked really bad ;___; I'm so sorry

Athena</style>
  Have to stand up to be stronger</style>

Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#6
He wasn't sure why he had told her everything — why it had felt important to make her understand, why he found the Moon unworthy of her. Unworthy of anyone. She had abandoned Mesec, simply birthed him among the racist unicorns and left him to fend for himself. She had abandoned d'Artagnan with a hybrid child, and Mauja thought he could understand the Doctor's feelings, those two forces pulling in two direction: the deep loyalty they had all felt to her in the Edge, and the bitterness at her betrayal. After all, if they had not cared, they would not have been bitter, would they? Still, it had been easier for him to try and sever the bond, harder for his red friend, who had a physical link to her still.

As he spoke, he watched her. There were old aches lurking beneath the smooth cover of his voice, a sense of age-old tiredness clouding his pale eyes, something he felt in the shadow of each heartbeat, like a catch in his throat when he breathed in. He was tired — tired, of everything, as if something in the past had broken his resolve. He felt ancient, like some creature from another era, something old and derelict.. as if he'd lost his vigor, as if he was too old to carry out the path he'd laid before his feet. At the end of his explanation, when Athena was silent, he sighed, his tail stirring listlessly against his hocks. It wasn't the first time he felt like laying down and going to sleep in the snow, and he knew that it would pass, but with it always came the grumbled thought: why can't the world just lay down at my feet? For I am too tired to conquer it. Of course, it wouldn't happen, and he let his gaze go to the lights, trailing their dance.

The night was silent, yet it was as if he could almost hear her mind working away, digesting all the things he had said. Don't listen to bitter old men, make your own way in the world; but the words couldn't leave his lips, remained behind them, locked away below the ice. Was it childish, to turn upon his former deity, and want no one to follow her? For all to see her for the cruel mare she was? Perhaps — either it was that, or noble.

He could've laughed.

"It’s…hard for me to think of what to say…” For a moment longer, Mauja's blue eyes remained upon the sky, then he let them fall again, to the little golden mare he'd broken with his bitter tale. Was it cruel, or kind, to open her eyes in this manner? Some part of him felt no guilt — I only told her the truth — but another part felt ashamed of seeing the light so slowly leave her, not like the sun setting, but rather like it dying, and fading to nothing but dull, dusty metal under the moon's silver light. Bit by bit her faith broke; he could hear it in her words, in her voice, watched her wilt away like a flower. "I’ve never met another God. I don’t know if they’re all the same, and I don’t know if I want to. Without her though… Without her, I’m invisible again. But I’d rather be invisible than follow someone capable of such cruelty.” He remained silent. If he told her of the Sun, who had plagued Helovia with his fires for so long, or of Time, who had snatched Mauja away and then laughed at the broken man that came back, would she fall into such black despair from which she would never return? Would it crush her too-kind heart to know that at least three of the four deities who were supposed to watch over and rule were selfish, arrogant bastards? Would she want to stay, within the borders of Helovia, if she learned it?

Athena's eyes were raised again, and Mauja's gaze sharpened, focusing upon hers — she seemed broken, lifeless, duller. Had it truly been necessary put her through this?

Yes.

"I think I see you," he said, all of a sudden, wondering what kind of herd Kri ran upon the red sands, yet knowing how hard it was to tear yourself into nearly fifty pieces, one for each member. He felt thin, stretched and strained; he wanted to be there with, and for, everyone in the Basin, but he had only one body, and that simply wasn't enough. "Or at least, I'd like to think I do." Dark muzzle extended, snowy neck lengthening out beneath the moon's eye; gently he tried to brush it against her shoulder, to breathe a little warmth into her on the cold winter's night. "What did she want you to do here, anyway?"

[ no it didn't <3 and gods I feel rusty. x_x; ]
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here

Athena2 Posts: 48
Dragon's Throat Pupil
Mare :: Pegasus :: 15.1hh :: 4 Years 8 Months
Adoptable
#7




There is something ancient in his voice, nearly as old as the Lunar Goddess had sounded when she had softly spoken to the little golden figurine that stood lost both physically and emotionally before the great snowy king. Athena was but a child in comparison to the weathered stallion, and she was finally starting to see just how out of place she was in the rugged, unforgiving reaches of the Basin. Why was it after so many seasons she was only just now seeing it? How could she have been so blind? In her awe of the majestic woman that had shaped the very world she lived in, had she lost what little sensibilities she held about her person? Did every other mortal fall to the supposedly- or apparently- wicked ways of the celestial beings? Mauja seemed so worn down, and Athena almost childishly hated the Moon Goddess for hurting him as she did. Her allegiance normally did not shift so suddenly, but Mauja had been there with her what seemed like every step she'd taken in the snowy land. In her years of living in Helovia, nobody had so much as attempted to learn her name. Even in her beloved desert homeland, she was unknown and practically unseen. What was she worth, after all, when wings did not adorn her body, and she had no real use to her kin?

Another sigh escaped her pale golden lips, what seemed to be the thousandth since she had been trapped in this icy land. Why did it feel like every sigh seemed deeper? Seemed to tear at more of her soul with every new shaking exhalation of sorrow and loneliness? Was the significance of a single blow of breath truly so high? And why did it seem like her soul, her hope, was leaving upon the wisps of the air that had once been held so close within her bodice? Would it eventually wear her down into nothingness? If so, would she be left merely a shell, a hollow unused container in an arena of death that was built to preserve her remains so perfectly? It was depressing how little she had done, accomplished in and with her life. If she really were to pass away in these snowy flowers, encased in crystal and with the tears of her own solitude upon her gilded cheeks, would there be any whose hearts would crack in acknowledgement of how she had left them bereft? Would her name echo upon the lips of mournful friends, acquaintances? Would even the young woman who had been far more painfully enslaved alongside her remember her? Was she so easily forgettable, replaceable?

Athena didn't realize how her own breath hitched, how her eyes watered a little too harshly, until it was already too late. Mauja's softly spoken words plucked a string inside her chest, vibrating with the need for a friendly touch. Somebody, anybody, to realize that yes she was there! That she was alive, a part of this world, and that she left as much of a print as they did with every step. The warmth he spoke with was simply overwhelming when compared to the frozen waves that had washed all warmth and solidarity from her frame since her arrival. Was this what the Lunar Lady had desired? To show her the pain of loneliness, the sting of being forgotten? Tiny tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and she laughed mirthlessly as they slipped from her cheeks as if eager to leave her pathetic frame. They fell like diamonds shed from coal, her own tears worth more than the place they had originated from. Somewhere along the ivory petals they landed, their rainbow show beneath the northern lights ending in a silent, unheard bow. Athena couldn't help likening it to her death, some time in the future. A quiet, subdued curtsy to an empty theatre, upon an empty stage. No flowers to be placed in her arms, no quiet words of gratitude nor promises that she would be remembered. Her curtain call would have to be from her own lips, for nobody would be there to say goodbye or weep over her when it was time for her to meet her ancestors above.

A muzzle was offered to her shoulder, and she welcomed it wholeheartedly, almost desperately. Reaching up as high as her tiny frame could reach to press the length of her neck to Mauja's, should he not move away and discourage her advances. She couldn't stop her tiny, shaky laughter until his question melted like dark chocolate and honey into her audits. Sobering herself, sniffling quietly in the silence around them, she hoped to press her cheek to his strong shoulder, perhaps glean from him the bravery and fortitude that kept him moving. "All I wanted was the power to heal...so she bid me to heal far more than I could ever manage. The lust of a rapist, the loneliness of a hybrid, and the racism that lingers here. To stay in your borders until the end of the Bird's song, when summer took hold. But I could not...I was unable to do anything, merely try and make miss Faelene as happy as possible..." her voice tapered away into something akin to a hopeless whimper. Wishing to hide in his spotted pelt for the rest of eternity, wrapped in his warmth, forever safe. Protected. Acknowledged.

"You are the only person to see me, Mauja. I am nameless, faceless, meaningless. I failed the only God I've met. I failed to meet her standards as a healer. I failed to befriend anybody in the years I've lived, and even the one I helped so much left me without a single backwards glance...I failed to help her, failed further in trying to protect her...sometimes I wonder if I'm bound to fail you too, Mauja," she breathed, and her voice choked and cracked upon the last utterance as if she was terrified of it becoming true. Mauja was all she had left, it seemed, and she was scared to lose the only solid thing she had left to hold onto. If only he'd let her cling to his knees like the lost, useless child she was.

Athena</style>
  Have to stand up to be stronger</style>

image by seyyed_mostafa_zamani @ flickr.com
Ascended Helovian

Mauja the Frozen Light Posts: 1,392
Outcast atk: 6.5 | def: 10.5 | dam: 7.5
Stallion :: Unicorn :: 17.2 :: 14 HP: 79.5 | Buff: HUNTER
Irma :: Snowy Owl :: Terrorize & Diego :: Eurasian Eagle-Owl :: Rage Neo
#8
He almost felt like it merited some title, some recognition: Mauja, the breaker of spirits. It wasn't the first time, it wasn't going to be the last, but it was undeniable that he had a knack for ruining things. With a few simple, vague words he'd caused a new-made mother to distrust and doubt the father of her daughter, and now, with the bitter tale of an old man he'd moved a kind, gentle soul to tears – and not tears of the good kind, but the kind of tears that came when something, your hopes and dreams perhaps, were dashed. In silence he let them fall, watching from the corner of his eye as they tracked a star-reflecting path down her cheeks, to fall upon the flowers. Somehow, he felt like it was about more than simple faith. It went deeper. He hadn't robbed her only of her deity, but of the comfort—and pride?—she'd felt in the company of the Moon, was it no so? For a moment, he had threatened to reduce her to nothing again, a shadow and a whisper. He'd brought her to the brink, and then back again.

Mutely he stood with his muzzle against her shoulder, steadfast as she pressed against him. His mind argued that it was wrong, the principles of his life told him to move aside, take his words back, dump her in the dirt and rub it in, but tonight, tonight he simply wasn't strong enough to do it.

Her quivering breaths washed against his shoulder, and patiently he let her. It was with words he had broken her, so was it with words he would have to heal her again, and make her whole? As he waited, his blue gaze wandered freely over the snow-capped horizon, breath steaming into the darkness. They were under the Moon's watchful gaze, but surely she'd turned away in distaste already, unwilling to witness such blasphemy towards her glory. Deadly, beautiful, and vain; would she one day regret the way she'd cast him, and the unicorns, aside? Would she one day see what could've been, if she'd kept him under her sway? He knew that he could go further still, that he could be so much more than the outcast lord and dethroned King, and when she realized what she had passed up on, would she try and make good on it?

He doubted her pride would let her.
He was cautious to think a single mortal, in an eternal time stream, would matter so much. After all, the sun would set and rise, long after he had died, and what, then, would he but a half-forgotten name, a legacy slowly washing away with each rain?

No. He doubted a creature eternal would ever care that much about the deeds of a mortal, a day-fly, a creature of such a brief and insignificant lifespan. He'd swum in the streams of time, and witnessed the days past and the days of what could've been. He understood the age of the Dragon's Blood, and how much the world had since changed. Just as no one today remembered the forest that had once grown in the Throat, no one would remember Mauja once all that time had passed again.

Athena's shaking voice was spilling into the night air again, and he was glad to be torn from his reverie; contemplating how the world would forget him was not all that pleasant. The silence lay warm across his throat, even as a myriad of words burst into life in his mind: anger, that the Moon had so carelessly declared them racist, and the desire to snarl that it was an unfair assumption, but it only showed how little the astral mare truly cared. Wonder, at the fact that gentle Athena had gone her whole life without a true friend. Shock, at her fear of failing him – didn't she know what a monster he was, what kind of beast lay asleep in the ice of his soul? But perhaps even monsters seem kind, when they smile and touch you with a gentle paw, soothing your ruffled feathers.

Perhaps even monsters had hearts.

"She failed you," he began, choosing to ignore her fears, her strange devotion to him. "A rapist can only be 'healed' by a sharp object driven through his neck. Loneliness can only be cured by companionship, and even those of a single species' bloodline can be lonely. Racism is a choice in life, a decision, and not an illness." His voice was gentle, touching on contempt sometimes; what kind of tasks were those? Was a hybrid's loneliness worth more than the loneliness of an equine? And was even the Gods advocating peace? "There was never anything there for you to heal. I'm sorry." Slowly he rubbed his muzzle against her shoulder, before sighing. "Sometimes being alive is a very thankless thing, Ari."
angels, they fell first, but I'm still here


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