the Rift


[OPEN] The Written Word [Sohalia]

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#1

In the mountains north
At the edge of the wood
At the foot of the shore
There lies a crystal cave

In the crystal cave
At the bottom of a pool
At the end of a tunnel
There lies a glowing orb

In the heart of the orb
At the center of magic
At the crux of time
There lies a hidden message

In the hidden message
At the end of the sentence
At the end of the page
There lies Sohalia's name.

[[This thread is intended for Sohalia. Sohalia must post first, after which point she may decide whether or not the thread is to remain open or closed. Regardless of her decision, post order will be stilted in favor to Sohalia and RE, and posters may be skipped after 48 hours so that this thread does not get held up. The cave of which the poem speaks is located just north of the Windtossed Foothills, at the top of the mountains overlooking the sea.]]


Sohalia the Transcended Posts: 477
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Astraeus :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya ChaoticMelodies
#2
Sohalia

I am hot.

I don't mean that in the metaphorical sense which some use to describe beauty and sexuality; I mean it in the most literal, physical sense possible. The lazy breeze of Orangemoon is cool against my snowy pelt, but it does not give me chills nor counteract the inner heat of my bodice. No, the Dragon's Throat magic that has taken root deep within me prevents that. I burn from the inside out with the constant presence of the magic. It might sound unpleasant, and perhaps it would be to some, but I find it soothing. It is reassuring to know that although I might be faced with horrendously frigid temperatures in my lifetime, I will have the comfort and solace of heat buried deep within my breast. Although my magic, to my knowledge, does not prevent my death in the face of such conditions, it does provide me with a general sense of wellbeing and the willpower to drive on, even through the worst of times.

Speaking of which, it would seem that the worst of times had come to me in recent months. It was not so long ago that I had birthed twins - one stillborn, one perfectly healthy - and for a long time I struggled to cope with that loss. Although I love my Skysong with all my heart and hope to protect her from life's ugliness, I still cannot quite forgive myself for the death of my firstborn. Their father was there, and then he wasn't - gods know I haven't seen him in some time - and that after I had been under the impression that he would remain by my side forever. For always. A family, he and our children. Child. But now he's gone, and I don't know where, or why, all I know is that he is there and I am here, with Skysong, and I have wronged him, but I have been wronged by his absence.

Oh, it is all so messed up.

My wanders on this day have taken me far from the reaches of the Throat. I have thrown my energy into building the wall, and in a way I feel as though it is more my child than my own daughter. I am on hand, day in and day out, to shape the wall, to mold it into the form that I see fit. But Skysong, well, she spends more and more time with Rowan, and I worry that she will have more of an influence in my daughter's life than I. This in and of itself would not be a bad thing, as I admire Rowan's intelligence and devotion, but I am met with a sinking feeling of guilt each time I see them wandering off together. The wall comforts me, provides me with something to throw myself heart and soul into. It allows me to forget for a while.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to forget it all. But it doesn't seem that I am going to be able to do that. Gaucho's presence in the herd and, perhaps, in my womb (though it is too early to tell, really) forbids me to forget my sins, and so I bury myself in my work, hoping. Praying. But these days I have to wonder if the gods really hear my prayers. No, they must - musn't they? After all, the Sun God blessed me with his favor when he sent me on a quest for my ghost-speaking; the Earth God seemed very kind when I saw him not so long ago. Perhaps he did not choose to bequeath his favor upon me, but I felt that he was a caring god nonetheless, much more so than his fiery brother.

The gods are so undeniably here, and yet I still feel as though they do not hear me at all.

My wings carry me high above the mountains, but something seems to call to me from far below. I assume that it is the beauty of this terrain, seemingly untouched. I cannot see another soul, and for the first time in many moons I am blissfully alone. It seems as good a place as any to land, to ponder my thoughts, and so I begin a steady, downward spiral. I choose a clearing in which to land, a calming place with a beautiful ocean view. To my back is rock; to each side lies forest. Perhaps I should stop here, take a moment to stop and smell the metaphorical roses, but still I feel the gentle tug of something calling me. I tear my eyes from the scenic blue-green before me and survey the mountain's face.

A cave lies before me, and I step hesitantly near. My auds prick forward in blatant curiousity and I am soon moving at an easy pace. I step into the cavern without a second thought, and although my hooves continue to carry me forward, my eyes are overwhelmed by the beauty around me. The entire cave seems to be encased in crystal; the light from the mouth bounces around in fragments, sending multi-colored beams of light in dapples across my snowy pelt. This is the kind of place in which I could spend hours, if I am not careful, and so I am grateful that my legs, at least, seem to know where they are going. It is not long before I come to the end of the tunnel. A small pool lies before me, and it, too, is the recipient of the many little scraps of light bouncing through the cave. But what I soon realize is that the light is no longer coming only from the mouth of the cave, so far behind me; it is coming from the pool.

The call is stronger, and I peer over the edge. At the bottom of the pool there is a small, glowing orb. It is so beautiful, and so surreal, and I am at a loss, simply lost in this twisted moment of time, unable to tear myself away from this - this - thing. I am possessed by the incurable notion that this little ball of starlight is mine, meant for me by some greater power. As though they knew that I questioned them. As though they are reassuring me that no, they have not forsaken me; that no, they will not give me more than I can handle; that yes, there is another purpose for my pain. In this instant, all of my doubts are eradicated, all of my faith is restored, and for the first time in a season or two I truly feel like myself.

"Talk talk talk."
Sohalia
Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried...
Please tag Sohalia in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to place an order?  Visit Crystalline Creations here!
Want to plot with Sohalia?  Visit her plot page here!

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#3

The orb comes from the ocean
the orb rests at my feet
the orb that's from the sea
is coming back to me

Me is a mare in white
me is a mother pure
me who stands in the cave
is ready to to be brave

The brave are those who suffer
the brave are those who fall
the brave who stands alone
is bound to hear the tone

The tone sounds loud and ringing
the tone sounds off the walls
the tone, a deepened knell
is soon to cast its spell

[[Would you like this thread to remain open?]]


Sohalia the Transcended Posts: 477
Outcast atk: 4 | def: 9.5 | dam: 6.5
Mare :: Pegasus :: 14.3 hh :: 10 (ages in Orangemoon) HP: 67 | Buff: NOVICE
Astraeus :: Common Zephyr :: Wakiya ChaoticMelodies
#4
Sohalia

[OOC | Yes, it can remain open. ^^]

The orb rests at my feet. It seems to glow faintly, and something of it reminds me of the sea. It glows in pulses, waves of blues of all shades. It is familiar, though I am certain I have never seen such magic before. Of that much I am sure - this orb is undoubtedly magical. It is a calming magic, unlike the fire that burns brightly within me with my appointment to Forger of the Dragon's Throat, though both magics seem to strive for positivity, for creation, for something more than the life I have been given to lead. Both seem to call for self-confidence, for determination, for strength, though I know that each does so in its own way. I wonder if I will be allowed to keep the orb. It is beautiful, and I am sure that it would be a wondrous thing to bottle up and wear on a chain around my neck. Of course, to do that, I would need a bottle, and that I do not have.

Gazing into the gentle, rocking depths of the orb, I remember the day that I brought Skysong to the beach of the Throat. It is not the most beautiful of beaches, perhaps, but it is ours, and it is safe. She enjoyed herself thoroughly, though I had been a bit lacking in terms of attention. I had watched her cavort about with Sabel while I demanded more of Note. I didn't even know what I wanted, really, but I wanted more - oh, there's that word again. How often it seems to come up in life. More, more, more, all the time, we are never satisfied to simply have what we have. No. We always want more.

Not that it did me any good. Where is Note now, I wonder?

And so I face parenthood alone. It is hard enough with one child; I refuse to consider the possibility of a second. If I had borne both twins successfully, would Note have stayed? Would I have allowed my walls to fall, allowed Gaucho to take my breath away so suddenly? And if I am to birth another child - will it be healthy? Is it my fault that Diniel died? A shudder runs through me, a broken, white, winged mare, a loving but nonetheless horrible parent. Even with Skysong I have been absent more often than not, leaving her with Rowan most of the time. When I am there, I feel that young Skysong tests her boundaries far more than I would like. The reproachful gaze when I deny her freedom hurts me, but I cannot bear to let her wander out into the cold, hard world. I cannot bear to see her hurt.

A loud noise emerges from the orb, bouncing off the walls around me, again drawing my attention to their beauty. It rings on and on, and I fear that perhaps I have managed to disturb the peace of the sleeping magic. A small part of me bids me to hasten from the crystalline caverns, but I cannot move from my place by the orb. My eyes have again been drawn to it, held by it, and I know that I could not lift a hoof even if I wanted to. Whatever magic has lain dormant here has been woken, and I am under its spell until it releases me.

I am not afraid.

"Talk talk talk."
Sohalia
Don't wanna leave this life knowing I barely tried...
Please tag Sohalia in all replies.
Use of force and/or magic (with the exception of death) is allowed at all times.

Want to place an order?  Visit Crystalline Creations here!
Want to plot with Sohalia?  Visit her plot page here!

Random Event Posts: 1,286
Helovian Ancient
Stallion :: Equine :: ::
#5
For a moment
the panic may set in
and the reality of this
will sink
down
within

For a moment
the pain may bring you down
and the truth of it
will tear
you
apart

For a moment
the troubles may fade
and the echoing tone
will bring
you
peace

For a moment
the orb may shatter
and the pieces left
will cut
your
skin

For a moment
the skin may bleed
and the trails of red
will stain
your
soul

For a moment
the blood may pause
and the crystal of time
will trap
your
hurt

For a moment
the magic may spread
and the power
will be
your
own

For a moment-
silence

For a moment-
finality

For a moment.

[[Congratulations! Sohalia now has the following magic: EarthxTime | Able to coat objects and living beings in a layer of crystal, preserving the object within as it was when it became encased. Please update this in the character records.]]



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