"Where brilliance is good and madness is better..."
Helovia Info
Helovia opened in February 2012! We are an active fantasy equine RPG
Where once the world narrowed into naught but gray dust and desolation, the gods called for life. Wielding the elements of fire and light, dark and wind, earth and water, spark and time, they have created Helovia. The realm is set within the mythical globe of Loorien, a planet rich with all variety of creatures and blessed with all manner of magic. Originally populated by nomadic, tribal characters, they've since grown into massive empires saturated with culture and history. Separated into four distinct segments of Helovia, called "The Regions," each band of horse strong enough and capable enough, took up the power and responsibility of leadership. Unicorns, old, wise and mysterious, took to the north, hidden in forests of mists and shadows and rarely making themselves known beyond their cliffs of the World's Edge. Equines, vast, organized and militaristic, split into two, one group went north to the Windtossed Foothills and the other group went south to the Dragon's Throat. Pegasus remained nomadic, making their homes in various parts of The Wilds in a migratory manner. For many generations, the land was peaceful and calm, but peace was never the way of the gods. With a clash of argument, war and bloodshed massacred Helovia, and in the aftermath, the realm was eerily quiet. Now, as newcomers sweep into this land, they are met with the lingering bitterness of the gods and the struggle to reclaim what was lost. Nothing remains safe or certain while sorcerers and soldiers alike brood and bide their time for revenge, honor and glory.
Site Wide Plots
Kaos :: The Beginning of the End ☼ - 6/2017 - Kaos placed Helovia in a time-bubble for a short period of time, but the Helovian gods are fighting back. But Kaos is powerful- far more powerful than anyone thought. This may be the beginning of the end of Helovia as we know it.
Kisamoa :: A New Kind of Kaos ☼ - 3/2017 - Kisamoa asks Helovians to help him restore the Spectral Marsh. Which side will you choose?
Invasions :: All Out War ☼ - 5/2/16 - New layout and the brand new invasion rules are up! Thank you for your patience and we look forward to getting started with this new adventure.
The Rift :: Gods Do Die ☼ - 8/2015 - Helovia Gods are saving the Rift from corrupt gods! Can Helovians band together against these foreign deities?
The Literal Ship ☼ - 2/8/15 - Oh no! You have to pair up for Valentine's day!
Sky Island :: Murder ☼ - 10/25/14 - Vesta has been found dead on the island, and the gods have called to you to solve the murder!
Sky Island :: Peace ☼ - 7/7/14 - An island has appeared in the sky! Clouds carry Helovians from the Veins to the sky.
Restoration :: We Welcome the Dawn ☼ - 9/21/13 - The sun has finally risen on this day, giving the land new light, but the Time God and the Sun God have yet to be seen.
Endless Night :: Broken Magic Plot ☼ - 8/30/13 - The earth god has returned and is walking across Helovia to heal the land. Every area can now be considered lush and prosperous, but the sun has still not risen.
☼ - 7/19/13 - The moon has risen in the sky, heralding the return of the Goddess of the moon. Lamp trees which light the paths have grown brighter, moon flowers which grow in dark places have begun to grow and prosper and the world is brighter, filled with a new hope.
Endless Night :: Dead Magic Plot ☼ - 6/22/13 - The gods of Helovia, in order to protect the world, have disappeared into the rift, leaving the world sunless, moonless and magic-less in their absence. Only the herdlands have a source of light, but lamp-trees with glowing leaves and branches sporadically line the popular roads and paths from place to place.
Doppleganger Plot ☼ - 6/20/13 - The God of Time is still struggling to close the rift though which the dopplegangers have come. He has requested that his brothers and sister assist in closing this hole, but without knowing why it opened, the task is proving difficult. Magic still remains faulty and hard to control, but the herdlands continue to be places of refuge for those who are fortunate enough to call these lands home.
ORANGEMOON cools off the lands with a a viscious force. Colder than normal, a sign of things to come during Frostfall, Helovia is bathed in a rich tropical lushness - albiet a cold one. The coastlines of the Dragon's Throat are pelted constantly by tidal waves, and the desert climate is humid but chilly. Ice begins to form early in the Aurora Basin leaving the winding trails slick and dangerous. The mists of the World's Edge coat everything in a glistening crystalline shine which encourages mould to grow everywhere. The Spectral Marsh is the only area which remains fertile, blissfully temperature and lush.
Cotm
Character of the Month for
June, 2017
WEAVER, Corporal of the Aurora Basin, is a relatively recent addition to Helovia and has taken it by storm. Branded with the seal of Death on her chest, intrigue and interest follow both her past and present. Though she is assuredly beautiful, her sometimes sharp personality reveals that there is more to this uni-peg hybrid than meets the eye. Proving herself able on the battlefield in the Basin’s warrior ranks, we can’t wait to see her test her mettle against the looming Kaos happenings! Congratulations!
Helovia RPG was created by Tamme and Blu and coded by Tamme also known as Schwartze. All coding, palettes and imagery are copyrighted to the website and are not for use outside of Helovia. Thank you to our ServerMaster for hosting Helovia. A special thanks goes to Neo for all of her coding help and fixing Tamme's errors, Boom, for her loyal service and creation of the Time God, and to Ali for her consistent contributions and dedication.
09-15-2013, 02:55 PM (This post was last modified: 09-15-2013, 03:00 PM by Ophelia.)
OPHELIA & TINEK</style> Heavens ablaze in our eyes, we're standing still in time
the blood on our hands is the wine, we offer a sacrifice</style>
Another night without a day, but her heart did not mourn. She opened her eyes to what she assumed would be dawn by the clock in her head. Were she anyone else with any other mind, she would have thought that her internal system would have a slight variance in every second, causing her now to be off by hours. However, her mind was essentially flawless, if you considered remembering every horrific detail flawless... The Sun God seemed to think that she was unique, but that was a long time ago... Such a long time ago.
Ophelia let out a sigh of white, and she rose swiftly from where she rested against the side of a mountain. Carefully, she shook the snow from her figure and twitched her gray lips hungrily, whiskers dancing about with little snowflakes stuck on the stiff strands. Tinek, it seemed, had already been busily hunting from the blood stains that trailed across the snow like death. Ophelia ignored them, carefully stepping her cloven hooves over the stains and ignoring the fact that the crimson of her hair matched the blood so perfectly. Her figure was a perfect representation of the life she lived. A flawless white tainted by blood. She was the daughter of a warrior, a ruthless killer who had tried to change his ways, the sister of a mercenary, but inside, she was still quite a small little child who had been forced to grow up far too quickly.
The silver dragon was growing large now, and his speech within her mind was close to perfect. He tore into an arctic rabbit, talons shearing the hide to get to the meat inside. Ophelia did not begrudge him his diet, but she always politely declined his offer to share a meal. Something about eating raw meat was... off putting.
Instead, she wandered and chose to nibble on the grasses here and there, and her meanderings had pushed her south from the feet of the mountains into the rolling tundra. Ophelia lifted her head and sighed a little, staring south at the rest of the world and wondering what was going on in her absence. Her self-exile was doing her good, however, far away from the family drama and the wars she knew nothing about. The fact that her sister had sided with the Basin and pressed into the World's Edge eluded her completely.
"What do you think, Tinek?" She asked him curiously aloud, her voice like chimes. His large, heavy figure landed on her hip now, and she turned to glance as he cleaned his talons like a cat. The dragon's bloody red eyes turned to look into her own with such age and wisdom.
"I think you have been away for long time," he replied through their mental bond. "Friends did you leave behind? Owe it to them to assure them that you are still alive." The dragon nodded. "Comadre too."
Ophelia smiled. She was glad that Tinek had such a special bond with his charcoal friend, the black dragon Comadre. Perhaps she would have to find Osiris so that their bonded could play around, at least a little. "Well, we can start moving to the south," she agreed. "The journey will be long, so we can press onward today." The pale princess began her trek south, the only feature giving her away against the snow was the crimson of her hair and the silver dragon flying languidly a her side.
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.
The months to get to this new home were long, arduous, and lonely. He had been utterly isolated during his travels. The stallion had kept to the forests, to the safety of mountain ranges, anything that would hide him from an aerial view. Fear, pain, anger and loss had driven him onward, knowing that if he were to succumb to hunger or thirst, or simply lay down apathetically and give up, he would be shaming the memory of his people.
His people.
They no longer existed. The thought ached so deeply in his chest it forced the obsidian demon to halt. His head drooped and he closed his eyes, breathing. In, and out. In, and out. In, and out. Sometimes that's all he could do, all he could focus on: breathing. The whirlwind of acquaintances and actions and arguments since his advent to the Basin and beyond had kept his mind occupied, but not now.
Now, in the lull, in the quiet moments, it all came back. He had no family. He had no friends. He had no companions, no confidants, no lovers, no one. Would it really be so bad to give up? Would his father truly expect him to carry on like this? Would his mother understand? Opening his eyes again and lifting his gaze to the eternal night, Torleik felt the pain amplify itself in a nearly pleasurable way.
The velvety black was lit up by a multicolored ribbon of lights in gorgeous blues, greens, pinks, purples - every color imaginable. Sinking to the ground, the weary stallion let his ever-present awe of the beautiful dancing colors in the sky soothe his mind. Such sights had been visible from his home; he had watched the same colors flicker and slide and wave above his head since he was a babe. This - this sky, these lights, they would always be a part of home. The thought was a cold but welcome comfort.
For a moment, even holding his head up was too much effort to expend and he lowered his muzzle to the snow, resting it there. It was frigid. He liked that. The snow was comforting around him, the fresh smell of it, the way his breath exited his nostrils in swirling clouds. This was peaceful. The peace did not last long, however, as his hearing clearly discerned the sound of flapping wings against the otherwise dead audio of the night.
A white-hot panic erupted like lava in his chest and Torleik ripped himself up from the ground without an ounce of grace to his movements, nostrils flared, ears pinned flat as they could be back against his skull. Where was the noise coming from?
Who was it coming from?
Were they here too?
Had they followed him?
"Who's there?!" he snarled, his voice echoing across the perfectly round, unblemished hills of snow, deep, menacing, anger edged with just a hint of its owner being slightly unhinged. "Show yourself!" the stallion demanded, his heart pounding.
The wings were still flapping. So loud. Reverberating in his head. He could feel the heat on his skin despite the arctic conditions. He could smell the burning flesh, the conflagration taking everything.
A flash of metallic silver caught his eye and snapped him out of his horrid flashback and Torleik whirled, catching sight of a dragon. In his haze of fear and anger, his tunnel vision failed to notice the nearly flawlessly white mare nearby. His mind zeroed in on the flying animal and his dread turned to cold, solid lump in his gut.
A dragon.
A fucking dragon.
Self-preservation kicked in and Torleik cast his gaze wildly around, trying to find anywhere, anywhere to hide. The land was flat and unwelcoming of his survival. With nothing to do, nowhere to go, the warrior swallowed hard and accepted his fate. Against his will, his feet began to back him up slowly, trying to stave off the impending approach of this harbinger of everything he had escaped from.
If he was going to die, he was going to go down with a fight. Gathering all of his willpower, Torleik planted himself firmly in the snow. "If this is it, then come on. I'm right here," he muttered under his breath.
Ophelia saw something charcoal against the snow and watched as it spun, spraying snow like the waves of the ocean. The mare furrowed her brows, able to see now that the charcoal beat was a horse with two, strange horns, and by scent, most likely male. Curiosity drove her closer, and she turned in the stallion's direction, cresting a dune of white as Tinek happily and lazily flew around her, inching slightly ahead of his bond mate. Though she more often than not was hurt by those she allowed to be close, the masochistic desire for companionship and the burning need of curiosity brought her into situations like this almost too regularly.
The deep, male voice hit her ears, and she had no intentions of running away. Instead, she came closer and stood at a safe distance, eyeing him curiously and with furrowed brows over her strange, blue and red colored eyes. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak, the stallion seemed to have caught Tinek's figure on the approach. She watched as he backed away, speaking something she could not hear. Tinek paused in mid-air and turned back to Ophelia, confused.
"Why is he doing that?" The silver dragon asked in her mind.
Ophelia watched patiently, but she chose to answer in her own mind instead. "I think he may be afraid of you," she returned. "Not all have had good experiences with dragons." Her father certainly had not, especially not from the burn scars he sported. Though she was not close to the stallion who gave her life, she admired his willingness to do anything for what he believed to be right - even if that was ignoring the fact that she had been taken as a small child and held against her will. Those memories were rather bitter and still as clear as if they happened yesterday, and she blinked once, trying to rid herself of the smell of ocean and visions of the wicked mare who kidnapped her so long ago...
Tinek turned around and flew back to where Ophelia was standing and landed in the snow. Only the top of his silver head and his red-tipped horns seemed to be visible from the bank he had landed in, and he sneezed once to rid his cavities of the snow. The white mare cast an annoyed but patient glance down at the dragon before moving closer to the stranger. Upon his horns were markings she did not recognize, but she very much desired to know what they meant. The beard on his chin was braided and partly silver, but from the strong musculature and good bones, he could not have been too old.
"My name is Ophelia," she said with a kind smile. "I am sorry if we startled you. Tinek and I were simply venturing from the mountains back into the main land." The white mare ticked her head back at the dragon to indicate that he was named Tinek. Like a cat, the dragon inched closer, one taloned foot at a time. "I do not recognize you," she hummed. Nothing about his personage even indicated relations to anyone she knew. By all accounts he was uniquely strange. "Who are you?"
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.
Torleik's glacial blue eyes were locked firmly to the dragon's form as the silver beast turned and glided back from whence it had come. Surely he had not scared the thing away. He was making no large display, bursting forth with no war cry, fitted with no war paint. It was then that his gaze caught the nearly pure white mare against the pristine backdrop of the snow; only her red tipped mane and tail gave her away.
The dragon was visible with her and Torleik was immediately suspicious. What sorts of his kind fraternized with dragons? Studying this mare like a hawk, the black stallion found she was pleasing to the eye. Her coat was flawlessly white and her form slender. She moved with a dance-like sort of grace, seemingly sliding to and fro without intruding on the peace of the previously unoccupied space. Her heterochromatic eyes caught his attention, intrigued by the single blue orb highly contrasted with one red. No other horses here had red eyes that he knew of, save that dark one with a white and red mane he had met before - the old warrior. That they also shared a similar mane made Torleik wonder if perhaps they were related in some way.
However, his thoughts turned elsewhere, as the purity of this mare's coloring turned his musings to the moon high in the sky. Something stirred in his chest at this connection, the woman and the moon being similar. It enhanced her beauty tenfold and elevated her to a new position in his mind, regardless of his logical judgement of her. The moon and the tides had been his livelihood, his singularly important deity placed above the other gods and goddesses. That this mare was similar...
His observation and thoughts had calmed his wildly thundering heart and Torleik felt in control of himself again, of his unbridled fear that had been summoned by the sound of the dragon's wings. The beautiful woman had approached enough to speak, and her voice reached his ears like soft music. Everything about her seemed designed to calm and bring peace. The veteran warrior enjoyed that, for what it was worth. His logic had not wholly escaped him, and he reserved a back part of his mind for remaining constantly suspicious. There had been a tale amongst his people of a moon mare who would ensnare foolish stallions to their death. Superstitious enough, Torleik considered that this could very well be that moon mare.
His eyes flicked to the dragon, Tinek, and back to this Ophelia. Her name carried a certain sort of sad beauty, he knew not why. "I am Torleik," he replied, his voice infinitely deeper and more powerful than hers. The contrast was almost jarring. He turned a glance to the mountains and wondered how it would be to live there. It was not close enough to the water to be comfortable for him; he had not yet found a suitable place to settle and it was beginning to irk him.
"This...Tinek..." he grunted, looking at the dragon again. "Why does he fly with you?" Torleik knew better than to openly accuse anyone of dark magic or hellish deals made with the dark ones for dangerous companions or powers. Though in the case of the stallion he had first met here, Deimos, an accusation would merely be a statement of fact. This Ophelia did not carry the shadowy air of such dark magic, so another explanation was likely. And Torleik wanted to know.
Once in closer proximity, her soft eyes studied him more closely, remembering every detail to perfection, down the the last strand of white hair. Having an eidetic memory was the only life she knew but a difficult one. Without searching, she could become lost in the past as if it were reality, and differentiating the two would be almost impossible now, if not for Tinek.
The silver dragon kept her firmly rooted in reality. He only knew the now, so he guided her through the world and helped push aside the past that was so... temptingly real in her mind. A single look and she would remember the bend of the grass, the pitch of the wind, the swell in her heart, and the smell of the earth. Naturally, such gifts (or curses) did not come without their price. Her instincts - those that would keep her safe, tell her to run, force her to be slave to the frantic beat of her heart - were gone. Even in the face of death, she had naught but wonder and a hint of fear of the unknown in the after life - no urge to run or scream.
And so, as she stood in front of this stranger, she held no signs of fear or discomfort. Only a certain sad softness to her eyes, holding age well beyond her years. The inability to forget forces years on the young mind, but even with her tragedy, she can still spare a smile - one that reaches her eyes in a genuine way.
He is very handsome, she's decided. The stallion holds himself in a way that is subtly powerful without being an arrogant arse. Absently she wonders how the gods decided to fit him with such a strange, white marking through his eye and down his face - was it prophecy? Did it mean something? Or, like most mortals, was he simply blessed with unique features by random combination of parentage? Curiosity would never leave her for long.
"Torleik," she repeated with a smile. Then, she glanced down at Tinek who peered up from over the tower of snow. "Did you hear that?" she asked, blinking at her friend to rid her lashes of flakes of snow. "Our friend's name is Torleik. Similar to your name in sound, hm?" Tinek nodded his head up and down like he had seen her do before and then glanced at the stranger, inching forward like a hesitant child. Paw after paw, with an arched back of spines, wings tightly folded to his sides, the dragon approached.
His question brought a pleasant smile to her lips. "We are bonded in mind and soul," she replied. "I need him and he needs me - together, we survive." The tone of her voice softened as she recalled the bond she shared, a bond she helped to strengthen not too long ago by making her mind a pleasant place to stay. Hellena's advice was sound. "My sister and I found his egg, and she won him for me from some strange creatures, nearly a year ago," she murmured, recalling the event in vivid detail. A frown crossed her lips. How had she and her sister gone from being so close to what they were now?
"Why marks on horns?" Tinek asked, looking between Ophelia and the stranger, Torleik.
Ophelia smiled. "Tinek wants to know why you have markings on your horns," she relayed. "I find myself curious to know the answer to that question as well." A pleasant sparkle filled her eyes.
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.
10-09-2013, 12:45 AM (This post was last modified: 10-10-2013, 05:03 PM by Torleik.)
TORLEIK
Death follows into your watery grave
Torleik was unsure of how to properly regard this mare. She stood before him wholly unmoved by his presence, and this was something the dual-horned unicorn was not used to. In his experience, most mares regarded strange stallions they encountered while traveling alone with at least some measure of suspicion and wariness – for males could be violent brutes. This Ophelia smelled not the slightest bit afraid or concerned. Perhaps that was because of her dragon companion? The rabicano still did not like the flying thing’s presence and his focus, he found, drifted to the silvery beast often.
He watched her speak to the dragon in the snow as one would speak to a small but precocious child. Interesting. Tinek began to inch towards him and Torleik felt his nostrils flare ever so slightly, ears going back towards his skull. This dragon did not seem intent to hurt him, but if that changed, Tinek could take to the sky and burn him with ease, just as the Pegasi had taken to the sky and burnt away his home, family, and friends. However, he could not deny his natural curiosity and general affinity to any sort of small creature, and he watched how the scaled silver beast moved with keen eyes – eyes that flicked back up to Ophelia when she told him she was mentally bonded to Tinek. Mentally and bonded in soul.
“Do…all here, in this land, bond to other creatures if they raise them from birth?” he inquired, the concept curious to him. Such companions had not been a part of his homeland, though his people had been quite friendly with the other creatures around. Small creatures, at least. The pristinely white mare asked him why he had such markings on his horns. He glanced up upon their mention and shifted somewhat, trying to relax now that Tinek had drawn much closer. The sparkle in Ophelia’s eyes was…it elicited a strange feeling in him. This was a kind mare, he decided. A good, kind female. Sad, somehow, and that made him sad – he wished to ease her sadness, usher it away to a place more suitable for such an emotion rather than within this mare.
“I was born on a full moon, and my parents claimed that when the moonlight touched my horns, these runes came forth with a white glow. They have remained ever since, a mark I take to be from the Moon Goddess, whom I have faithfully served all my days,” Torleik explained. This was an exaggeration of course, as no Unicorn was born with horns. Such claims were common among his people, however, being oral storytellers as they were and believers in the powers of the gods and goddesses. The true story was a personal one that he did not share. Taking a highly cautious step forward, the blue-eyed demon dipped his head to get down on Tinek’s current level, gazing at the silver dragon curiously. “What is it like, being off the ground and in the sky?” he asked quietly.
10-17-2013, 02:43 PM (This post was last modified: 10-17-2013, 02:45 PM by Ophelia.)
Ophelia watched the wary stallion when Tinek began his approach once more. She had to admit that the dragon was much like herself in more ways than one. Both of them suffered from an insatiable curiosity and neither gave up easily when burned. She wondered if her mind had imprinted on his own in that way or if he would have grown independently to be such a curious creature? With those thoughts brought a certain guilt that she knew was unfounded. Ophelia had been given the egg by her sister, and she had cared for Tinek very carefully. However, their mental bond had disrupted his independence, and she found herself contemplating what could have been.
A useless dream. Tinek did not seem unhappy being bonded to her, and she was more than grateful for his thoughts which kept her firmly grounded in this reality and not the past. Torleik's question brought her out of her thoughts, and she shook her head, tossing her long, crimson and white threads around her neck and face. "No, not all. Certain species pick their kinds," she explained. "The only reason Tinek and I were able to bond is because my mother is an equine. Griffins tend to choose the unicorns. I know a pegasus who is bonded to a phoenix," she mused aloud. "Some of the eggs hatch and never bond - they simply fly away."
When Tinek and herself inquired about his horns, she waited for his story, watching her silver dragon stop a few feet away from Torleik, looking between Ophelia and the stranger. He was interested in this story as well, and he would listen through Ophelia's mind. She had an interesting way of translating the barely understandable gibberish into something that sounded like a full sentence.
When he explained the origins of his horn markings, Tinek's eyes widened and he looked up at the markings with reverence. Ophelia took the story and analyzed it, also looking at his horns. Did the moon goddess have other places of worship? Why not? Would she bless his horns so openly? She considered Mesec, the Goddess' son, and smiled. To create such a beautiful and clever boy meant that this divine female had to be magnanimous, and Ophelia decided that she believed Torleik. "Thank you for telling us," she replied.
When the stallion moved to ask Tinek a question, the silver dragon looked up and blinked a few times before looking over at Ophelia. "He asked what it is like to fly," she explained in her head, waiting his answer. She received it and smiled. Often times when he flew, she would enter his mind and experience what he did, but the height and weightlessness was so unsettling that she could not last long without feeling as if she would fall over. "Tinek says that flying is normal, but walking is slow and cumbersome. He says flying is freedom." Ophelia twitched her whiskers and blinked a few snowflakes from her lashes.
"I find it to be quite the opposite. The sensation of flying through his mind is nauseating and too quick. I much prefer the feeling of my hooves firmly on the ground." The pale princess clarified this firmly to which Tinek snorted in disbelief before shaking his horned head and shrugging his silver wings.
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.
Still he wondered at this beautiful mare and her silver dragon companion. Why were they out here? Alone? What is it that pushed them here? Forced exile? Self-exile? A loss? So many questions that he felt he could not ask. They were too personal, too much like it would be if Ophelia began asking him why he was here at all. The pain of unearthing those memories would be too much for him, and he did not want to wish that on someone else.
He listened raptly to her speech, her voice calming and soothing. Species pick their kinds...a griffin for unicorns? A winged beast of duality?...Ironic. "I see," he murmured, wondering about these rules of nature and magic that he did not understand. "Dragons for equines, griffins for unicorns and...mythical birds for pegasi," he grunted to himself, his disdain for the last word obvious. "The Basin is unicorns, yes? We do not see many pegasi here?" Torleik wanted his home nowhere near the winged bastards if it could at all be helped.
Upon request, Torleik relayed a modified tale of how the markings on his horns had come to be and he noticed Tinek's interest. Despite his being a beast of flight and fire (for Torleik did not know Tinek breathed ice), he found he rather liked the little creature. Leaning down so the silver dragon could get a better look, the dual-horned stallion decided he would attempt to sate Tinek's curiosity. "Would you like to know what they say?"
Curiosity of his own taking hold he inquired what flight was like and received an answer that was less descriptive than he'd hoped for. Ophelia had only really answered him a metaphor for flight and how she did not like it. Torleik still had no idea what flying was like. Was it wind in your mane? The feeling of falling with control? Did you feel your weight? Were you weightless? Was it difficult? Did it take much energy? These things he supposed he would not know. With a small sigh to himself, Torleik gave a tight smile and thanked her for her answer. "You seem to be heading in the direction I came from," the rabicano stallion noted. "If you want, I will accompany you to the mouth of the Basin. I have done my share of exploration for the moment and do not wish to go very far from my makeshift hovel," Torleik explained.
11-13-2013, 12:35 AM (This post was last modified: 11-13-2013, 12:43 AM by Tamme.)
Torleik's disdain for the pegasi was transparent in the tone and choosing of his words, and she raised a single brow curiously. Although Ophelia was not particularly in love with the pegasus, she was a half-breed. As such, she really had no right to be selective or reserve judgement for any on species. Being raised by her father no doubt had its own impact, since he tried so hard to make sure that his lands were ruled by the hooves of all kinds. She admired him for that, even if it failed in the long run. Paladin was an idealist, and the world needed more souls like his.
"I have not set hoof in the Basin except at the borders," she replied. Her expression turned stony. The last time she had trespassed on the lands guarded by Deimos, she had very nearly died, and she was not eager to relive that experience. "But, from what I have seen, only your kind lives in the mountains."
Tinek looked up at the stallion's horns when he leaned over, and the dragon sniffed at the markings curiously. The silver creature understood Torleik's words through Phi's mind and nodded eagerly. He wanted to know the story. Ophelia smiled. "Tinek and I are both interested," she responded quietly. Her opinion of the stallion had not changed much, but she did find i strange that he was so bitterly tilted toward the pegasus. Certainly a story must follow this prejudice.
Still, he was polite. Ophelia smiled as he offered to accompany her at least as far as the Basin, so she inclined her head politely and started to walk. Tinek jumped into the air and spread his wings, taking to the skies to follow. She trotted lightly through the thicker banks, her very slender legs easily carrying her through winter's blanket. The breath that plumed from her gray nostrils was white, and she yawned ever so slightly as she realized the day waning. "Why do you hold such disdain for the pegasi?" she asked.
For once, she broke her own rule. She peered into his mind. She wanted the truth. Ophelia knew she shouldn't have, but she wanted to know. She wanted to know if her magic would still work of it she was still as broken as she was forsaken.
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.
11-22-2013, 03:40 PM (This post was last modified: 11-22-2013, 03:41 PM by Torleik.)
Torleik
A lone man loved by none:
How long can he live?
Torleik cocked his head to the side at her words, not understanding. "My kind?" he asked, his eyes obviously roving to the horn atop her dome and her cloven hooves. "You appear more purely unicorn than I," the stallion pointed out. While Ophelia did not possess the leonine tail, she did have the cloven hooves - both things Torleik lacked. In reality, he looked rather like an equine whom someone had taken pity on and decided they would mount horns upon his head.
"Why do you not live in the Basin?" His query was soft, worried that perhaps one of his kind had done something to harm her. It was foolish beyond measure, he knew, but Torleik felt a protectiveness towards this mare, gentle and soft-spoken as she was. Someone like this deserved...so many things even he believed he could not offer, if she even deigned to acknowledge his existence as more than a mere set-piece.
Irritated at the weakness of his loneliness, he bludgeoned his errant wants back into the cave in which he held them captive and instead focused on allowing Ophelia's bonded to inspect his horns. If the dragon was bonded to someone like her, surely it was not a dangerous creature unless thoroughly provoked, yes? That was what the rabicano reasoned to keep himself calm in such close proximity to the tiny silver beast. Indulging their wish for knowledge, as he had offered the morsel, he lifted his head once more. "The right says 'water' and the left says 'grave.'" he related. "All males born among my people were expected to learn to fight, and expected to learn how to co-exist with the sea. Water and death were the two constants in our life."
Torleik flinched involuntarily as Tinek leapt to the air and took flight, trying to prevent his instinct from pinning his ears back to his skull. He succeeded, but barely: his audits still flared back in displeasure and it took a few moments of walking before Torleik could bring his gaze back down to Ophelia. She moved gracefully and he mused that her muscular nature, coupled with decidedly feminine features, would have been highly prized and regarded as the pinnacle of female beauty had she been a part of his home.
Would have had to fend off many suitors bearing many gifts displaying whatever quality they thought best with which to tempt you into marriage, the glacial-eyed stallion mused with a quiet snort. He had never been one of those stallions, chomping at the bit at the cusp of his manhood, ready to claim, bed and impregnate a young, impressionable mare; mold her into the wife he wanted. It was no surprise then, that at a decade of age, he was very much a bachelor.
A few of those at home who were less fond of him liked to claim he didn't take a wife because he was impotent, or worse yet, because he fancied other males. That had been highly frowned upon in his home because it was seen as the ultimate in selfishness: their life was hard enough, and to forgo the ability to reproduce and continue the survival of the herd was unacceptable. Such behavioral tangents were, hypocritically, quite tolerated as long as you fathered children. Making a child was all that mattered; whatever else you did was inconsequential in the long run.
Pulled from his thoughts by a voice that caressed his ears like a warm, gentle touch, Torleik found himself gazing into her captivatingly strange heterochromatic eyes. Ophelia's question, however, was not as pleasant as her vocals. A strange pressure manifested in the back of his skull, and unaware of what they hybrid mare's mind-reading magic felt like, he had no way of knowing she was in his brain. "They destroyed my home. My family. Everyone," he returned with coldness more bitter than the bite of the Frostbreath Steppe.
Memories flooded his mind, unwanted but impossible to resist, bidden to the surface by Ophelia's searching.
It was a bleak, foggy morning, the sky flat grey and impossible to pierce with a normal gaze. That was why they'd gotten so far before being seen, why their aerial attack had been so devastatingly successful. Torleik rose with the dawn as he always did, emerged from his hut and checked the fishing lines. They were heavy with the scaled creatures so he hefted the ones that needed to be harvested, spotting his little nephew nearby. He tasked him with gathering the fish and smiled as the little boy's chest puffed out in pride with his adult task.
The sleep had barely slipped from his little seaside village when the alarum rang out, but it was too late. The fires had already started. The pegasi had come from high, so high up in the sky, above the low fog, and now they plummeted from the grey expanse like birds of prey hurtling in for the kill. His first thought was to rescue his nearby nephew, and he turned, calling out.
It was a mistake. The little boy stopped and Torleik watched in mute horror as a flaming pot smashed into the colt's back, exploding and engulfing the child. He screamed only for a second or two, the fire burning his lungs quickly and offering him a short but painful death. Shock was benevolently kind and numbed the dual-horned stallion, his shattered mind flicking images of family rapidly past his consciousness. His parents. His brother. His aunt and uncle.
Solid hooves bore him to the hut his mother and father resided, the structure blazing with those wicked flames already, the roof caving in. He screamed for them, calling their names, disastrous, sinking dread making him sick to his stomach when his mother called back. She ordered him to go, to get out, to take anyone who could make it and run. He could see her through a hole in the hut, her face half-burnt, eye blistered shut. He argued. She remained firm. They both knew he couldn't save her, and his father had already passed, his head nearly cleaved from his neck by a falling, fire-eaten rafter from the ceiling.
One last time, she told him to go, that she loved him and he needed to go, and everything in him collapsed. There was no strong warrior who had seen battle after battle and come out alive and victorious. There was no experienced male, well into adulthood, prepared for the viciousness of life. There was only a terrified little boy and the pain and loss of leaving his family behind.
And he ran.
Torleik's feet had been mechanically carrying him along with his travel-mate, and when the memory stopped, he felt like he was resurfacing from being submerged far too long. The clarity of the present here and now was sweeter than anything he remembered and he clung to it desperately, not wanting to get lost in his mind again. "I...apologize," he murmured, not knowing how long he was silent or if she'd spoken while he'd been trapped in that hell.
Ophelia raised a brow ever so slightly. "Prejudice does not listen to reason," she explained quietly. "The purity of blood excuse can be used against anyone whom they do not like." She smiled softly. "I am not sure how many in the Basin adhere to that sort of thought, but my father has always been suspicious." The pale mare shrugged slightly at his question. "I am not sure I would be entirely unwelcome, but I prefer to be on my own."
What would he think if he knew that she had lead her own herd of mercenaries? Would that have changed his mind? Well, that and living with Deimos was absolutely not an option. She had been foolish, but she had only been a child. Who would murder a child? That thought always chilled her...
When Torleik explained the runes on his horns, she relayed the information to Tinek who grinned a toothy grin. She smiled, liking the lore that went behind his appearance. So often the markings and scars on bodies had no meaning, but his bound him to the sea and to the fate of all. Ophelia found the chilling finality of the runes beautiful, and it seemed very fitting for such a strong and powerful creature. "The symmetry of being bound to the sea and the end of life," she complimented.
When Tinek took off, she continued to walk, unperturbed by Torleik's reaction. She was not entirely surprised. He was a predator, and fear was a good emotion that kept everyone safe. She did not possess such evolutionary fears and instincts, and more often than not, this landed her in quite a bit of trouble.
Ophelia listened to what he said about his family and peered into his mind. The image she found there was horrifying. How could he not hate a species for what he had seen? For the tragedy that had overcome his entire family? She continued moving by his side as he revisited the memory, and she found it interesting how some parts were so clear and others so foggy. Was this how normal memories worked? If she were normal, would she have moments of clarity and some foggy memories? The thought of not remembering all was a pleasant one, especially if she had such history as Torleik.
She shook her head. "No need to apologize," she murmured. "I am sorry about your family," she said quietly. Ophelia still had her parents, but her life was not a simple one. Still, nothing quite so... horrifying had ever happened to her before; she felt for Torleik. "I have a friend with wings," she said, thinking of Midas. "He is very kind. Perhaps he would change your mind."
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.
“Most do not listen to reason,” he grunted in annoyance. So many were fools. It was a shame. “I am not…thrilled by those within the Basin, but it is as close to home as I know. Unfortunately, however, my residing there seems to be a stigma despite my not being like those within.” Torleik looked at her curiously, wondering as Ophelia said she preferred to be on her own. Why? Even if someone told you they could love you endlessly and be your happiness day after day? Even if they promised to be what you needed? Would you push that way? And why? Romantic notions aside, Torleik was aware he could say little on this subject. He was guilty of preferring to remain alone in his own way anyhow by refusing to let himself develop potentially dangerously tethering feelings for anyone.
However, the irony of that was that this mare, who did not seem to want anything from him, was making him desire ever more to give her something, anything. Torleik felt whatever he might have to offer was good enough for someone, for her, for it to be taken seriously and not cast aside so simply. Rationally he knew that Ophelia was not thinking within herself, ‘This stallion has something to offer me and I will reject it.’ But that did not change that her…seeming indifference to his attempts to be kind frustrated him to the point of wanting to keep doing things just so that she would acknowledge that he was, indeed, worthy somehow.
Irritating and funny how that worked. The dual-horned stallion did not like that he felt this way because of her; he did not like being influenced within himself by others overmuch. “That is a lonely existence,” the large male murmured softly. “I would know.” His coldly blue eyes glanced at Tinek and he spoke again. “Though, I suppose having your dragon eases that somewhat?” It was a question because he knew he could be wrong. “And perhaps being alone while by yourself is not so painful as being alone while surrounded by others.” Maybe he should do as she did and wander alone instead of attempting to find an awkward and forced place within a home that would never be his.
Torleik’s opinion of her likely would have not changed, the more he learned about her. In truth, he was a little blinded by his own loneliness and her beauty and calm nature. Ophelia was the personification of something he desperately needed: peace. In some ways her personality reminded him of his mother’s, but he did not wish to delve into the psychology of males seeking out those who were most like their mothers – not for the strangeness of that, but because of the pain it would cause him to associate with Ophelia rather than the pleasant calm he did now.
The stallion explained his horns to the mare and her dragon and he stood a little more proud at her compliment, pleased at winning her approval in even such a small way. Their conversation took a darker turn when the subject turned to his hatred for the pegasi, and unbeknownst to Torleik, Ophelia fully understood him by her glimpse into his memories. Truthfully, he would not have objected to her getting inside of his mind. Such sorcery did not make him uneasy and he did not find many things worth the utter privacy that one’s mind provided. Events, knowledge, information, feelings – they were all meant to be known, it just depended on when they were revealed. His smile when Ophelia apologized for his family was grim, and for a few moments, his eyes showed that inside he was much, much older than even his current mature age suggested. “It was not your fault, but I appreciate the sentiment,” he murmured, moving slightly closer to her. The memories hurt, and he longed for some measure of comfort from that pain. Unsure of how to get it, though, he simply kept walking with her, a frown of his mouth that was not displeased, but not thrilled, taking up residence on his muzzle. “I am content with present company, thank you,” Torleik replied.
Movement in the sky caught his eye and he assumed it to be Tinek. Turning his attention upward proved him wrong: the sky had grown dark and flickers of color were snaking across the sky, barely visible but there nonetheless. Awed, the dual-horned stallion stopped and watched, seeing that as it grew darker, the colors grew brighter. “Beautiful,” he whispered, feeling at home. These were not the silken ribbons in the sky of his land, but they were a good substitute, a good patch for the wound of his missing home. Torleik’s eyes found the white mare again and he considered her for a moment. “It is late, and getting colder. Where I sleep is not but a few hills of snow that way,” he told her, nodding slightly to their right. “I can keep watch if you wish to rest for the evening. There is…nowhere safe to stay between here and wherever your destination might be.”
Take my offer, please. Let me do something. Let me be useful. Let me be worth something to you.
[[OOC: Love him T-T lol. Also, let me know if you can read that easily? Thanks!]]
One day, Ophelia might have argued with him, some time in the past. She had once devoutly believed that everyone was inherently good, but the darkness in her own heart and proven otherwise. So, she revealed a grim smile, glancing his way. Did he know how truly sick she was on the inside? Could he see right through? "I am sure that they will warm to you," she replied confidently. "They would be foolish not to, and I have never considered my aunt to be a fool."
Ophelia remembered her encounter with her father's sister. Psyche was formidable, bright and keen. Her mind was a jackal, vicious with sharpened teeth, and she had the ability to use it like a weapon. Little did she know, Psyche was facing her own turmoil.
As he passed his judgement on her way of life, she raised a brow. What was he playing at? What did he want? Lonely? Lonely was worshiping a god who had loved you and then getting told to never come into his presence again. Lonely was not remembering a single loving word being spoken and discovering you were pregnant with no memory of the father. Lonely was having to leave your sister because she was following a blood path you could not take. She knew lonely. She was lonely. But now? She was used to it, bitter even.
The mention of her dragon brought a small smile to her lips. Yes, Tinek did ease the loneliness. He was kind and humorous and little dorky, and he had a way of lifting her spirits and bringing her back into the present. "Tinek is... I am grateful for his presence," she said, glancing in the direction of the demon horned stallion. "I have found that being in company is lonelier than being in solitude with myself, but I have responsibilities. I cannot run any longer." Motherhood. She was a horrible parent.
The memory she had gleaned from his mind had been tragic, and she felt her heart begin to tentatively crawl from its hiding place. She warned it back in. How did that experience change him? Was he dark in the inside? She nodded as he thanked her for caring about his situation and then smiled when he said that he enjoyed her company. Few cared for it, so his words were flattering. As her hooves came to a pause next to his, she watched the colors of the sky; they cast a beautiful reflection on her white coat.
Shards of stone caught in her hair began to sparkle and catch in the light, only revealing their nature in the darkness. She was almost glowing. His words were kind, but she shook her head. "My destiny is south and your home - " she nodded in the direction of the Aurora Basin "- is that way." Ophelia gazed into his blue orbs with her dual colored ones, the crimson and blue a symbol for her split nature.
"I will travel through the night. I have places to be..." Daughters to see... Ophelia leaned up and pressed her muzzle softly to his cheek. "Good evening, Torleik." The pale princess glanced over her shoulder at him before disappearing into the whiteness of the snow, dragon following like mist in her wake.
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.
“Perhaps,” Torleik replied simply, looking at her for a few moments. “Why would they be foolish not to warm up to me?” If she was going to say something like that with implications that he was worth warming up to, she should at least say why. Give him something. But Ophelia, somehow, did not seem the type. Those in the Basin seemed…he would not classify them all as racist, but they were thrilled with the idea of being unicorns as they were.
It was not his intention to be judgemental of her existence, merely observational. Such a life was lonely, and he knew it. The dual-horned stallion did not presume to compare his loneliness to hers, only to empathize. Her raised brow indicated to him that he had done something but he did not know what, so Torleik said little more on the subject, focusing instead on Tinek. That the dragon was a frost and shock beast was better than fire, and he was acclimating to the decently sized reptile.
“I see,” he murmured when Ophelia told him she had responsibilities she could not run from any longer. Could he help her? She seemed hellbent on turning him away, open as he was trying to be. Did she not like him? Did she not want him around? Perhaps she thought he did not like her. Self-doubt was easy to come by and hard to rid oneself of. Torleik made sure to voice that he was pleased with her company in case this was the reason for her aloofness, though he fell silent as they paused and the aurora in the sky made gorgeous colors on the white mare next to him.
Was it his loneliness that made her so beautiful to him? Was it that she seemed indifferent? He offered to travel with her but she rejected him yet again, and the wound was beginning to stick. A small amount of anger flashed in his eyes that she gazed into, but he said nothing at the moment. The white and crimson-tipped mare shocked him by pressing her muzzle to his cheek before bidding him goodnight, and the irritation within him burned intensely.
It felt as though Ophelia was toying with him now, being distant until the last moment, giving him a sliver of hope. Hope for what, you fool? he thought bitterly, still motionless where she had left him when Torleik saw her glance back. Maybe he would see her again, but somehow, he doubted that. She had things to attend to; places to be.
Ophelia watched him carefully as he asked why they would not warm up to him. Was he dense, lacking in self-esteem, or did he just want to hear her compliments? Maybe he was just shy? Still, he seemed far too confident to be shy. Either way, he had asked and she would answer. "You are obviously strong, capable and thoughtful. I would imagine those qualities would be an asset to a herd." The tone of her voice was genuine, though her eyes gazed at him with slight suspicion. She did not have any interest in feeding his ego.
She had to find her daughter alone. Torleik had responsibilities too, right? Did he just forget those? Ophelia explained, but his cooler demeanor which met her in two words made her stiffen. So, did he only want something from her then? Now that she was pulling away, was the chase gone? Did he realize that she would not be an easy target to charm? Somehow, even though all of those questions were sensible, they did not seem to fit Torleik.
He had been open and kind up until now. Why could he not just accept that this stranger he just met had things to do? Things that he could not help with? Her trust was not easily given and was difficult to earn. Still, as he gazed at her, she pressed her muzzle to his cheek in a polite and kind 'goodbye', and she received no response. That... stung. He said nothing, did nothing. In fact, she could almost feel his irritation, and a slight brush with his mind told her that he was!
Hurt flashed briefly over her dual colored eyes before she schooled her features to emptiness. Stiffly, she recoiled and walked forward without a word. Rebuffed, Ophelia did not look back as she left, wondering how their pleasant conversation had gone so sour. With a frown, she thought that she should be less open with strangers, especially if they wanted something from her that she could not give. Why was no one just willing to support her as she made her own choices? The pale princess walked through the snow and pushed on through the night, getting far away from the dark prince.
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.
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