tempting knowledge || scholar/healers

#1

09-18-2013, 07:33 PM

Eleven birds of varying sizes and colors were perched in a lonely tree. There was something particular about these birds: perhaps it was the way they seemed to speak in those lilting voices of theirs in another language entirely, or the fact that birds of prey mingled freely with tiny songbirds; no, it was none of those. It was definitely in the way they were arranged around a single rock dove. The bird was visibly aged, white feathers sprinkled among grey, but there was an alert gleam in her eyes, and the rest of the birds surrounded her, listening intently to her quiet coos and trills.

You cannot recognize this language.

The pigeon carries on for a while, the moonlight glistening upon her iridescent breast. Her voice was quiet, but commanding; wizened, but not unkind. Occasionally, the birds nod and whistle in response, but for the most part they are silent, the pale light glistening in their shiny eyes.

The meeting concludes - that is obvious.

Upon the pigeon's signal, her posse disperses in every direction, soaring high and low, near and far.

They seek you.

They will come to you, follower of knowledge - they will claw at your hair and sing for you until your hooves have no other choice than to follow their beckoning. They will lead you up a narrow trail which leads to the Heavenly Field, now particularly spectacular beneath the shimmering stars and the pregnant moon. You will be led to the selfsame tree which leans over the very edge of earth and heaven, and there is the pigeon watching you intently.

There is a meeting under this divine dome - that much is obvious; but for what?

[A bird will lead you to this meeting!]

#2

09-18-2013, 08:09 PM

Huyana slept peacefully by the reflecting lake.

Flowers tickled her nose while icy water lapped at her side. The roan was a picture of serenity: she was strewn upon the shore, head resting on an extended foreleg, while the rest of her limbs were tucked neatly beneath her. Her tail was curled about a hind leg, and she snored softly, sensless to the world surrounding her. Occasionally, her nose quivered and her eyelids fluttered - what did the unicorn dream of tonight? Of pleasant spring rains and a world laden with life, or of deluges, rushing down mountains and reaping life as if were mere wheat. This was not relevant, for the evening (or was it morning? One could never tell with this unending night) was fresh and the stars shone down upon her.

In the meanwhile, a pale snowy owl propelled itself over the cooler currents of the north, gliding over the small bay between the Heavenly Fields and the Basin with unparalleled ease. He was employed to scout this particular biome of Helovia for any of the scholarly pursuit; and so he did, orange eyes roving over the lush valley for any sign of life.

Names and faces had been given to him of the Basin's resident scholars and healers, and a little dark blob by the lake seemed promising. He swooped down below, enjoying the cool breeze rustling between his pale feathers. The shapeless thing quickly became a unicorn - a sterling roan mare with an onyx horn perched upon her brow: Huyana. If birds could smile triumphantly, he certainly would have. He extended his talons toward her, grasping at bits of mane and hooting loudly to rouse the mare from her slumber.

Sleepily, the rainchild tossed her head with annoyance, watching the bird from beneath thick eyelashes. He continued on plucking hairs from her crest until finally she stood, ears pinned. "What do you want?" She wondered uselessly, assuming that this particular avian had no business knowing the common tongue. But how she was mistaken - he was not just any owl, but a highly educated one, and of a sublime breeding, at that. He fixed the unicorn with a stern glance - one that meant business - and that was universal in any language. Huyana understood.

With a final tug at her forelock, the owl took wing and flittered off. "Follow," he suggested in a voice awkward and difficult to understand, but she found meaning in his command. Begrudgingly, Huyana did as he asked.

---

Dark hooves moved through lush grass - she had arrived. The owl led her to a single tree which leaned precariously over the land's end. Small, pale flowers surrounded it, like a nebula of little stars, seeming to glow under the moonlight. He found perch beside a grizzled pigeon, which fixed her with a gaze both infinitely old and wise. "Huyana, scholar of the Basin," the ancient bird addressed, her voice deep and clear and free of any sort of avian accent. The unicorn tilted her head, intrigued by this speaking bird. "Knowledge is soil," the pigeon said, "It must grow and be spread like earth, and minds planted within it. If properly tilled and cared for, these minds will flourish." She tilted her head, watching the roan carefully. "If left to fallow, these minds will fail, and weeds will soon strangle them. Cultivate, my child. Soon, many of your following will arrive. Impart my message to them - share your knowledge, your experience. No voice shall be overlooked." With a last, lingering glance, the bird departed, leaving the astounded rainchild alone, beneath the improbable oak tree.

She must wait now.

#3

09-18-2013, 08:42 PM

I had only been heading towards the Arch, straight for the place that I had once called home. Now, I smelt of sand that was blown within winds, glistening particles of shimmering moonlight. Home was now within the desert, far from the ice and snow that was the North. Daddy had gone with me to ensure that I was safe, and Miss Kri accepted us after figuring out that maybe we weren't going to hurt her. The wounds upon the mare with pale beauty caused me to wonder about the life that went about inside a herd. It made me feel awkward to be with some many others. Not a second had gone by that I wondered how everyone was doing at what was my real home. Within a shell of bone, my brain was already thinking of my true family, distant yet close at the same time. Something went across my mind as of Adrixaura's dead companion, a blue jay, when that seemed to come true.
These sort of things just sort of happen, if you know what I mean. One day, you happen to be walking along humming a tune in your head, you think a thought, and it comes to reality when it slaps you in the face. Literally.
I was skipping about, not really ready to out grow that interesting pace that fillies like myself took part in. The horn upon my head glowed a pale blue in the darkness, a lantern within the warm night. Then, a bird hit me straight in the face.
For those that have never actually be hit in the face by a bird, it's a truly unique experience. The first thought that went through my head (I don't know about you, though.) was 'What in the name of Moon just happened?!', and then when I noticed it was a bird (only because a feathered wing slapped me in the eye ball), the next thought seemed a bit unneeded, but admit it, you'd think it too.
Dear mother of God of Time, did it poop on my face?
Because its gonna be the thought that goes through your head when it happens. If I had been flung through the night only to hit someone's glowing face, you might as well crap all over your feathers.
He went about with a reaction somewhat similar to my own. I panicked, not used to the idea of that sensation, while he fluttered about, wings going in each direction as he tried to get his balance. In my childish ways, I giggled, like the little girl I am, trying to coax myself after I just got hit head on. He, on the other hand, was angered by the fact that I just giggled at him.
The giggle was more of a "Teehee." than a giggle, amusement lighting up my eyes. The right one was red and puffy, not exactly the most beautiful sight when your eyes are pale blue with grey flecks. He was before me, and then over my head, past my glow, going for my mane that was finally just happening to grow about to a longer length. Like any girl would be, now that my mane was growing out to be a beautiful sandy colour, I adored it. I had even found some flowers while walking and tried to braid them into it, only to fail. Still, I thought it was beautiful. Oh, it was so beautiful, and every girl needs to be a bit proud of her 'do' every once in awhile.
For him, my hair was just hair, and his tiny talons went at it, tugging and pulling. What sensation followed it was something I never ever wanted to feel, because he was actually making some progress of dragging me by my hair.
My hair.
My motherfucking beautiful hair that was finally growing out.
"HEY! LET GO OF MY MANE. MINE. MY HAIR!!!! LET GO YOU BASTARD!!!!!"
Never before in my life had I actually been mad at someone, but this little bird knew how just to press the buttons that turned my anger to a nuclear bomb. As a newborn, for my first few weeks when it was a death sentence to leave the safety of the Arch, I'd been impatient. It was a kind of impatientance that came with being little, and my Uncle Tonka had been kind enough to teach me the ways of patientance, which I followed everyday. Yet this bird, I wouldn't mind that much of throwing my head around and sending him flying.
That happened to be the sort thing that I did.
Sort of.
Naturally, when an Unicorn or an Unicorn hybrid (like myself, though I remain oblivious to this) is born, a horn is amounted upon their head. It is only a nub, but for me, as a foal, what told me I had a horn, was the ever constant glow that errupted from deep within. That horn was molded naturally to be some sort of weapon, yet the only time it could of been a weapon was when Tonka rolled over on top of me (that fat bastard) and squished me. My series of angry squeaks and pokes with my horn got him off. Eventually.
Yet, for my companion, my horn was a baseball bat, whatever that happened to be. His talons weren't dug into my do as much I thought they were, so when my head and neck were swung about to free myself, he was catapulted off me, towards my horn, which then hit him. I swear, you could never see a bird fly the way he did.
At some point, he catch his coordination and returned to me, as I laughed at him. There was some weird humour to our shared annoyances to each other, and when this time he only tugged on the dark blue hairs at the base of my tail, I went. He scrapped me upon the blue circular marking on my rump, awakening me a bit more than I needed to. When he went off, his small wings fluttering as fast as he was able to go, there I was to trail. I skipped, he flew, we both remained quiet.
He took me to a place I'd only been once, the fogs shrouding the path causing me to almost nip at him occasionally just to be aware of his location. Here, I was blind. Even the light from my horn couldn't help me.
Suddenly, the world opened it's blind eyes, basking within the glory of pale moonlight upon bony fingers of mist. My companion took off before me, leaving me alone beneath a galaxy of stars. All above me, they twinkled with amusement, blinking bright eyes upon my small body. In these types of moments, I can feel the actual youth I had been blessed with and just how perfect it felt to own.
Silence was ended when a mare was added of me, a voice coming from somewhere. I never understood the exact owner, but my feathered friend had gone to the tree that the mare stood before. I went, carried forth with endless amounts of curiousity and partial annoyance. When I got to the tree, the flowers beneath it added to the eerie light we were given. It had been my horn that sort of made the moment more unique.
It's glow was there to ignite my path within the endless ebony sheath that covered the land, to guide me home and to take others to their needed safeties. Having it there with me at all times, it became a blessing beyond belief. Tonight, it ignited the mare and I, the birds within the lone tree, and the flowers.
She oddly, in a stomach churning sort of a way, reminded me of home, where my path was to lead me before the blue jay came and took me here. For her, chances would be she didn't know me. I smelt of sand and sweet grasses, maybe sprinkles of sea salt that rode upon the area nearest the beach. When I had come to join the Dragon's Throat, I never knew of the complexities that were within a herdland. My thoughts had been short and childish, not extending outwards, but now they reached out further than they should at my young age.
Somehow, my brain knew exactly how to deal the cards that left me out-growing this body.
"Sikeax, once the healer for an outcast group called the Assassins, I've only shortly belonged to the Throat, only looking to extend my medical practices. Why am I here?"
Again, age is painted over with my words. Odd, how I seem to be everything I don't look to be. Sick, is the word that might be more expressing. My palest blue hues turn to the mare, who stands with a proud glaze over her. She is beautiful, more beautiful than I can dream of being. Instantly, she gives off a bittersweet aura to me. There is a reminder that Adrixaura was still my mother, and that I shouldn't have left her when I did. What makes the bittersweet part, happens to be the fact they smell of the snow and ice.
Oh heartbreak is the worst when it happens to small children.
"Hi. Can I ask your name? Might you know of the reason we're here?"
Simple. She just needs to give me a simple answer to fix and mend my worries, but would she even offer those comforts? ..

If you could hear me then, can you hear me now?

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#4

09-21-2013, 04:26 PM

The fluttering of wings, the twittering and unfolding of sonnets, the brief, warm decibels of melodic convictions, breathed against her ears and Lena stirred from her past sentiments, stared upon the small flinch clambering for her attention. It displayed grandiose movements and motions, swelling with pride for a magnificent twirl, for a wondrous spin, for a contemplative dive, and she wished to mimic its grandeur, its splendor, its radiance, but had no power to fly. Imogen chased after its flighty, lofty gestures, chirped and danced beneath the swirling waltzes, and the nymph laughed for the first time in ages, permitted mirth to bubble up from her chest, float into the abyss of constellations and midnight shades. Beguiled and dazzled, she trumpeted her own set of lark chords, sweetly stirring the ground with mellifluous hymns and warbles – the bird followed suit, courting the sweet nocturne into an array of song and warmth, and before long unicorn and kitsune were followers of its strain, entranced, swindled by the break of its aria, by the rise and fall of its ditty, by the tracks of vapor coiled in its flittering, hovering plumage. Over rocks and pebbles, over stones and ice, over glaciers and perilous walls, drifting into ashen melancholy, into bestial fortitudes, awakening the daunting press of their venturing pursuits. Stirred by the yearning, the longing, for a distraction, for a diversion, for an interruption in the twisting barbs of her heavenly annihilation, the mare never failed to accompany the finch’s tenderness. Led into the Heavenly Fields, bounding for the horizon, scorching the scars and stars, the trio wandered into dusk and hallowed bits of salvation, not asking why, not trembling beneath the weight of curiosity, not sliding her intrigue across the clouds and feathers. She allowed herself to be guided, escorted and ushered, varnished in the siege of warmth and generosity. A familiar form rustled and stirred her heart, for beyond the surface of the wide terrain there stood a figure of blue, as noble, as incandescent, as beautiful as she’d always been, and the bird uttered one final strain, shifted direction, bade her to stray upon this enlightening path. Sylph and fox flew across the terrain, united in speculation, excitement and familiarity, ethereal, elegant, returning to the hymns once broken, once lost, remembering days before shattered remnants were all that held them together.

“Huyana!” Lena crooned over the earth, flourishing strides and steps until they were elongated facets of glorious, petalsoft movements, gliding particles of honey, ambrosia and ivory, all seeking to greet a long lost friend, a cascading shower, a cooling bout of rain. Upon her arrival, a smile transformed her features, hiding and ghosting over the weary thoughts, the failures, the dominations, the sinister refrains and chilling accompaniments, coiling them into former rhapsody, merriment and whimsy. “How good to see you again!” Her excitement brewed into each invocation, and only after she’d maintained her semblance of reverie did she manage to notice the other standing nearby, young, unfamiliar, tender and wholesome. Tones echoed, renewed by the space of time and exuberance, wonder and delight, pushing past the seams of thorns and lacerations. “I’m Lena.” A playful bow ensued, Imogen following suit in entertaining rapture, tails bobbing amidst the long, waving grass, before the sylph was prompted once more, to speculate, to pry, to unravel in the heavy midst of silence. Were they all shepherded here? To what purpose, to what reason? For anarchy, or deliverance? For upheaval, or serenity? For insurrection, or sanctuary?

her passions are made of nothing but the finest part of pure love

LENA

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#5

09-22-2013, 09:19 PM

The bird comes to her as she sails; a jay, blue and white in color, matching the feather in her mane. It flirts in the wind of her wings for a time, largely unnoticed by the troubled pegasus who's weighted heart made it difficult for her to stay aloft. The jay would not suffer through such easy dismissal however, not by it's nature and certainly not when it had a mission to fulfill. Soon enough the jay was cutting across Ampere's path, harrying her mane with tiny talons, and prodding her hide with a seed-murdering beak.

The attention was at first endearing, Ampere had a soft spot in her heart for jays and their antics, but the affection quickly passed into heated annoyance. Ampere pulled out all her tricks, but her size was too great to beat the agility of the pesky jay. She attempted gentle blows to deter the oddly motivated bird, but her heart wasn't in it, not wanting to truly hurt the jay, and its athletics once more outmatched her. Setting her teeth to a grind Ampere tried to simply out fly the bird, yet it latched onto her, its perseverance eventually driving her into confused submission. It relented only when she flew a certain direction and in seeking respite, she did as she was bade, apparently.

The annoyance at being cowed by a bird had her continually trying to avert direction, but true to its kind the jay was equally clever and mischievous.
After a while she couldn't remember why she ever liked jays - at least in the moment she couldn't admit to admiring the blue devil.

After a time the tree and its water's edge appeared, a group of dark shapes unfolding below. Ampere was leery of dealing with more horses, still licking her wounds from the last group interaction she had with that odd doe and the unfortunate child encased in an egg (undoubtedly a slave by now), yet the bird persisted and weariness encouraged her to drop altitude for respite.

Black wings fringed in blue buffeted the wind into momentary cooperation as Ampere dropped into the tree with a great swooping rush. Her body tilted back, wings cupping the air, her tail angling down to catch the drag and slow her momentum and descent. Tentatively her hind feet reached out for a sturdy branch, testing a few that proved too sway-worthy - likely inducing a spring shower of leaves to any standing below. Finally though one proved strong enough, and on that bow Ampere alighted, her hooves precariously balancing along with the line of her neck as she stretched it out to peer down at the gathering below. She regarded them with a defensive expression, the red, raw flesh from the tar's burns evident on her legs. The large and scabbed hole of blood and meat in her neck from the unicorn's horn was less noticeable, surrounded by the vibrancy of her marking that ran on her left side and the messy lay of her mane. She was hurting, both in body and mind, and that's exactly why the bird brought her here.

Her blue gaze flicked over each of them in turn, but it settled longest and hardest on the mare whom's heels the fox clung to.
Companion she seethed, her teeth clenching so tight a visible line worked up her jaw, hopefully shadowed in this endless night and her dark hide - but there was no hiding her eyes that jabbed out of the dark like headlights, and they held all her loathing for Lena. Still, Ampere minded herself as much as she was able. Injury by injury she was learning to pick her battles, and that doing so meant you couldn't pick one every time you met someone.
Pity.

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