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Post by seawitchgrandpa on Apr 3, 2021 9:36:37 GMT -6
Nizar Aodh | Sanctum Attendant, Azar
TL;DR: too many thought for him head Mentions: Phoenix (not be name) Interacts with: Moira
Dragons. Hundreds, swarming and singing like a murmuration of starlings, a strange song made of the discordant voices of little dragons. Nizar was both spellbound and unsettled, like watching a cliff-face waterlogged with rain that would fall at any moment, a pregnant pause before the hillside gave away. He was no soothsayer, but something in his gut told him these things could only be signs to come. But he could not tell if this foretold promise or failure. They marched like a single living thing, a serpentine dragon that coiled through the streets to Hearthstone Palace past eyes that Nizar refused to look at, for fear of what he would see. Some, no doubt, walked with them in spirit. He wondered if others were memorizing faces to find later. “Please, Flamen, lean on me,” He asked Moira quietly as the crowd swelled with destiny on their shoulders and Nizar, too, could feel it stir something in his young heart. At just a little over two decades old, Aodh could sometimes seem eternal, unchanging, but here; here he felt something greater than himself. An intoxicating and terrifying thrill of witnessing history for himself. Even if at the moment he inhabited a strange paradoxical place of feeling all too small and all too much at once. At slave to his left asked Euonia and Moira who She was and Nizar, too, felt obliged to answer as a sanctum attendant. But that was the great question: who was She? Could they be referring to another god? Kaia, Alya? Surely she had to be terribly important, and Nizar had the instinct to feel great embarrassment for not knowing who She could be, as if he’d forgotten the name of someone very important who would be attending a party—a faux pas he’d done more than once, though.
WC: 303 Post: #2 |
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Post by ThatDenver on Apr 3, 2021 17:01:16 GMT -6
CHECKPOINT
Dragonsong leads you on your way, the flock swooping around you, fervently singing – and a strange song it is. If you focus too much, you lose the words, but when you just let it be, play in the background, the words are clear once more.
And pygmies are not ones to speak the common tongue.
A mystery, perhaps, for someone to solve.
Finally, the palace is right there. It seems to peaceful from the outside, even as the redness of dawn colors the pavement before you. White marble is red like blood, and yet the palace is quiet.
Approaching from this side, you are far from the front door – indeed, what stands in front of you is the great plaza, and the Royal Balcony. Here, the crowd has stood many a time to hear a King speak; most recently, perhaps, when Isador told you of his plans for the refugees and the labor slaves.
And as you get closer, you realize he is right there – high up, standing near the doors of the balcony, visible through the windowed doors as he watches some scene unfold.
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Post by Luneby on Apr 5, 2021 10:52:41 GMT -6
 E U O N I A"Renunciation, total and sweet."
Euonia had expected obstacles along the way. Supporters of Isador trying they’d have to fend off, others who would block them out of fear of the repercussion such a revolt would cause.
Yet, nothing interrupted the march, which walked smoothly through the streets as it grew in numbers. That alone was strange enough- Ignacio was many things but soothing minds or causing apathy was not his realm. But then came the droning, drowning out her thoughts before she realized what was going on.
She wordlessly stopped as she noticed others had behind her, heads raised towards the sky.
Countless Pygmy dragons – some she could swear she had seen before- had taken to the skies and seemed driven by a hivemind towards the Palace, just like they were.
Then it struck her – the song, humming at the back of her mind as her gaze could not leave the swarm. A song she struggled to hear – that she could not focus on, only when her thoughts drifted towards something else, towards explanations. She walked again without saying a word, orbs of light encouraging the crowd to keep moving.
Phoenix’s worried voice interrupted her train of thoughts. She laid confused eyes on the younger mare, knowing she could not answer her.
“While Ignacio can present as any gender, and as much as Pygmies are of Him, I don’t think “She” is him… or any goddess that we know of, but I could be wrong.” She paused, lost in thoughts for a moment. “But I think this likely has to do with the sky, if Ignacio could not give us a clear answer, I’m afraid no one else can. I think we’re going to have to wait and see for ourselves who “She” could be. I don’t think we need to be worried for now– we have the Sun by our side and it appears her goals align with ours.”
While there are ideas she could think of, whoever the Dragonsong referred to was the least of her concerns currently. Soon, she would forget about it completely – the second they found themselves before Hearthstone Palace – which was strikingly quiet and yet reeked of blood. Her eyes darted towards the pale silhouette – blood rushing to her head as anger made her see red.
”Isador.” She called, loud as a church bell.
”Show yourself. Face the judgement of the people you betrayed.”
The song looped at the back of her mind, inexplicably entrancing her as she spoke, fanning the flames of wrath in her heart.
”Your beast has fallen and so have your lies. Tonight, your reign ends. We have come to reclaim the Crown you stole.”
She fell silent – knowing voices would rise after hers. Tonight, slaves could speak against King and had the upper hand. She hoped he was cornered – but feared Isador had another trick up her sleeve. For now, they’d have to stand ready, and demand what was owed to Aodh’s people.
***
WC: 490| Post # 7
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Post by seechem on Apr 5, 2021 11:14:50 GMT -6
A D E L A I D E
an Eminent of House Julius
'Though I will wait forever more, my love will never die...'
... ...
While at first Indrina's suggestion made Adelaide want to rebuke her and vehemently swear she wouldn't be going anywhere, the Eminent had a point. There were younger horses than she at the march, and some already weakened and scarred from the events earlier that night. She and Sereya had the capability to help them, should the need arise, so she nodded firmly. "That can be done." She looked to Sereya, hoping she understood. But should things go south she would get her girlfriend out of there. Neither of them were fighters, sure Addie had been trained with the sword, but basic self-defence only. At the scale this march was heading for, the pair would easily be overwhelmed.
As they progressed, rising voices caught in her pricked ears, and with a mix of awe and shock she realised they were the voices of pygmy dragons. They seemed to be following the procession, and Adelaide quirked a brow at Sereya, "What do you think they mean? Who is She?" Euonia, who was not too far ahead of them, spoke up, and Adelaide listened attentively. It made sense, but Adelaide wondered anxiously whether they were singing about another wyvern? Maybe that was why the little dragons were so excited. The thought made her press her side against Sereya even more firmly, and cast a commanding eye towards Aegon. She prayed he understood the look they shared, that they were to get away should things go wrong.
Glowing red marble flowed out around them all, painted by the sky. It all seemed eerily quiet after the loud roar of flames. The crowd spilled out to fill the courtyard, and Adelaide trotted to stay near Euonia, Moira, Rosalba and the others who had been at the Goldhead originally. A silence seemed to fall across the crowd, and one voice rang out. Euonia. The Flamen's golden head shimmered in the rising sun, and even with the voices of the pygmies filling the air, her tone and message rang out to them all. Adelaide's eyes squinted in the encroaching light, watching the balcony as a figure watched from inside. "Coward." She hissed under her breath, her teeth clenched. She looked across at the Advisor, before brushing her shoulder against Sereya's. Whatever happened next, however the King chose to answer their calls, they would be ready.
   Word Count: 416 Post #7 Mentions: Indrina, Rosalba, Euonia Interacts With: Sereya, Aegon (with a glance) |
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Post by seechem on Apr 5, 2021 11:29:17 GMT -6
A N G É L I Q U E
a sanctum attendant of Oralee
'When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a star, I wanna be in movies...'
......
Phoenix's soft words made her smile. "As I welcome yours," She replies, dipping her head in response, and recognition, "I am in awe." She fell into step beside Phoenix and her aunt, Eliina seeming to stay close to Phoenix as well, as the group made progress. Their numbers swelled with every step they took towards the Palace. How long until someone stood in their path? But no one did. At worst, they received some angered glances and the back of retreating heads. This might actually be possible after all.
The voices of singing pygmies made Angélique jump. "How are they-" her words flitted out as the tried to catch everything they sang. 'She comes...a pillar of light...a crown awoken...she comes in glory...a lion will rip out the throat of a wyvern...?' Her skin bristled, and she looked between those closest to her. Flamen Euonia's answer, or at least attempt, soothed her mind a little, and she kept close to her. Whatever or whoever this 'She' was, the pygmy dragons seemed to be rejoicing and guiding their march to the palace. Surely then, that meant whoever 'She' was was on their side.
The Palace courtyard was bathed in the light of an approaching new day, and Angélique looked around in surprise at the scale their march had become. She could not see the end of the march behind them as more bodies filled the grounds beneath the King's balcony. She had only been near the Palace once, and seeing it filled in this way felt exciting, if scary. A hush fell across them all as Euonia spoke, and Angélique looked up at her, mouth agape with a bright, triumphant smile. Yes, Flamen Euonia, of her blood, so strong and true and just. It felt right that she issue the challenge. It felt like electricity was racing through Angélique's very being, she was so excited. She quivered, hopping on her small hooves to try and see if anyone was on the balcony, suddenly falling still when she thought she saw a figure. "Someone is definitely up there." She muttered to anyone who could hear her. "Do...do you think it's him?"
  Word Count: 402 Post #5 Mentions: Phoenix, Euonia, Eliina Interacts With: Phoenix, Euonia |
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Post by kajeayn on Apr 5, 2021 14:46:53 GMT -6
= M O I R A =
The fire finds a home in me.
WC: 706 | Post 5
The night had strung her out, scraped her raw, like Azar’s sacred fireplaces cleaned out every morning- only to be lit anew. A fire had lit in her breast, blazing almost painfully, until she felt as if her lungs were bellows, and she might breathe flame if she only had the inclination to.
Perhaps, one day, she would ask Ignacio for His flame. Maybe He would even bestow it upon her.
Tonight, her only fire was in her own hooves, but she planned to wield it to blaze a new path, to burn away the ash, rise again.
It all felt very noble and righteous, even as her shoulder made its protests to the march known immediately. Its complaints went ignored, as did all the other aches and pains of the night- a tired old body that had been through more than enough, thank you, and did not quite agree with her marching heart.
The sound of a familiar voice made that marching heart speed into double time, her head lifting in surprise as her ears flicked- turning towards a large hippocampus stallion as he approached, awkwardly pushing through the crowd.
“Nizar, you should be at home.” She admonished, but there was no heat, no ire in her voice or eyes- only a tired smile that lifted her lips. She could only imagine the reaction of his grandfather, when he found out about Nizar being here.
That would be quite the bridge to cross, when they got there.
“But I would not send you away,” She added, a little more gently. “And you can thank Sola for this.” She explained, flicking an ear towards her shoulder. “But I am well enough to march. I hope you’ll consider joining us.” She added, her eyes glowing as she glanced to him again.
The boy was young, and had as much potential as any she had met in her Sanctum- but it was so hidden away, buried like treasure under the sea, barely glimpsed beneath the churning waves of fear and indecision. From the moment she’d first met him, she’d wanted to find that diamond in the rough, coax it out of hiding and into the light.
She glanced briefly at Caron, eyes twinkling.
Maybe tonight would bring more than one person into the light.
“But I will not force you, as happy as I am to see you.” She said with a small smile, lifting her head slightly and glancing back into the crowd, searching briefly for Callerya. She hoped the mare had turned and gone home, as the idea of her here in this march was enough to give Moira a heart attack, but she had little doubt Callerya remained.
Two attendants, so different, but she cared dearly for them both.
Ignacio protect them both.
“I would appreciate that, thank you.” She murmured when he offered his shoulder, stepping near him to lean against the large boy- she might have refused the support from other attendants, but Nizar was plenty big enough to hold her up. She wasn’t quite prideful enough to admit she could use the help, either- her old bones would thank her for it later, she was sure.
Her ears swivelled, catching the sound of distant fluttering- a bit like a swarm of bats, but as she turned towards it, she caught glimpses of bright colors, the glint of jeweled collars.
“What on earth…?” She murmured, low enough for only Nizar to hear her, her head tilting slightly as she looked up towards the gathering pygmies.
Their song washed over her, rising and flowing like a current, and it was as beautiful as it was unnerving- the pygmies did not seem to be aware of themselves, their eyes closed in adoration, heads swinging in time, like they were all puppets wielded by the same strings.
How very strange.
“I am afraid I don’t know,” She replied softly to Phoenix’s question. Who was She, indeed? “Pygmies are Ignacio’s, and He is not often referred to as She.” She explained. “Though I suppose it’s possible…”
“No, it’s not Ignacio.” The voice of the Cardea head made Moira glance once at her. The kirin was staring up at the dragons, her eyes hard, unblinking. “It’s someone else.”
INTERACTING: Nizar, Phoenix. Mentions Rosalba, Callerya, and Caron!
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Post by kajeayn on Apr 5, 2021 14:49:01 GMT -6
R O S A L B A
post 5| wc 495
She wasn’t quite sure how to feel, really.
Conflicting emotions rose in her like a pack of wolves, all snapping for her throat, clawing at each other for her blood. She didn’t want to listen to any of them- the shock, the rage, the fear.
The sheer, overwhelming pride.
She wanted to pick Sereya up like she was but a filly and drag her home herself, but she was right- and moreover, she had never stood up to Rosalba before. Never once, in all her years- in all their fights, their cold silences. Sereya did not disobey, at least not to her face, but this- the high lift of her chin, the steel in her gaze, was new, and Rosalba was loath to make it go away again.
Regardless of her conflicting feelings about it all, they continued to march, Rosalba forcing the churning emotions down to be dealt with later.
There was too much at hand to deal with now- from the strange, swarming song, to the fact the Palace was beginning to loom ahead of them.
The whispers and questions about She made her coat prickle, just a little- a bit of interest, a bit of something else.
She was no expert on this subject, but she had heard the rumors, from her slaves and from who they spoke to- there was, supposedly, an Ungod, worshipped by cultists. The cultists she believed in- real horses out there, doing unspeakable things in the name of a god? It happened every day.
But as for the Ungod herself, Rosalba had not put much stock into it. The very idea of it was ludicrous, to her- there were the old gods, and that was that. Gods did not appear out of thin air.
But Ignacio’s answer about the sky, and the unnatural, strange song of the dragons, gave her pause.
She’d looked into it after the building that had appeared last year. Plenty of her slaves had come from the wilds, and she spoke with them- they knew more than she could have guessed.
Perhaps she should have believed them.
“I can’t say who,” She admitted after a pause. “But there are… rumors, Your Holinesses, that perhaps you should look into. But for now…” Her eyes slid away from the dragons, staring straight ahead.
The end of their march dead ahead, and she felt her heart pick up its pace, eyes flicking up to the royal balcony- and there he was.
Her lip curled before she could stop herself, fangs peeking out as she stared up towards the balcony before her eyes moved back to the crowd.
It would take a few minutes for the crowd to finish pouring into the plaza, to pile at the Palace steps- and she half hoped the King would say something. She’d love to hear his final words before she broke down the door with her own hooves.
“Surely you’re not afraid of your own people?” She called, stepping forward.
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Apr 5, 2021 15:30:25 GMT -6
 Art by: coffie-buzz
Phoenix Aodh - Servile Slave They continued, the pygmies soaring as a cloud above them, ultimately leading them towards the palace. It was with a cold recognition that Phoenix realized exactly where they were. How many months has it been now, when she had last stood here listening to the Kings Speech? Several months, she figured. She recalled how terrified she was, and not just for the labor slaves. A little over a year before that, she had been taken from the estate, taken from Iscah, and forced into the life of a labor slave like so many pit fighters and serviles like her. She didn't think she would ever see Iscah again, and she didn't think she would survive. It was during that time in the Dark District she grew to appreciate Labor Slaves and their plight. So when a month later when Isador allowed slave buybacks, she was only to happy to return to Iscah.
So when Isador removed the protections of Labor Slaves, the force that already suffered from every day deaths due to overworking, lack of nutrition, or mortal accidents, Phoenix remembered how her veins turned her ice. The more slaves that died, the more likely she would once again be taken from Iscah's warm home, and she was certain she wouldn't be lucky enough to survive a second time.
She shuddered, paused ever so slightly, before forcing herself forwards once more. It wouldn't come to that. All of that would end tonight; she trusted Aleksei to do well by her kind. She no longer had Iscah, but she had Eliina, and she would cling to her just as she clung to her previous owners. She was determined to do House Xoias proud.
Others, like Adelaide, seemed curious about the 'She' within the lyrics of the eerie song, the song that would fade in and out of recognition depending on her focus on it. Euonia responded, seemingly insistent that 'She' was simply Ignacio. Phoenix herself had never referred to her God as a female, but she knew that Gods could do as they wished, and that others likely thought of him as a Goddess instead. It made sense, and she nodded softly, feeling less anxious for a moment. Moira wasn't too sure herself, offering the possibility, but a familiar, stern voice had her own opinions on the matter that pricked Phoenix's skin with anxiety once more.
Rumors. Another God? Rosalba didn't outright say Alya, Cascade or Kaia so the Goddesses seemed out of the question. Regardless, the very idea of another, unknown Goddess seemed...unnerving.
The group finally halted, and Phoenix listened to Euonia's booming voice. The pegasus slave felt oh so small, and not just physically, next to Euonia. She stood up tall, a stoic expression on her still sooty visage. Her eyes narrowed as she spied a figure high up in the palace. She couldn't tell exactly if it was Isador, but who else could it be?
"Has to be," She replied to Angelique, folding her ears back as she heard Adelaide utter the word 'coward'. "He is nothing but a coward." Phoenix echoed the young eminent, an ear twitching in Rosalba's direction when the Cardea head spoke up.
Fire flared around Phoenix's fore-hooves in candle-like wisps, rage bubbling her blood. Her ears flicked forwards and she arched her neck. She hardly had the presence of Euonia, Moira, or Rosalba, but she was no longer afraid of this false king. She had helped slay his unfortunate wyvern.
He would know and remember her. A Wyvern killing slave.
"Face us, False King!"  |
POST COUNT: 9 ♦ WORD COUNT: 591
MENTIONS: Eliina, Adelaide, Euonia, Moira, Rosalba, Angelique
INTERACTIONS: Angelique, the mob can hear her last yell
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Post by ThatDenver on Apr 5, 2021 15:37:15 GMT -6
ISADOR
Briefly, Isador glanced through the windows. He could barely hear the crowd – but he could tell that they were unhappy.
What else was new? The commons could never see past their own noses.
And he was not afraid of them; no more now than he had been months ago when he first sensed their displeasure.
Let them come. Let them break themselves upon the majesty of Aodh’s Crown.
Isador pushed open the glass doors, and watched beyond the crowd, to the golden and red horizon; the ancient crown of Aodh glittering upon his brow.
Then, he turned to face the room. Even from this distance, you can hear a loud crash, like wood breaking – and then the sounds of fighting, blades clanging. Like mufflers have been taken away.
You hear Isador’s voice, but he is not speaking to you. The words, you can not decipher.
And then, he vanishes, like a shadow.
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Post by kerarose on Apr 5, 2021 18:57:34 GMT -6
INDRINA From ashes to glory
[picture upcoming] Post 7 | WC: 300
IW: Crowd
Mentions: Euonia, Isador Her legs ached, her body and mind tired with her never having slept this night, but Indrina carried on, her heart soaring. This was actually happening- they were going to rid the world of Isador. She listened to the dragons' songs, listening to the murmuring over this mysterious "She," but she left it behind.
There were more important things to accomplish now.
She marched, walking alongside Euonia as the crowd grew fiercer with every soul that joined. A melody was playing in her head, an old nursery song that spoke of the valiant kirins' fight against Alya and her pegasi. It spoke of Alya's cruelty, of how she had been spotted in the last hours of the Gods' War before the kirins were crushed.
She was never a writer of music- others in her House did far better- but she could always parody a tune.
As the crowd settled in the plaza, looking up to see Isador on the balcony, she heard their hateful cries, the screams at what the False King had done. She let that hatred burn in her belly, then light a fire behind her eyes.
During a lull in the jeering cries, she lifted her voice skywards, letting her sonorous mezzo carry the tune across the plaza.
Behold, and lo, a False King sits
Upon a stolen throne,
The blood of innocents he's slain
Has stained his once-white coat.
His speech is silvered lies,
His eyes reflect the night,
The lion comes this very night
To tear out the wyvern's throat.
She took a breath, letting the echo of her song clear, before piping in again, repeating the commonly-known melody, with her words added.
Do you hear us sing, Isador? she thought, her smirk growing ever more prevalent. We're singing your final hours. Be afraid, coward.
Feel free to join in! Your character probably knows this melody. 
E L I I N A
POST 7 | WC: 258
IW: Crowd | Mentions: Euonia, Phoenix, Moira
The journey took hours, and yet it felt like only minutes. Eliina followed her cousin and Euonia, practically glued to Phoenix's side. The young pegasus was a comfort to Eliina- she was scared of what tomorrow may bring, once her actions in Azar were found out. If she lost the Envoy position- she couldn't even finish that thought.
She had to remain Envoy to War Forged.
So she did as she was told- she marched, she cried out in anger at the appropriate times. She encouraged others to join the crowd. She listened to the other equines involved.
She shut her mouth when the speculation over "She" came up, especially once Moira began to comment. She would not interact with her more than necessary, to prevent herself from being spotted again.
But when Indrina began to sing, she knew that she had to join in.
Her voice was not Indrina's mezzo- no, it was a rich, melodious alto. She listened once to her cousin, memorizing the words as they came, before joining in a third below. She let all of her hate for the Blood-Soaked King rise in her, fueling her voice as it joined in to carry over the angry crowd.
Behold, and lo, a False King sits
Upon a stolen throne,
The blood of innocents he's slain
Has stained his once-white coat.
His speech is silvered lies,
His eyes reflect the night,
The lion comes this very night
To tear out the wyvern's throat.
Let them hear. She was done letting this piece of shit rule.
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Post by Coffie-Buzz on Apr 5, 2021 21:24:23 GMT -6
As the group walked, Delta was hyper attentive. Every sound and shift in the corners of her vision she cataloged and identified. The Chevaliers that were not part of their little march did nothing to stop them or impede their passage. Honestly, Delta was a little disappointed. She thought Aodhians had more fight than that. One dead dragon and an organized mop and they just let them go. Killing a dragon was a crime, she was sure. The soldiers should have taken prisoners for that, at least. But no, here they all were, actively opposing the Crown and they just watched.
Delta glanced above a rooftop, the tiny shadow of Jeremy, her bat, drawing her gaze for not but a moment. Singing was heard as a flock of pygmy dragons swooped overhead. Delta saw some among the swarm that she recognised, but the dragons were not what made her curious. Since her arrival in the City, she had become familiar with the language the small dragons used and it most definitely sounded nothing like the words they were singing. To her knowledge, Pygmy dragons couldn’t speak the common tongue… So how was this possible? She wanted to ask, but decided that it wasn't as important. The small creatures probably wouldn't answer her anyway.
Her ear flicked to voices behind her, questions of who the "She" was. Delta had a very good idea of who the dragons meant, "There is a more than fair chance they sing of Digend. A False Goddess supposedly resurrected by a Cult. I've faced them once. They killed in her name and I lost my leg to one of their traps. Advisor Rosalba is correct to suggest investigation, but I must urge you to be very careful with the extent. False or not, Digend is called the Chaos God for a reason." She said, voice reaching the ones behind her. The edge on her voice as she spoke was hateful. Delta had a healthy grudge against the Cult and the Goddess they followed.
The silver mare was more than a little suspicious when the guard at the palace gate opened the damn thing and let them through. Something was wrong. She sent a sharp, short whistle to Jeremy. An order practiced many times over, telling the bat to relay any words he heard that were not from those in Delta's company. Delta smirked darkly at Euonia's words to Isador. Oh, she liked that Flamen.
The mare nearly barked laughter when Isador opened the damn doors to the balcony… Her wolfish smile vanished when the crown entered her view. She had seen a drawing of Solaris wearing that same one and it made her all the more angry. Images of Isador using an Onean ax to kill the furia brought her fire into her mouth, the roll of flames in her chest heard as an angry rumble. Delta felt little for Hira anymore, but she would be stupid to think that the death of the Golden King hadn't been the first fateful crack to the former War Lord's armor. A crack that Isador had dealt with Solaris' assassination. That wretch was partly responsible for weakening a once powerful leader. The theft of Hira's children was just the finishing blow. She was angry, but on Hira's behalf, this time.
Her nose wrinkled into a snarl, bearing teeth and pinning her ears to her skull. Fire tore up from her chest and belly in scarlet red ribbons, a few flames streaming from her mouth,
"If Anima was tall enough here, I'd be on that balcony and ripping that crown off his head," she growled, voice distorted by the gentle rumble of flames, "He has no right to it."
The mare watched as Jeremy landed on the underside of the balcony, well within listening range, but also out of harm's way. Delta's fire calmed, if only a little, and she turned to Euonia, "I have an ear on the balcony, your Grace. I can tell you what they are saying, but I'd need to be closer to hear him." she explained, with an unasked request for permission to play as a messenger.
As she waited for the Flamine's word, some Unicorn started singing. She searched the crowd and pinned the voice on a Noble that seemed familiar with Envoy Eliina. But then she started singing, too. Delta was deeply confused. Why the fuck were they singing? What would singing a cute little rhyme accomplish?
Shaking her head in confusion, Delta turned to the balcony doors, only to see Isador vanish. Sirens sounded in her head. Quickly she turned around, "What are that bastard's Blessings?," she asked anyone that knew, a plan trying to form in her head, "Was that Invisibility or Shadow Manipulation!?"
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Post by misttheelf on Apr 5, 2021 21:30:24 GMT -6
Caron "Now the Fire and Wind guide me to Freedom."
Post 6 | WC 294 Caron could not help but have a slight smile in return to Moira, standing near the Flamen as Chevaliers and Eminents joined the call to arms, the call to march, as another sanctum attendant went to Moira's side.
The march began, Chiya trilling to rally spirits higher, as Caron stepped forward, walking a bit behind Moira. Their head was not held high, but not low either.
The swarm of pygmy dragons was a sight, Caron's gaze catching and following the creatures - They were a lovely sight, and… their song was… intriguing to say the least. And they flew in the same direction as their march.
Caron let their electricity crackle at their hooves. Long standing, letting those sparks had been their way of expressing themselves - here, the crackle was their resolve.
They arrived at the courtyard of the palace. They found it strange, as they took a few steps up closer to Moira, to be there not as a slave… but something else.
Euonia shouted at the balcony, accompanied by the shouts of others, a shadow present until it walks away.
They glanced around the crowd, uneasy from the sheer number and closeness of others, letting light blue teke trace the dagger attached to their bags, feeling the relics power for a moment of comfort, accompanied by a trill from Chiya, as they look to Rosalba, but… silent they remained. It was clear the Eminent wasn't going to elaborate at the moment on what she had meant.
They took a breath, looking to Moira, and Euonia, given how the two Flamen's had lead the march. "...What now?" They spoke softly "What's… going on up there?" They asked.
They did not like not knowing what was going on, up on the balcony, other than fighting.
OOC: Caron's mostly talking to Moira + Eunoia, but anyone near them can answer! |
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Post by seawitchgrandpa on Apr 5, 2021 22:10:55 GMT -6
Nizar Aodh | Sanctum Attendant, Azar
TL;DR: young man almost works himself into a panic attack Mentions: Delta, Caron, Moira, Euonia, Eliina and Indrina but most of those not by name, man, he don't know anybody here Interacts with: Moira, Delta, Caron, Rosalba, look if you're close to the Flamens you probably in the right vicinity
Something was happening. Isador had appeared, then disappeared like a drop of ink in water. “ He’s gone!” He blurted on instinct. Nizar’s heart lurched in a secondhand squeeze of anxiety for fear of what might be about to happen. The king’s wyvern was dead. Conspirators had plotted his downfall tonight. History was being made on that balcony and though Nizar had little care for politics, he had great care for the idea that a life might be taken this morning, and they could easily witness it in the moments to come. He and this crowd could be at the footsteps of regicide and suddenly, Nizar felt very afraid. He was no great lover of Isador; but the idea that today they might witness the end of a life—perhaps a brutal and bloody end to be sung euphemistically in years to come—made him suddenly ill and wane. Worse yet: what if those who conspired against him failed? Isador had no dragon anymore, but Nizar had no doubts Isador could make his conspirators burn nonetheless. Flamen Euonia, who had always made him feel brave just being around her, had called for Isador to face them. He had gathered enough from moving with this crowd to know she was facing execution if this went wrong. There were others here, around him, speaking, who could, who would, be put to the flame. A fear washed over him, a fear so overwhelming it made his eyes water and his lips and hooves go numb and his breath stutter in his chest against Moira’s side. They could be moments away from disaster; they were moments away from death, no matter what happened. Would he have to choose life or death this morning, choose to be executed with those he had come to call friends, or watch them burn with his eyes turned down out of shame, to live another day? And then someone started singing. The sound, to its credit, was so jarringly out of place that it wrenched Nizar out of his pooling panic and threw him straight over the cliff of bewilderment. Someone’s corpse, Isador’s or not, could come falling over this balcony and they were pulling out nursery songs? “Is this. I. Uhm. Hm. I’m not… great at. Reading crowds but. Is this appropriate right now?” He muttered helplessly under his breath, voice cracking but mostly lost in the crowd, eyes flicking between Eliina, Indrina, and the balcony. One of the slaves that Nizar had thought quite frightening, Delta, thought he did not know her name, with flames rolling out of her mouth like a simmering volcano, asked what Isador’s blessings were with clear intent for battle plans (why was a slave making battle plans, he wondered in idle distraction) and it became all the more obvious the sword was crashing down and about to cleave their fate for them. The slave mentioned a Chaos God, a Digend, and something like nausea rolled up Nizar’s spine at the thought. He wasn’t exactly religious, contrary to what his job as a sanctum attendant might imply, but the idea of a god who condoned killing in her name made something in him appalled and frightened. Perhaps he could learn more of this god, prepare himself and learn his enemies, and grandfather would say, but a different fear took precedent right now. Should they enter the palace, try to surround any exits? What good would that do against a man who could disappear like smoke? He fought against his fear to try to speak, to offer ideas, to offer help, but fear still strangled his voice too tightly. Caron, thought Nizar did not know their name, spoke aloud, and it gave Nizar just enough impetus to push past the invisible hand clutching his voice. Amidst other voices louder than his, bolder than his, stronger than his, he managed, “Should... should we help them?” with the rising tone of an unspoken, We need to help them.
WC: 661 Post: #3 |
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Apr 5, 2021 22:47:48 GMT -6
Art by: coffie-buzz
Phoenix Aodh - Servile Slave The figure far above glances back at them, the face now obvious to be that of Isador. His lips move, she could almost hear his voice. But then he is gone in a flicker of shadows. She can hear a crash, the metallic clang of swords. The fight sounds oh so close, and Phoenix is sure Isador either fled, or joined in the fight. Up there, there were horses whom she had come to call friends, allies. There were those she had yet to meet who had jumped into the fray, but were important to her all the same. With each clash of a blade, her heart sped up more and more. Her legs move, twitch, ache from use and ache further to be used. She knew how important she was down here, but she longed to be among those of whom she fought alongside earlier that night.
Delta speaks about a Goddess called Digend. Somehow, the name sends a shiver down Phoenix's spine. It wasn't something she dared dwell on or think about while they were in the midst of a rebellion.
A voice alights in the dawning light, somewhat familiar. Amber eyes turn and shift, catching sight of the unicorn from House Xoias [Indrina]. The pegasus appeared confused at the lyrics mingled with what should be a children's song, but the words fit far too perfectly. Had the turquois unicorn thought of that so quickly? The hippocampus [Nizar] who had joined them with concern for the Flamen of Azar seemed on the precipice of an anxiety attack, but the song, which had by now been joined by Eliina at her side, seemed distracted by the strange choice in music.
"Songs are our history." Phoenix replied, her voice stiff. "Songs draw out emotion. Even to the tune of something so memorable as a child's rhyme...well, so too will this version be remembered. Screams and shouts can easily fall upon deaf ears, especially by a murderer like Isador. But music? No...even the most stoic of warrior can fall prey to a simple melody. Ears will want to listen, just as we have listened to the pygmies Dragonsong. Let him hear us." She nodded in approval to Indrina.
Her heart drummed in her chest, far too fast to match any kind of tune. She glanced to her singing Mistress, then to her other side to Euonia. The small pegasus stepped forward, then turned to the crowd.
"I'm going to see what's going on." Her eyes quickly shifted to Eliina, "I'm not going in, I promise. But I need to see what is happening." Her gaze was pleading, worried. She took in a shaky breath, spreading her wings. They ached dully, fatigue still clinging to her muscles. Just a little longer. Please.
"Those of you who can, fly with me. Maybe we can make a bigger impression together."
She beat her wings hard, harder than she normally would have in order to get up into the air. Her face looked strained but determined, and she reached the edge of the balcony in short time. Holding herself aloft with rapid wingbeats, she peered into the room. Those down below might recognize those wings of hers from earlier that night when she fought Sola. She could see the busted down door across the room and the dead body that had obviously crashed into it somehow. Through the doorway she could see flickers of color, flashes of lightning and the swinging of blades.
When Indrina and Eliina started singing once more, Phoenix sung along, hoping her proximity to the building would allow those within to hear the song and thus the reinforcements outside.
"Behold, and lo, a False King sits, Upon a stolen throne..." |
POST COUNT: 10 ♦ WORD COUNT: 619
MENTIONS: Delta, Indrina, Nizar, Moira, Eliina, Euonia
INTERACTIONS: Nizar, Indrina, Euonia, Eliina, the crowd at large
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Post by houndflash on Apr 6, 2021 14:43:21 GMT -6
Tate|Aodh|Smuggler
Everything started moving swiftly after Ignacio left. The entire crowd decided to march upon Isador's doorstep to end the fake tyrant's reign. Even those that Tate would have thought would have no qualm with Isador's rule were joining in on the march. Tate followed along, stirring up and assisting with the crowd anyway he could along the way. The smuggler kept a close eye on Shay and Eleanor to ensure that they stayed close to one another, as if things went south fast, Tate would need to lead them, and anyone else he could, to safety as soon as possible. He highly doubted he would need to do that, with how everything had been going, but it never hurt to be cautious. Tate felt amazement as the crowd was just allowed to enter the area of the Royal balcony, with no real opposition, as the pygmies flew over head, squacking in their own language and following the crowd along their path to redeem the royal line. The king was present on the balcony for a moment before being drawn away by something up above. What that something was was beyond Tate's control, but joined in loudly when the crowd started up with song of revolution.
Post #3 Word Count 200
Cin'ciri|Aodh|Gentry
To say that a child wouldn't understand anything going on would be an understatement. Shortly after Iggdad left, Mama had picked Cin'ciri up, placed him in one of her bags, gave him a firm "stay there", and started walking around and healing everyone, like Mama did. That was her job as a doctor, and why she was the bestest doctor around. And while normally Cin would've jumped right back out and started playing around with others in the crowd, or watching and pretending to sing along with the pymgy dragons, Mama's tone was that of the worst punishment his small child mind could ever imagine. And Cin wouldn't be able to handle not being able to have apple pancakes while Pel and Mop child got them. It would be HORRIBLE. So Cin, for once did what he was told as Mama made a trek down with the rest of the crowd to whatever party everyone was going to next. Everyone seemed so excited and even some chevaliers had joined along with the fun. Eventually when they made it up to the palace, Cin was sure that they had to be going to one of those adult things that Mama always said he'd "understand when he's older". He was going to tell so many stories to Pel and Mop child, they'd be so jealous!
Cin was snapped out of his thoughts at all the excitement started. "What's happening, Mama? Why is there singing now and are we gonna inside the palace?"
Post #4 Word Count 250 |
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Post by moonlightwalk on Apr 6, 2021 14:52:01 GMT -6
Leonora | Peacemaker
Leonora had know had been coming, it had been in the air, coming on the winds ever since she slipped out of that bar many nights ago. She knew it had and yet, she had been utterly been unprepared for the chaos when it arrived. It started with screams, ungodly tearing through the silence of the night. It had had the peacemaker stumbling out of bed and onto the streets like many others, equines of all kinds gaping at the sky. Fear, astonishment, confusion, ... These emotions raged inside and around here like the storm above their heads. Creatures of fire, of air danced in the sky clashing once and once again and then nothing.
The silence that eventually fell felt... unreal. Horses hurried through the street, to family, to property, to friends. Leonora stumbled amidst it all, not sure where she was going, what she was going to do. She was reminded of the war at home, not knowing which way to turn, what to do to help, only then she had been at home, with the people she loved. Now she was alone in a country most unfamiliar to her still, streets she had only just begun to get accustomed to. The memory at the back of her mind had her moving without real purpose. The eeriness of the situation had her heart beating fast. For a moment she took note of the storm being silent even though it seemed Ignacio raged against Alya within it, but then the thought had passed in favor of coming to a standstill in shock.
As she rounds the corner she comes eye to eye with a walking nightmare, a god, though different than what she remembered, was unmistakable nonetheless. The deity of these people, the sun that scorched her land, the fire that burned it down. Ignacio. She only heard what must have been a few last words, words she barely grasped, of mornings, of destiny, before he disappeared, sending a wave of emotion to roll gently over the crowd. Leonora shivered, feeling repulsed. Such a monster would not be able to love so gently, to her it could be nothing but deceit. What path did he want to lead these equines on while telling them it was their own?
More words, more claims, of kings and rebellion and Leonora took a few steps back, unsure what to do. Her ears had perked when the name of her herd fell of an Aodhian's lips, letting it all sink in. Murders, mystery, those for and those against peace brokered. Whatever the case she had to be careful because there was no telling how this would end, but surely it was her duty as peacemaker to keep on top of how this would unfold. It was... unnerving, a word that had crossed her mind many times that night. To be amidst such serious business and yet was a bystander in it. It didn't feel right, but what else could she do? It seemed she had yet much more to learn and would do so in the future when it came to the complicated affairs of this complicated herd.
People high and low, warrior and not are marching the street and Leonora slinks behind them quietly, feathers dusting the ground. She tries to keep a distance, but not so much that she misses the general trend. As words start to come together she realises they're actually going for the king. She doesn't quite belief these things are settled by vote.
The palace is in front of them, Leonora lingers, unsure again. Then an song filled the streets, Leonora, once again shocked realising it are the tiny dragons that Aodh housed that were the source of the unsettling tune. Leonora frowned, unsure what to make for it and as the creatures move towards the palace, she moves behind quietly once again. The king stood before them, disappeared again, the crowd sung an melody equally strange to her ear as the song of the dragons. She wondered what was going on, a struggle of sorts, murmurs telling her others were wondering the same. With a few beats of her wing, she rose, keeping her distance but hoping to catch a glimpse from afar. She only saw fighting.
Post 1 | 710 words
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Post by ThatDenver on Apr 6, 2021 15:45:48 GMT -6
CHECKPOINT
CW: Death
The fight inside seems to continue. You hear someone yell “For Aodh”, even above the singing of your own group. Only those in the air can properly make out the scenes unfolding beyond the open balcony doors – how slave and commoner and noble alike boldly clash with Isador’s royal guard, and how they slowly gain the upper hand, although blood is certainly spilled on both sides – but everyone can see the zaps of color, the reflections in the windows.
Then, suddenly, Isador is pushed into the balcony by a large kirin. Although the King quickly regains his feet, you can see that he is wounded – bruised and bleeding. His crown and blade gone, fallen off somewhere in the fighting inside.
He does not look at you, but you can tell he hears you.
You can tell the moment he realizes he is alone – that he has indeed lost.
That even if he kills every single rebel inside his halls, there is a crowd of thousands waiting for him outside, with no wyvern there to disperse them.
Aleksei enters the balcony then, and even from down below, you can see his wings – and the terrible blue glow of his eyes. The balcony seems to break apart before your very eyes, twisting and turning as Isador is held in place by the force of Aleksei’s blessing – Solaris’ blessing.
Some of you have seen this before. The rage of Reality Manipulation unleashed.
There is a spatter of blood, and Isador falls, falls, falls – and vanishes, if only briefly, before thudding to the ground with considerably less force than expected from such a height.
Still, it seems his blessing can not save him now.
The King does not speak.
There are no final words, no apologies, no pleas.
Only silence, and the rising of the sun.
”It is over” a voice in your ears says. Aleksei’s voice.
”The King is dead.”
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Post by Prismaticlysm on Apr 6, 2021 16:21:07 GMT -6
Art by: coffie-buzz
Phoenix Aodh - Servile Slave Phoenix didn't know if any other pegasus decided to join her up in the air, but she was too distracted by what going inside the palace to truly care what was going on behind her and down below. Even her song faded, her eyes wide as she watched her companions battle within. She could hear voices call 'For Aodh', one after another, a small shred of relief fueling her when one of them seemed much too young to be in there fighting. The slave absorbed what she was seeing, until she suddenly needed to back away from the balcony. A red and white kirin charged through the smashed doorway, barreling into Isador as the two of them tumbled her direction. She gave one hefty, if not painful, flap backwards which sent her a good twenty or so feet away. She had no clue who this kirin was, but since he was fighting Isador, that made him an ally.
From this close, Phoenix could see Aleksei's glowing eyes, and maybe even more astonishingly so, his new wings. She gaped at the stallion as the world around him seemed to crack and bend, the same blessing he had used to help them all get out of the Goldhead earlier that night. But the strange, terrifying blessing did not end there. The balcony itself gives way, and Isador falls, a splash of blood flying from a wound on this throat. His form flickers, fading from sight, but he is too soon dead before he falls before the crowd below. The slaves expression is grim, but relieved.
Amber eyes rise to stare at Aleksei as he said "It is over." And somehow, even this far away, it's as if his voice is in her ears. "The King is dead." Somewhere behind her, soaring above the city, Lucius' lets out a victorious roar.
Somehow, Phoenix doesn't feel cheerful.
There was a ton of buildup to this evening, insane fights that almost took her life and her companions. But now that the bloody deed was done, she just wanted to forget about it. She didn't want to celebrate over the death of the False King, only wanted his existence to fade just like his life had. Slowly, if not awkwardly, the pegasus descended. She landed some twenty-five feet away from Isador's body, turning her head away from the site to look at Euonia in particular.
"It's over," She echoed Aleksei's proclamation, "He is dead." |
POST COUNT: 11 ♦ WORD COUNT: 408
MENTIONS: Euonia
INTERACTIONS: The crowd at large
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Post by kajeayn on Apr 6, 2021 20:15:16 GMT -6
= M O I R A =
The fire finds a home in me.
WC: 495 | Post 6The King stood high above them, far enough away that she could barely catch a glimpse of what was going on- enough to know that, as ever, he was ignoring them all.
The thought rankled her, but she was distracted from her thoughts by the nearly vibrating Nizar beside her- anxiety rolled through him so visibly that she could not stop herself from stretching out to gently touch her muzzle to his neck.
The distraction that came for him was unexpected, but she appreciated the thought behind it, at least.
Behind Nizar, though, she could clearly see the Cardea head staring at the singing eminents in disbelief.
Moira’s lips twitched, fighting something like a smile despite the gravity of the situation, weighing on her so heavily it seemed as if Kaia walked among them, drawing them incessantly down to Her earth.
“Perhaps not,” She said softly, just near Nizar’s ear. “But, it makes them feel better.”
And they could all use the levity, even if it was only for a moment. She didn’t know how long they planned to sing- she had already mostly tuned it out, attention too focused on attempting to see what was happening on the balcony.
She glanced once at Caron as they addressed her, inclining her head slightly towards them.
“I don’t know,” She admitted quietly. “He is not alone up there, however. We must see how this plays out- interrupting may be as much of a hindrance as an aid, right now.” She said, her ears tilting back at the very idea of attempting to help- only to distract one of the rebels at a precious moment.
She kept her gaze up on the balcony, listening to the muffled sounds of fighting, screams and clangs of metal, the sounds burning inside her ears before a golden figure stepped into view.
For just a moment, her vision seemed to warp- her eyes blurred, and she blinked hard as the balcony seemed to turn inside out, lifting her head in surprise- for a moment there, her old eyes seemed to finally fail.
She could have sworn she had seen Solaris standing on that ledge.
Stunned, she could only watch Isador be backed to the railing, even as a voice inside screamed- and then was silenced as Isador fell.
Her teke glowed, reaching out to catch Nizar’s head and turn it into her neck, pressing his face into her mane. She didn’t know if she had saved him any of it, didn’t know how much he had seen- her own eyes were wide open, staring at the fallen body where it lay. Soundlessly replaying the sight of his cut throat, his limp body falling.
She hadn’t heard the impact, lost in the song. It made it all the more eerie.
Her eyes squeezed shut, turning her face away in silence.
A king, a man, a fellow Aodhian, dead on the pavement.
And above them all, the sun rose on a new day.
INTERACTING: Nizar, Caron, mentions Rosalba and Aleksei
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Post by kajeayn on Apr 6, 2021 20:18:00 GMT -6
R O S A L B A
post 6 | wc 351
They were singing.
Of all things, with the bloody King close enough to shoot, Indrina decided to lead them through a children’s song.
It took all her self control not to roll her eyes, her lips tightly sealed as she turned her head, gazing disapprovingly over the crowd- this was not what they had marched for, was it? To stand under his balcony, crooning like a love sick teenager?
The saccharine display faded to the back of her mind as she lifted her head, catching Isador’s face, and she saw it- the moment he realized.
You are alone. She thought in dark satisfaction, feeling it bloom through her like ink in water. You always were.
Shock rolled over her, and she reeled back as if struck, staring in stunned silence as a figure stepped onto the balcony- with eyes that glowed blue, reality bowing under their gaze, with golden wings that spread under the dawning sky.
Solaris?
But no, it was him- the king’s golden child. Striking down her murderer with all the righteous fury in the world, and in that moment, Rosalba felt something fall away.
A weight lifted as Isador fell. She sucked in a sudden breath, like she’d just surfaced from drowning- and hated the sudden burning in her throat she viciously shoved down.
It was over.
Just like that, in an unmoving body, so very small and quiet without his crown, his wyvern, his words.
Nothing remained.
Nothing at all.
Aleksei’s voice in her ear made her twitch, glancing sharply to the side, but he was still on the balcony- she flicked her gaze up towards him, raising her head towards the sky as light bled slowly over the rooftops.
Her thoughts flew to Edenne, to Runt, to everyone inside- had they all made it? Her chest ached, desperate to know, may have stomped up the palace steps if Sereya had not been behind her- but for now, for now she could close her eyes and savor a battle hard won.
Rosalie could rest a little easier.
As the sun rose over a new Aodh, Rosalba smiled.
INTERACTING: Just mentions, mentions Indrina, Aleksei, Edenne, Sereya, and Runt. |
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Post by Coffie-Buzz on Apr 6, 2021 21:48:09 GMT -6
Everyone seemed to focused on the balcony to answer the question she had asked, concerning Isador's blessings. She could understand why, this was probably the most action the Aodhians had seen outside of the Crucible. Which, if Delta was being honest, wasn't as action-packed as half of the raids War Forged launched. And a challenge was met honorably, between two individuals. There were no crowds or small army's involved. Just an individual against another. If you were strong enough to make a challenge without aid and stronger still to win it, then you were worthy to lead. At least, that's how a War Lord was decided. Apparently the trend here seemed to revolve around killing your predecessor.
Delta overheard Phoenix explaining the reason for the singing to someone else and the dappled mare had to hold in a snort, "Might as well just tell him to face the music." She joked, but mostly to herself. She was uneasy when the colorful slave decided to fly up to the balcony to get a better view.
Her attention was caught by a shout from the open glass doors. She watched as Isador was thrown onto his side by a large Kirin. The mare barked a short burst of laughter, her grin turning a bit darker when she saw a Hybrid stand before the traitor prone on the balcony. That must be Aleksei, then. He certainly looked like a King, but also looked much younger than Delta had thought. Now she was sceptical. Young rulers were too young, in her mind. This stallion looked younger than HER.
She didn't see who the others saw when reality warped around the two stallions. She was too busy watching Isador plummet to the ground. Her eyes tracked the fall and she didn't even so much as blink when the body hit the ground. She was… disappointed. All of this murdering and blackmail and THAT is how he dies? She'd be lying if she said she hadn't been expecting something a bit more dramatic and… well, more.
Her ears picked up the voice of the Hybrid above the courtyard. He claimed the King was dead. Delta took only two steps towards the body, eyes never leaving it. She smirked, "I don't believe I understand, your highness," she commented, finally turning her eyed upwards, meeting the ones of Aleksei as best as she could from the distance, "The King looks perfectly fine to me…"
She doused the fire that had been cascading down her back, and gave the young golden stallion a genuine smile. Taking a deep breath, she spoke again, voice projected loud enough for even those in the back of the gathered mass to hear her. It was a voice trained to shout orders across the chaos of a battlefield and yet still be heard,
"HAIL TO THE KING!"
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Post by seawitchgrandpa on Apr 6, 2021 23:57:56 GMT -6
Nizar Aodh | Sanctum Attendant, Azar
TL;DR: hey if the king died in front of us would that be fucked up or what Mentions: Isador, Moira, Delta, Aleksei Interacts with: Moira
CW: describing a dead body
Nizar didn’t understand how this could be comforting, singing while there could be bloodshed happening, but Moira understood things in a way he did not at only two decades of life, and he took it on faith. After all, who better to know what could make people feel better than a Flamen. She had, many times, given him comfort when he thought there could be none. But realization and reassurance came as short-lived as a gnat’s lifespan in an eerie, surreal moment, Nizar watched two horses collide with the railing, and as he’d feared, as he knew deep in his gut before any of the horse’s colors and markings even registered, that it was Isador who fell. The King. And perhaps worse yet, Isador would not die from the impact, or swordpoint, of beheading. He died there, in front of them, his throat slit on accident, bleeding out on the stonework. Moira did her best to spare Nizar the terrible scene, but it was too late. He watched life leave Isador and before them was no longer a king, but a broken, empty corpse, equal now in death to the rest of them. Nizar had no love for Isador, knew he’d used an ancient creature to consume his enemies. And yet, as his legs went numb and his tongue tasted copper as suddenly he couldn’t feel anything, anything but a great, painful, sympathy. Not for Isador, the unrighteous king, usurper of thrones, bane of slaves. But for Isador, a man who had been a child once. Who’d felt and yearned as any of them, and had died painfully in front of them, choking on his blood. What a great traitor I am, Nizar thought to himself. Feeling pity for him. A voice proclaimed to them that it was over, the king was dead. Another voice gave the first hail to this new king. Nizar heard them in watery, unnatural tones, he pulled his eyes away from the respite of Moira’s soft hair to find someone who looked so much like Solaris that he could only assume they were of the royal family, but he did not recognize their voice. He didn’t recognize anything about them, remembering only Solaris and Alduin, the king and immediate heir, and only that there had been other siblings out of reach and out of touch to a commoner like him. He hadn’t recognized Isador, either, when he’d come to the crown years ago. Would this be another Isador? Would they be here again in the future, watching a bloodied corpse fall from a broken balcony in some gruesome metaphor? From the pegasus on the high balcony, his eyes fell again to corpse in front of them already in that strange, uncanny place just after death, when the features are the same but something has become strange and wrong and disturbing, when they have moved from the last flickering neurons and into the still repose of true finality. Here ended a cruel man’s legacy, as blood pooled on the stonework in a red so vivid it seemed unreal. He wondered, strangely, as if it were another voice in his head and not his own, if the songs they would sing of this moment, the stories told, if they would mention the bright red blood staining the marble. The look of a man’s eyes as the light left them. He wondered if this moment would even be mentioned at all, in years to come. What to do now? As a man’s body grew cold, as the Smoldering Sun rose and crowned a new king in rosy pink rays of dawn? “ The King is Dead,” he whispered numbly, parroting the words he’d heard at each king’s death, as the next stepped forward in an endless wheel. “ Long live the king.”
WC: 632 Post: #4 |
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Post by ThatDenver on Apr 7, 2021 1:52:48 GMT -6
"The King is dead! Long live the King!"
Voices join in on the chorus until it becomes a chant. Under the warm light of a rising summer sun, King Aleksei regards his people for the very first time. Framed between his new gold and blue wings, the young King looks at the sun, and closes his eyes.
It is done.
It is finally over.
"I'm afraid celebrations must wait a while longer", Aleksei's voice sounds, now without the strange effect of his relic. His voice sounds young, then, brimming with emotion - but also older than his years. Under Sol's rays, Aleksei does his best to channel Solaris.
To speak as she would have spoken.
"Many of my companions are wounded. Please, those among you gifted with healing - join us in the Palace. We could certainly use it", he says, before nodding and retreating from view.
It really was over.
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