Plot 203: The Earth Bears Witness

It had been a long night, but Lilith had spent only a precious few of its hours asleep. The previous evening had ushered new life into the world, life that was precious and small but undeniably disquieting, and even as she nuzzled against her baby’s peachfuzz mane, Lilith could not shuck her anxieties. How would this child be received, when Valore’s political climate was nothing more than romanticized brutality? A wool was pulled over the eyes of the common folk, but Lilith knew its apathy and its violence, knew well the example it could make of a young, vulnerable girl. The politicians reacted to change with feigned grace and a knife in the dark, and the mare was under no illusion that her bloodline offered immunity to their games. No, Lilith was no fool. She was afraid and full of wonder, but she was no fool.

The doors to her bedchamber creaked open, and Lilith swung her gaze to the intrusion, prickling. Her eyes met the burning blue of Ember, Adviser to the King, and the midwife that had served her faithfully only hours before. It was she who had orchestrated the Christening with unstoppable insistence and a passion that burned, rendering her fellow Advisers to insignificant bite-flies as she'd suggested, approved, and organized the unconventional event. For only Iscah, Lilith's eldest, had been graced with a formal Christening before now; the event was usually saved for direct heirs to the throne, a future Lilith had denied herself and her spawn with unapologetic choices. It was queer, and as Lilith peered into the severity of her gaze- indeed, the very depths of the abyss- she could not help but wonder if somehow, Ember knew.

“My Lady," Came the grave voice that betrayed nothing at all, "it is time."

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Inky hooves tapped a quiet, commanding melody as they traveled down the marble hallway, echoed by a dueting refrain. Ember did not look back over her shoulder as she walked, for she knew that she was followed, would have known even had she been unable to hear the clicking set of hooves, one heavy with fatigue, one light with youth, and both hesitant in wonder. No, Ember’s blazing blue gaze remained turned forward, as every fiber of her being blazed with the knowledge of what trailed in her wake. She felt it thrum with a burning thrill through her entire body, a sweeping rush that held her utterly and totally in thrall to her own senses, her own sense of the here and now.

There was light, now, at the end of the hall, and Ember halted before it, inky hooves placed with unerring precision in the divide between. Ember hesitated, her face hidden in shadows as behind her the echoing refrain too trailed away into a watchful silence. It was a silence that stretched painfully between that razor divide- the future (hundreds of gathered faces turned towards them, witnessing the dawn of the new age) as well as the past (smoke choking the air, screams, snuffed out in a blazing heartbeat of eternity-) and Ember allowed herself a moment, only that one, to live between, on the precipice of what could be and what had been, and rare, unsought emotion temporarily rose up, filling her soul with a blazing surge. She closed her blue eyes, suddenly nothing more than another silent, yawning shadow.

Tiny hooves, still soft with their newness, scuffed the floor behind her, and Ember’s gaze rekindled in the darkness.

She of all equines here, ought to know better than to discard the present. She looked behind her finally, dipped her head gravely at mother and child, and then she strode forwards into the blazing sunlight of the courtyard.

She allowed her gaze to sweep across the assembly, while the sun limned her ebony frame as if in greeting.

“Children of the Fire, most esteemed and glorious citizens of Aodh,” she began, and though her voice was quiet, it nevertheless swept a dampening hush over the crowd. She waited a moment, to be certain that every eye was turned towards her, every ear perked and attentive. “I, on behalf of the King, thank all of you for attending on this glorious, historical day.” She paused again, and though the light remained as strong as ever, her own cerulean eyes seemed to blaze with greater intensity. “Yes, historical,” she continued over the soft murmurs, and her voice had strengthened, though it grew no louder.

“You are gathered here today to witness not just the birth of a child into the house of Soleil, but to witness the dawn of our new age.” She tossed her head, eyes flashing, and did not wait for the murmurs to subside. “Citizens of Eithne, I invite you to now to share in the rekindling of your heritage, the flames that connect each and everyone of you to this esteemed land! The sun shines truly on Valore as we enter this new age, and as we fulfill our destiny, a destiny long denied to us! But you can no sooner deny your destiny than you can deny the turnings of the stars above, and so we stand together now, in this shining moment, and we meet our destiny!”

With one decisive sweep of her ebony tail, Ember stepped to the side, revealing the Lady Lilith as she too stepped into the light, followed on hesitant hooves by…


Little peach cloven hooves stopped at the precipice where shadow met light. Rosy eyes peered out at the crowd, shining beneath the blue and violet iridescence of the scales that ran from the tip of her nose to the end of her tasseled tail. It was the first time she had felt direct sunlight; it was warm and comforting.

“Come on, little one.” Chimed in her ears. The newborn stepped through the door and ran to her mother’s side, clinging close to the mare’s shadow. Even so, her form was unmistakable.

Hira: 

Mateo and Santiago | Ambassador and Big Bird

Mateo had been about to return the gentle smile when Syria introduced herself to the War Forged delegation, but her expression very quickly changed as that creature went a gallivanting through the War Lord’s legs towards the balcony’s edge... with her son giving prompt chase. Lorencio’s hushed, but insistent cries, ringing in her ears as he left her side in pursuit of that ragged little mutt that chewed her furniture and... brought smiles to the young lad’s face. Begrudgingly she had allowed it to stay with Loren’s promise that he would train her and take care of her and all that stuff that comes falling from the mouths of babes when they find something small and cute. Her gaze would shift from the boy to her War Lord as the two exchanged words, glad at least that the issue of Lorencio’s birth was a matter for another day when he was not present. She was glad her leader was tactful enough to keep him out of the affairs of grown horses as foalhood only lasted so long to begin with.

Momma Matty couldn’t quiet help herself as the turquoise telekinesis wrapped around the little speckled babe and pulled him close to the ‘sturdy’ balcony railings, the slightest puff of smoke whisping from her nostrils before she could calm herself. She cleared her throat and righted herself in hopes that no one saw the brief lapse in control, promptly shutting off Momma Bear mode as she knew full well that the colt was in good hands here. Alistair only wanted to help him get a better view, after all. With a shake of her head, her usual smile was back as a noise from the courtyard drew her attention elsewhere.

For a moment, she was confused as the little darling was put on display for the whole of Valore, her mind a whir with the possible meanings behind the presentation of such a creature. Luckily, her War Lord’s words broke the silence of the Balcony. A fake Kirin? What cause would the people of Aodh have for such a thing? In all her time here, she hadn’t seen a reason for them to pull such a stunt, but then, Haku’s words held some truth. These horses did indeed go for flashy.

“Ah wonder what has given them cause for such a spectacle...” She mused aloud.

Hira | War Lord


“Flashy,” Hira grunted, her distaste eloquently voiced with the one word of agreement. She had shoved her chest against the railing, craning her neck to see the scaled child more closely. It looked real enough, and somewhere deep in the vicinity of her gut, uneasy tendrils were beginning to stir and spread. It’s not possible, she told herself firmly. It’s just Aodh being Aodh. Oh, Solaris would never have stood for this… Not, of course, that Hira reckoned the young King Amadeus was aware of this, if she had to hazard a guess. It had been under his authority that she was invited here, but she knew well enough to look for the true source. The boy King’s advisers were still running the show that was government of Eithne. Having met the boy only once, Hira was rather inclined to thinking the advisers had the right of it, except of course that they still pretended the dumb kid was in charge. Honestly. Poor thing would have been put out of his misery, in Onea, and given a nice plot of land to farm quietly.

“You would know better than us,” Hira said absently in response to Mateo’s query. “But when does Aodh need reason to put on a spectacle? Although to do so when the King is out of the city…” she trailed off pensively, gaze resting once more upon Ember, and as if the dark mare had read her mind, her bright blue eyes shifted upwards and met Hira’s. She did not appear offended (unlike the Seroran Ambassador who had quite noticeably shifted to the side, as if fearing their flame god’s wrath and wishing to spare herself) and instead merely seemed to reach a calm decision. Ember released Hira’s gaze, but the pony found her tension growing rather than abating.

“Nothing good,” she said grimly in response to Ambassador Syria’s rhetorical murmur. “Alistair, I-” but she broke off as Ember had traded a very interesting glance with a grey stallion (another adviser to the King, Isador, she believed) and began to speak. Something… something that was both anticipatory and resigned rang from her quiet, commanding words, and Hira’s tension spiked suddenly into alarm. She knew she was not alone in this; Alistair was already moving, his lithe, golden body crowding into both Lorencio and Hira, tacitly shielding them from whatever was about to occur. On the railing, Aro trilled ominously, deep in his throat, and went stock still.

And the kirin child went up in flames.

Several horses cried out; the mother screamed. Hira inhaled sharply, but nothing more; one does not become War Lord by losing her head in a crisis. Blood pounding in her ears, every sense alert and thrumming with adrenaline, Hira forced herself to look away from the blaze. Ember remained standing calm, even as the mother threw herself forwards and was deflected- force field? That was interesting. Hira stared hard at the dark mare, and the grey stallion next to her, searching for any telltale signs of imbuement or charms. Oh, but she hated illusion-blessed with a passion, but if this were an illusion- it was a very strong one.

So which to hope for? The return of kirins- and what that would mean for Onea and Hireath- or trickery and subterfuge from their supposed allies?

Before Hira could decide, the flames had winked away, revealing a petrified but very unharmed filly, and no sign of magical enhancement that she could detect.

“Ah, hell,” Hira said succinctly.

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Post 3 | 582 words