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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 19 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#1

A memory, a mere skeleton of what great giant once lived, untouchable in all but this great horror. Nyx had found the lonesome corpse, a totem against the bleak whiteness of the north, just as the sun had lanced through the fury wrought clouds, a promise of an impending spring storm. The bones had risen as fossils amongst the snow, half buried, their surface polished and bare. They were but one of the countless marks of the war, a reminder of all those who had perished in the blast, innocents who had never participated, nor cared for its outcome.


They burned like ember.


His feet left prints of iron in the snow, his mortal coil damaged, even as the infernal infinity within tangled upon itself, until there was no escape. Such minor things had never perpturbed the paladin. They never were enough to slay the beast, a fatal blade to the heart. When one lived as long as he, fear had fallen away, a learned and managed frailty he could choose to label of little consequence. There was no mistaken arrogance, no pride in what he had become, merely, an understanding of the blight that had sunk deep into his bones, a foreign concoction, an infection, parasitic and symbiotic. It would not relinguish its hold upon him, feral was its lust, ignorant to the kings and idols and wisemen it had chosen to foresaken. 


Helios had once whispered in reverent intimacy of the value of life, his words falling low, warm, pooling around him as a golden wine. It had been a hazy memory, one Nyx had held as one of his most precious. In many ways, the Equus had shaped who he had become, had written with iron and ink into his very bones what it meant to be alive, and what it meant to change the world. The visionary was gone now, with only his hands left to enact his grand will. Blind, lost, without any means of direction, Nyx had fallen blindly into the war, had continued to rage where the family the King had created pushed forward, mad with grief, mad with anger. They believed themselves right, and so, the Wolves had become heretics. How many believed themselves to be the only truth?


Life was precious, because it was terribly fragile. Imperfect ruby gazed high, taking in the harsh shadows the bones cut across the ground, his own presence incomparable and intrusive here in this silence. He wondered what it was like, to perish here, all alone. No... that was incorrect. Perhaps this was the end most would perfer, rather then the eyes of strangers and beloved to witness just how imperfect they truly were.

"Speaking" | Thinking

@Juryoku
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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 38 posts 0 Honor 721 ☪ Eclair
#2
JurYoku
And I hold such hope in a song that saved my life

Above where he lain were faint squawks and small trills paired well with the sound of rushing water. Each wave crawling toward the land had pushed against his form; and for those that rolled tall and mighty, his gills would not deny the chance of a far more refreshing breath. This territory, Beastwreck, was certainly becoming his fave spot. The whiskered fellow hasn’t seen much of what rests beyond these skeletons and ice, but his heart was contented here as its homesickness knocked few and far between.

As he hummed away the hours, his mind began to grow hungry for something new to occupy its thoughts. He had lazed about quite enough, now was it time to go explore the rest of this land. The water seemed to have a hold on him as he struggled to get out of this relaxing state it brought him in. With a bit of rolling around and wiggling, Juryoku finally stood back upon all four legs. He shook off the teardrops the sea left on his fur, sauntering his way up to where the water no longer could reach over this frigid beach.

Off he goes to another place. With each minute that brought him farther from the seawater, the calmness he held dripped away onto the cold ground. There was no understanding this sickness and what baited it from the hole it snaked out of. It reached for his soul but constricted around his heart. Why it sought to remind him—the canine could never forget with memories as sticky as honeydew, though some of them were hardly as sweet. He paused once he reached a familiar spot upon this graveyard, a heavy cloud escaping his maw.

Whiskers were careful in touching a pile of bones he had since destroyed during his first time here. Frosted onto the ground, he pulled and pried off the remains of this unfortunate creature. He would not crunch them for their marrow like he done before, instead he would begin placing them in a pattern upon the cold earth. This one should lay nearer. Perhaps that one farther... As he placed and rearranged, crimson eyes took notice of a creature in the distance. One that was not a skeleton amongst these others.

Juryoku stood where he was with a bone still between his jaws. His tail curled around curiously as he took note of what all he could see of their appearance. A small chuckle poured from his mouth, amused with how his wonder was being proven further—how fantastical the souls upon this land could get. While they were a sight to behold, the monochrome fellow was not one to goggle. “Up to no good I see,” he called out to the stranger, dropping the bone he had in the process.

Meters away from this other soul, he remained where he was, standing in wait.



@Nyx
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 19 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#3

Long moments passed amongst the blurred edges of the world, fragments existing just beyond his perception. The world had seemed, smaller, since Nyx had drawn himself from oblivion, tempted with the barest of touches of something distant and unclear. What had finally come to be the tipping point that had finally shaken the darkness, he was uncertain. There had been no desire within him to return to Ourania, no precious bounty hidden in forgotten hills, potentially forever beyond his control. Such drive had long smoldered in the heavy rains, ash and curling, feeble smoke the only momument to the titan he had once been. Helios had called him callous, brazen, the heart and courage of a warrior he was not strong enough to possess. It seemed now, whatever he had been was long beyond his reach, fading in the blinding light upon horizons of land he could not go. And yet, something, had pushed the slumbering man from the cold, drawn him into the light, and made him see.


He lingered, wandering in the desolation of the north, places that had never been truly loved. Once, a battle had split the deep ice in two, gods raging as deep fissures premitted the sea further into the land than it had ever come. Those same fissures remained, hidden whipers, the crooning sigh of a siren in the vanishing surface of the solid waters. When one was foolish enough to fall, their echoes could carry for long terrible moments. There were no such places here, so close to the edge, not where the corpses of the leviathans had come to rest. His gaze turned upward, taking in the addicting draw of the great bones, their reach vaulted meters into the sky, flinching even as he refused to recoil from the brilliance of the dying sun upon bone and snow. 


Instinct would guide him down to the waters, tempting the creature to eat, to build his strength anew. Nyx was ravenous, refuting the whisper of hunger that haunted his waking hour. that very desperation stole away his nightmares, his mind to cautious of its on futility to gamble its resources on dreams and questions and doubts. Mistakes. Nothing else mattered except this one monumental error he had committed. The wolf remained, occupying himself with these relics of the past, solemn and thankful for the silence. The creaking and breaking of bones was a familiar sound, a brass horn to the symphony of his wkaing hours, and with one last, sweeping scrutiny, he turned to take in the appearance of the man. No fatally wounded corpses arising from the sodden earth, their faces twisted and grimacing, their fragile hide torn open, oozing forbidden smells and overwhelmingly sour with the iron taste of blood. It was just a wolf, a simple being. A mantle of rich sable grey fur, a belly of white reflecting against the snow, and writhing whiskers curling against his jaw and bone.

"Not at the moment."

"Speaking" | Thinking

@Juryoku
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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 38 posts 0 Honor 721 ☪ Eclair
#4
JurYoku
And I hold such hope in a song that saved my life

Once they took notice of him, deep reds retreated from the other male and traced along the work he has done so far. His nose wiggled about the ice and snow, nudging up any new pieces for his work of art here. An ear would not turn away from the stranger nor would his whiskers refuse to wave for what scent rode the breeze to spiral by. Their response to his words were noted, and he would keep his voice hidden as he worked his way closer to the other.

With his supply growing less and less, he set the last bone he had down, looking back at the line he made that seemed to draw out in a slithering motion. Mayhaps too extended from the base but later would he have to fix and finish this for he had company to attend to. With his gaze returning to the stranger, large paws crunched the snow beneath his weight, his legs leading him to a boulder that rested just two or three strides from this stranger. Forelegs pulled him up as his belly pressed against the freezing surface of the rock, his legs tucking beneath him once he lay comfortably on top of it.

Letting quietness return within the area, the memory of the sea’s song echoed throughout his mind—bringing another level of peace back upon the male. His crimson eyes would hide behind closing lids, however, his attention never would slip away from his company. Lips parted to let his honeyed tone take the cold silence again. “Then what has you wandering this graveyard? A fresh face or a known one here?” he asked as his deep reds reappeared and head cocked to the left. Juryoku still had to learn what creatures resided here, if there were any but him and these skeletons in the first place. He wondered if that quilled woman still lurked about, but her scent has been rather faint as of late. Nibbling at his forelegs, his gaze went to where he left the shore, a little note crooned by the next puff of air to rush over.



@Nyx
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
#5


A Spirit Orb has been discovered!
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 19 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#6

A palace of bone, bright and pallid at the same time, a collision of beliefs and perceptions. Some, would be repulsed, gaze upon the ruin and see only death, terrible and permenant, whereas he, saw only the tranquility, the lonesome silence, a fragment of a life that had in some way endured its own end. There were moments, when Nyx wondered what happened when the soul left the body; was there a place for it to find peace, embraced in the tender hold of those who had created all things, or, did only darkness and oblivion await the creatures who perished in this war? The Gods, were no more, killed by the very beings they had brought into existence. Did this mean the cycle had broken, lives of the immortals stretching on, and yet, no new child had been born to the natives in nigh on decades. Ourania had befallen a lifelessness that persided in the fact that nothing had changed, and few that had come into the world had fallen as stars, fading into the bleeding horizon before they had truly known who they were, or what they decided. 


Nyx cast a single, fleeting glance towards the man as he approached, his vision a haze of ash amongst the white, eyes of crimson brilliant, jewels of emberfyre cause in the world where little else existed. Rising to his throne, here at the edge of all things, he temporarily lost the fabled phoenix' attentions, for fading from the bones of the great and forgotten titan came a wisp of spirit, its presence hollow and... cold. It hovered there, silent, its voice a long distance from here, caught between the veil. Part of him recognized it as magic, and grimaced. It was magic, after all, that had caused ruin for the land, that had brought the great castle down in rubble, and took so many lives. Very little had come from magic, that had promised good to the people, for, they knew only greed, and destruction, removing all that was beautiful and neutral. A repetition of the cycle, forever refuting its mistakes. Nyx accepted it, for no other reason then he could not find it in himself to be that change, the light beckoned to him, oozing into his body until the chill seeped into his bones. He breathed out, a mist falling from his lips, colder then the frigid air around him. 


He looked towards the stranger then, a slow, contemplating motion. "Looking for ghosts." Only death could be found in a graveyard, death, and those who were dying. Another motion, his steps quiet against the snow, wraithlike regardless of his mantle of blood, before he jumped up, joining the other, alothe as his limbs folded upon the stone. He did not touch him, did not even look upon him, his gaze settled to look west, past bones and endless ice. "I know this land, and all its faces it has ever bore."

"Speaking" | Thinking

@Juryoku

Power Name: Soul Eater
Slot: Tertiary
Description: Time is an individuals worst enemy, it turns vulnerabilities into truly fatal errors, strengths into monsterous walls, and life into a meaningless blurred image. Life, loses its meaning with time. But not to Nyx. He bears an unusual power, one that is neither intentional but more, constantly persistant, dogging his footsteps, punishing him for his sins. Whenever Nyx is in physical contact with another for at least 10 seconds, he saps a piece of their essence, gaining portions of their physical strength, and with prolonged, repeated contact, at times fragments of their memories/persona. When in contact with a relic of a deceased, while he gains no physical strength or persona from them, he can get, emotional imprints of their final moments. This all in turn causes significant hallucinations, whispers in his head, and a difficulty in discerning his own ambitions and choices from those that he had been afflicted by. The ability will only become more depilitating as time progresses, with eventual extreme mental strain resulting in seizures, narcoleptic episodes, migraines, and potential worsening of his cataracts.
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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 38 posts 0 Honor 721 ☪ Eclair
#7
JurYoku
And I hold such hope in a song that saved my life

What was this now? As if a sound had rung from afar, his ears stood on end while seeking eyes drifted to a certain spot. The force inside him seemed to know before he did, feeling it quiver and claw out from the void it often rested in. That same presence he encountered before—another has emerged. It was... aura magic. The male could recall those words with the quilled woman’s voice remaining attached to them. A small sigh came from him, and his body shifted its weight to one side in relaxing further. No, it would be the same; Juryoku didn’t expect anything more, anything different.

But he shouldn’t doubt it. To believe that repulsion would be its sole answer.

Within his gaze did curiosity burn bright, laying his eyes on this stranger in which stood closer to the orb. His restless tail patted away as he waited to see what this magical sphere offered them. The expectation rising throughout his mind had drained in an instant when seeing the other simply breathe. No disappearing nor incredible ghastly movement from one spot to another. He was a fool for expecting a show, shaking his head in light disappointment. An ear flicked in hearing the stranger’s response; his lips parted to speak but were quick to shut when an imposing emptiness overtook him. Never has the cold slammed him at such magnitude—his core shuddering in near shock.

His soul opened its jaws wide to drink in the magic that lay present. Juryoku appeared lifeless for a moment until his mind and body jolted back into reality. Everything before him had distorted with eyes trying their best to paint a clearer picture. The emptiness began to fade as his soul immersed itself back into the depths from whence it came. Crimsons flickered with bones and snow filling his sight at last; they switched over to the feathered canine, now aware that they joined him on this boulder. As he sought to gather his thoughts, the fellow would let his words take the space between. “I hope it’s not to pester them. These poor souls deserve their rest,” he said, looking back out to the skeletons scattered about. The idea of war continued to mystify him—the futility, the destruction.

“Ever bore? So you’ve seen it all,” he assumed. “Tell me why these creatures had to suffer.” It ate at him. This need to understand why. He hated it, to witness the aftermath of a matter he could not see the validity in. Chaos before peace, he thought. That mayhem made serenity so much sweeter, a more precious thing to have once retrieved.



@Nyx

Power Name: Spirit Travel
Slot: Tertiary
Description: With this magic, Juryoku can use his soul as a means of traveling. To do so, he must mark an area he’d like to return to using a piece of his soul. Only two locations can be marked at once. Should he wish to move a marker, he must retrieve it and then take it to the new location. It’s useful for quick travel or for a quick escape. The magic will not only be draining for his soul but can effect him as a whole. After transferring, he will experience chest pains along with shortness of breath and exhaustion. It takes a week for his soul to regain all its energy. His soul’s energy level dictates how far it can bring him to his destination, and how heavy the side effects will be. Often will it refuse to let him use this magic when energy is low; however, in urgent situations, it can bring him a quarter of a way to a marked point but will result in a complete blackout.
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
#8
Magic Accepted!

@Nyx, your magic application for 'SOUL EATER' has been approved! You may now select an icon from the Icon Selection and add it to your character profile. Please also make sure your new magic description is listed under the 'Aura Magic' section of the profiles.





Magic Accepted!

@Juryoku, your magic application for 'SPIRIT TRAVEL' has been approved! You may now select an icon from the Icon Selection and add it to your character profile. Please also make sure your new magic description is listed under the 'Aura Magic' section of the profiles.
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 19 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#9

He had forgotten the reverence of life, the humble wariness of a soul that had lingered far beyond its death. Little alters laden with gifts left to rot had marked the edge of each battlefield long before the fall of the Gods, a commemoration of those who had fallen, to offer them peace, to seek blessings in some belief that it was the dead who would protect the living. It was the dead, who were both victim and martyr, neither deserving or undeserving of their fate. Nyx had in many ways, forgotten what it was like to fear the cruelty of fate, for he had seen the nature of the world, the cycle of consequences that without end, would find their burden fulfilled. So long had the people of Ourania ran from their choices, that in many ways, Kings, Queens, false Gods, proclaimed themselves above the very magnetic pull of what it was to be alive. There would always be those who suffered, and there would always be those who caused the suffering. It was only unfortunate, that in the instance of the beasts of the north, they would find their candle snuffed out without any knowledge as to why.


"Only the dead remember their final moments. They are our only truthful historians." He spoke slowly, quietly, his words solemn in his chest as a cold blade of ice in the inferno that was his own, unending life. In the moment, it was easy for an immortal to forget themselves vulnerable, a false endlessness that without fail would meet its ruin. In the beginning, when he had first awoken, when life had been breathed into him, shaped into one of the first to walk the land, he had not been ageless; none of them had. Some, faded away, a forgotten relic of a time of changing, other's, began anew, reborn into their bodies renewed, the vicious cycle of reincarnation giving rise to the first of the unaged. In some ways, he believed they had never meant to reach this stagnation; a mere, coincidence that had set to the flock a festering disease that had in time destroyed their union with the land.


Ghosts, held their secrets, but, they offered insight that the living would not accept as truth, unless it was thrust upon them. "It is the curse of war. There is always a side who must perish, to make way for the hubris of the victors. Many times, it is not either side who takes the greatest toll." The land, the inhabitants who went about their lives, uncaring of the cosmic knowledge of divinity, or the succession of sovereignty. It mattered not to the beasts of the sea, which of the races stood superior. It mattered little to anyone at all. "This war has raged for aeons; there are few who even remember its beginning, or reason for beginning. Many do not care to remember anymore."

"Speaking" | Thinking

@Juryoku
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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 38 posts 0 Honor 721 ☪ Eclair
#10
JurYoku
And I hold such hope in a song that saved my life

A few sweetened notes poured from his maw, the energy of his soul still bleeding into his mind. Those deceased, gone and within the grasp of the unknown. They remembered and so had he. Stories inscribed onto parchment, held together with binders worn by age. The elder, his grandfather, a being of olden days that took a task of ensuring each and every departed soul remain connected with the living—their history forever able to be known upon the mortal world. To what numen possessed that old man, it wrote for Death’s reaping but never respected It. The whiskered male wondered, and he doubted.

Resting against this large rock was a skeleton frozen in eternal fright. Juryoku peered down at it, soon shifting forward to reach down and touch the skull of this once creature. Nails tapped against bone, and his eyes searched deeply into the skull’s sockets. As the other male began answering his question laid forth, a sigh broke past his lips, unsatisfied with what was told. If only he could ask the remains here, let them tell him everything with the sincerity he sought—but he believed the feathered canine, taking his paw away from this skeleton and readjusting himself on this boulder. His eyes have yet to cross back onto his company, more focused on the overcast beginning to take over the blue painted upon the sky’s canvas.

“And what can they offer when they had not the breath to tell their story? They are not solely sufferers. War is not their only chapter.” He cared too much; this wasn’t even his land, his home. A conflict spanning millennia, understood rather than condemned. Had change become stagnant? A taboo to call for peace and concord in between the conquest for... power or whatever else. Certainly he searched for a reason, but with how this stranger talked, Juryoku doubted a reason or even a speculation would be given. “Are you of those that look not for the origin? Held to memories or have no source.” The monochrome canine threw out the question anyhow, hoping for a bite but not seeking to reel in anything special.

Stretching out his neck, he brought his gaze to where the shore waits; then, this graveyard took his view again, and now the stranger beside him. “Do you have a name, chap?” he asked, rising up to a sit.



@Nyx
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 19 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#11

There was more to a story then its end, more to an epilogue then the final sentence. He understood this, he had seen this truth unfurl in the hushed, tranquil moments of a distant kingdom from long ago. Ruled by an benevolent, wise lord, Nyx had seen beautiful things come from their creativity, artifacts that made their lives better, songs that filled their halls with golden light and soothed his racing thoughts. The outside world didn't exist in the heart of Ourens Keep, for there was more to life then war, more to life then suffering. Yet... "It is only their suffering I need learn from them. Their's is a life that I shall never know; they are creatures of the sea, I am a creature of the land." His gaze, hazy and distant, remembered times from long ago, times that had long faded to the other side of the horizon. "They need not speak to have a voice. There is much to learn if you but care to look."


Just as important as it was to remember why a war was fought, it was impossible to blindly turn one's gaze away from the horrors that existed beyond a dream. There were those who sacrificed their lives, so that other's may not know war. Nyx had in many ways, surrended himself to call, his life painted with blood and lives lost, in the dark, torn earth, in the haunting calls of those seeking their fallen brethern. When the cry went out, when the sword clashed upon shield, he did not care that the one beside him had family at home, only that he was competent. Perhaps it was heartless, perhaps it was empty, a hollow image of the life that had been taken away from him. But he had learned long ago, it was easier to let go of the burden of knowing, for far too many did not make it back. What was important, what was neccessary, was to learn from their demise, so that other's need not fall as they did. 


"I was there when the first Equus met its end to Canid teeth." A moment when the peace of the Gods fell, when retribution, vengence, painted the breast of kin and comrade. He had seen that very same wolf, fall beneath the weight of equine hooves, its ribs split as the ember spires before them. for immortals, they perished so easily. A strive for peace, an eternal alliance, only damned to eternal hatred by the ambitions of a single entity. Perhaps it hadn't been the first, yet, it had been the first to matter, the first to stand before the eyes of the world. Tilting his head back, he looked out over to the burning band of the horizon, a blurred forge of fire blurred with distance and his own fatal flaw, striken him by the Rift. It seemed finally, his own immortality had gained its crack in the iron shield. "They called me Nyx."
""

"Speaking" | Thinking

@Juryoku
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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 38 posts 0 Honor 721 ☪ Eclair
#12
JurYoku
And I hold such hope in a song that saved my life

Standing back onto all fours, his weight was forced onto legs as he leapt down from his perch. He walked off the impact and circled around to return his eyes on the stranger. Beneath dense fur did his gills twitch, knowing well that majority of the skeletons scattered about here were residence of the sea. Water he craved but land could he walk upon. Perhaps not truly one of them for he wore not the chain that kept most sea creatures close. Their pain—his thoughts could not tell from the mere salt in which he breathed in through air and water. Juryoku went silent, simply listening with wandering eyes.

It was strange. How... significant that statement was suppose to be. Such an occurrence he would think is a natural part of life, a wolf burying its teeth into the flesh of its prey. However, he forgot this land had not the ways of nature shadowing the minds of those here; a feral mindset ridden by culture and survival by not when the next meal would come, but who sought to be at one’s throat from the ideas one spouted. Time brought adaption, cultivation should nature allow more amongst its creatures. He nodded his head, understanding of why that moment spoke importance in history. Perhaps it was one of the sparks to start the fire, a flame that since destroyed what all it had touched.

He cocked his head at how the feathered canine gave his name. Although baffled, words would not press on it. “Juryoku is my given. A pleasure meeting you,” he said, bowing his head before turning to walk away. Steps stopped for a moment, however, as the fellow went back to retrieve the skull he looked over earlier. It was then a few more words followed forth. “The sea does not tell, but it does sing of former melodies, times. Take it for what it is, a mere tune or a ballad for what it knows,” he said, prying off and picking up the skull once taken by the ice.

“Take care.”

Off he goes, making his way back to where the arrangement of bones rested in wait. His mind scanned through thoughts and options that ran along. Juryoku replayed all that went on in the encounter with that peculiar canine, trying to fit pieces together in hopes of painting a clearer picture—to understand more of what he continues to try and see through the eyes of this land.

~Exit~



@Nyx
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 19 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#13

The name was given, his ears shifting to cup the word, both foreign and common. It was the only acknowledgement he would gain, for his eyes were set to the west, there where the horizon bled dark amongst the ashen peaks of the feral rim. There where Ourania dwelled, her spirit tempting him forward, a mother to call forth her child from its wayward path. Perhaps, had he been a stronger man, Nyx could have abandoned the conflict, left those shores for places he had only heard of, rumors on the wind given life by the infrequent and scarce words of merchants. They came from lands that were alien and yet, so similar to Ourania, each contained in its own universe, ignorant of the suffering of others. It was strange, how all was connected by such a feeble web of connection, the brave few who transversed the void for exotica in the corners of the world, where shadow and light painted a design unique to their vain temperment. He would go however, for it was all he knew, and perhaps, part of him wished to know what had become of the world he had left behind, what had befallen Ouren as the earth screamed and tore itself apart. Even here, leagues to the east, remenents of the disaster had taken its toll.


The ocean could keep its tunes. Nyx did not care to know of its story, of the shores he would never see. The godborn knew that one day he would die here, upon this earth, there in the cradle where breath had first filled his lungs. Perhaps it would not occur for another age, his own redemption endless as the faults in his fate. He did not seek forgiveness, did not want it, but there were consequences for the choices made, for the damage done. Time would tell what had become of Ourania, what she would demand of her children. He stood, jumping down from the stone, his feathers bleeding into the red ice where the sun cast its rays. 


He doubted they would meet again.


-Exit-

""

"Speaking" | Thinking

@Juryoku
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