Event  Chapter One, Location One - Northern Rift
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
#1
Mending the Rift
Fable: Chapter One, Location One


For the first time in many moons, Cataclysma felt calm. The quakes have subsided, the red-rocks and ironscapes no longer trembling as if beneath a fainted touch, and the air -- foggy and shrouded though it was -- somehow felt… cleaner, brighter. But with that calm came something new: a gentle, far-off voice echoing in the distant chasm of the Rift that had opened up within the earth, splitting Ourania in two. It yawned wide and black out of the basin of Cataclysma’s foundation, teeming with varying sensations of magic and otherworldy things. 

Most notably, however, were the wisps of magical, sparling substance that floated in the air, leaving trails of teeming energy in their wake. These wraith-like presentations spun slow and sultry circles and patterns along the edge of the Rift, enticing any who might see them to the precipice where open darkness and broken rock came together. They were neither Aura nor Immortal being.


Welcome to Ourania's first Site Event, and the first of many Fables. It's time we began to explore the Rift and what has healed since the Unfinished War nearly a year ago.

You have 48 hours to respond before the next chapter proceeds. Once a chapter proceeds, the chapter will close to new participation. You are welcome to participate with more than one character, however characters cannot cross-post on other locations. Happy writing!
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Equine 99yo Female, Average & Average Native 34 posts 0 Honor 656 ☪ Pyro
#2
She had to walk a lot to get here. Then again, these equine legs were mean for walking, running, galloping. That is if she weren’t afraid to trip over a root and smash her face against the floor. So, the dark bay mare sticks to walking and manages to walk right onto the rift. At the sight, her stomach begins to churn and her throat shrinks. Had she ever been this close before? Klaia did not think so for she had never seen those wisps of sparkly air before. Had that always been there? Sauntering towards the edge she takes a peek inside and hears something. A voice seems to call to her but she cannot make out the words. “Hello?!“ She calls out only to receive a millions fragments of her own voice that bounce off the chasms walls. It only serves to make her feel even more uncomfortable. The darkness and mystery of the chasm make the mare fearful. Anything could pop out and try to drag her down there. She takes a few steps back form the edge, hooves sliding a little. Falling on her butt with a lack of grace she then dares to look up. At that moment, her attention is capture by those magical wisps again as her head raises. They shine above her, reflecting off her eyes and dancing around the horn that adorns her face. For a moment, her apprehension and fear is taken away by this beautiful sight. They enchant her so much a smile appears on her maw unconsciously. Looking up is so much better than looking down. She stands up and tries to sniff at the bits of light but they escape being sucked into her wide nostrils. They almost seem alive in their playful movements. A giggle leaves hers lips, the first in a long long while.
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 18 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#3

His path had wound its way along the edge of the sky and earth, there where the solemn shadow of the black sky met the mottle flesh of the world, burning bright and fevered, a passion of two great entities never to touch. The sanguine feathers had hung heavy and scolding upon his back, there where the heat had built, as long hours had slowly eaten away at the solitary wastes. Barren whitelands had turned to earthy crags, and then, blackened, broken stone. The edge of all things alive and bountiful, this place that had worn bloodshed and hatred as a curse. It laid upon all it touched with a heavy hand, and Nyx found himself only growing more wary of what would greet him when he finally stepped foot into Ourania once more. Yet, as much as he wished to turn away, to fold into the passage of time and slumber until his bones turned to dust and his soul faded by candlelight, he could not stop the draw, the summon that beckoned to the deepest part of himself. The whispers had begun again, the sighs he could not heart and yet he knew they were there. The undying remembered a time such as this, long ago, when the magics of the Gods had only just began to stretch out upon the shadows and lightscapes of the world. It was a time of change, a time of power, when there were no boundaries between what was eternal and what was finite.


When at last his eyes set upon the remains of the once prosperous and bountiful westerlands, Nyx felt a crushing sorrow. The land was torn, broken, a great and awning hole consuming the feeble dawns glow. The Rift appeared to be burning from a distance, and all at once, the whispers grew, agonizing and weighted, cutting into the marrow of his brain. So many lives had been taken that day, and many days to follow. He could remember the distant cries, the moaning of those who slowly faded beneath the agony of their wounds. Fire burned away everything that could been recognized in the few survivors, their bodies twisted and raw, their eyes hollow. War brought many terrors, and it seemed that here, they would forever have a reminder of it. 


For a time, the man stood upon his ledge, a distant bird of flame, immortalizing the broken slopes below, until at last, he turned his eyes to the Cataclysma. The peak had been an dominating shadow on the horizon, visible from all corners of the realm. Yet now, it too bore its scars, the sharp cliffs cracked and broken, leaning in upon itself. The walls of the valley had given way from the force of the shatter, great waves of broken rock and earth leading down to the maw of the Rift, where all things laid devoured. 


He descended in long strides, his claws feet sturdy where no footing was offered. His feathers, tattered and faded, spread as wings upon his back, sighing upon stone. The muted hour of the day had set in when he finally reached the barren grounds, the Rift appearing wider and deeper the closer he stood. Yet, there was more then darkness, a feeble, winding spell of light, a seam amongst the air as if water. He ppered up towards them, the mans misty eyes seeming far clearer then they had ever been. It didn't feel like... anything. And yet, the whispers continued, his ears turning, darting to catch a taste of the cause, only to forever be just out of his grasp. 

"Speaking" | Thinking
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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 37 posts 0 Honor 700 ☪ Eclair
#4

Slumbering within the shallow waters of Rune, his ears were tuned in to the crashing water not far from where he rested. His core was thankful for the cool water embracing his form. The male was working his way back up to the frozen north, deciding to wait for the cooler seasons to glide through before he would head farther south. With crimson eyes peeking through, he looked up to the skies untouched by any puffy masses that often took its canvas. Stretching his neck with head now high above the water, he held such a pose as whiskers reached for the blue above.

Claws dragged him out of this river, laying on his belly while he admired the scenery around him. How he wished he could stay, perhaps he could. Though the peak here was minuscule compared to those he once lived upon, it had that same charm his home wore. He would leave a piece of his mind here; Juryoku beginning to climb one of the small mountains present here. And once he reached the top of it, he realized much larger peaks stood right behind where this sector lain. His heart fluttered at the sight, and his legs would break for the mountains that touched the sky.

Descending down the last small mountain of Rune, he trotted along the landscape between with curiosity fueling his mind. The sun sat high upon its throne as it shone with great brilliance. His pace had slowed when he noticed something seem to... stick out. On his way to the great peak does he spot strange wisps that appeared to hover around a certain area. It was then he realized what he walked near. So this is it—the Rift. His head never left the tilt is was in, halting his steps once drawing near the foot of Cataclysma. 

The mountains in which stood around this mighty one were less than pleasing to his eyes. Despite how plain they appeared to be, they still struck a soft spot in his heart. His attention was grabbed by a voice before he could begin reminiscing. Looking around, he could see a few souls lingered about this opening; the male figuring that the voice had come from one of them. He placed his rump onto the ground while he looked down into the Rift. His eyes would wonder with the wisps every so often; his ears standing tall as if looking for words to crawl out from the darkness below.


TABLE BY  ARGENT
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
#5


An Illusion Orb has been discovered!
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Equine 1354yo Female, Average & Thin Native 10 posts 0 Honor 89 ☪ argent
#6



CRADLE SONGS OF COMFORT
AND BONES GNAWED By TEETH


The Rift has been calling her.

She tastes it in her dreams and, like a forgotten memory, the desire to see it rises to the forefront of her mind each time Ashen faces the setting sun. It is electric, awful in the perverse blackness of its depths, and it summons her with a willful indulgence. Ashen fears it, but even still, she finds herself staring in horror at the rising column of mingled fog and dust in the near distance. Cataclysma has been still as the dead in the hours since she began her climb, but the looming stones still clatter down from their precarious perches, driving adrenaline through her veins with every echoing crack.

The world falls away as the clouds swallow up her alabaster figure and Ashen, stumbling over stone and ravine, drives herself onward with a single-minded detachment. The world seems less real as the altitude increases, leaving her to stagger to a halt as figures abruptly materialize, half-hidden, in the fog. They are all canid, so far as she can tell, but when one of them moves, she realizes that it is merely a horse sat back upon her haunches.

The figures do not seem to be there together, nor have they all noticed each other, and for a moment Ashen's mind struggles back towards her body— suspicious of these strangers' motives.

But the Rift is a siren, and she sings her sweet song.

Isenhart, misféhest forhwý unc ús?, cries the wind in all her abject fury, the earth as it grinds slowly beneath her hooves. The past and present tangle themselves in her mane as Ashen is drawn aside, down to the depths where the beginning, and end, of all things might be found. Hit dereþ beon, sighs Cataclysma, the lone raven that skims the few barren trees still standing near the Rift.

The broken rock crumbles beneath her feet, but Ashen has eyes only for the wraiths hovering so cloyingly near the Rift. They are, and are not; the beginning nor the end. "Bió ic sáre," she whispers, and no longer does she wonder at the aberrations of time and space— not when the answer looms so near at hand. "Ic forgeaf."


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Equine 99yo Female, Average & Average Native 34 posts 0 Honor 656 ☪ Pyro
#7
As lovely as the magic tendrils of light are, they are not enough to keep her from staying alert. She is joined by two other figures. Wolves. Her pupils widen inside her sky-blue eyes. They don’t seem to notice her and she lacks the confidence to approach them for they both look… scary. Feathers adorn one of them, the faded read color too similar to blood for her taste. Maybe they were too fascinated by the rift or they were just downright ignoring her. There’s two of them and one of her and could have been much more involved in the war than she once was. The mare decides to give them their space and her attention goes back to the rift. What could be causing this reaction? It had appeared there so suddenly, sending their world into chaos. Now this weird magic seemed to be emanating from it. Could the rift not be only a split in the earth but an opening to something? And the voice she had heard. Something could be trying to get out. Her lithe limbs pull her toward the edge of the earth’s open wound once more and she takes a good long look. Curiosity wins over her fear as she practically leans into it. “Hello?” She tries to make contact with the source of the voice once more and get the same fragmented response.

Suddenly she spots something emerging from the depths of the rift, rising like a leaf in the aravind wind a few meters further down the large crack. The dark bay mare rushes toward the sparkling object. She almost touches her nose to it when she hits the brakes and comes to a stop before the thing. So round, so smooth, so unnatural! Right away she can tell this is no trick of the light but real magic. She has not been in the presence of magic often in her 99 years of life. This time the orb holds all her attention so that she does not see a fellow equine join the group, this one does not wish to interact either. When she tries to bump the orb with her nose it moves away from her in a teasing form. A scowl mars her face as she glares at the runaway sphere. She has to do something it would not expect. Hmm, how does magic taste?

Within the blink of an eye the mare sticks her tongue out and sure enough it makes contact with the orb. Bad idea. A shock of electricity runs through her body and her hair stood on end frizzing up. An involuntary yelp leaves her mouth. Something strange happened then, she swore that she heard that same sound multiplied beside her as is multiple versions of her had screamed at the same time. And out of the corner of her eye it almost seemed like there were mirror versions of herself. Was that real or just a side effect form the shock.


Power Name: Doppleganger
Slot: Primary
Description: Klaia can manipulate reality in order to create holograms of herself, they have her same memories, same personality and same appearance. At the start it will take great concentration to form each doppleganger but as she practices she'll get faster and make more realistic creations. After creation no more energy needs to be spent. Once created they move as independent beings but they are also connected mentally to their creator so they can be controlled telepathically. Since they are only holograms once someone comes in contact with them they disappear. They are mainly for confusing an enemy and can open the opportunity for a quick getaway or allow the real Klaia to get closer for a surprise attack. The dopplegangers can be used for recreational purposes too but since they take a good amount of energy to create it would likely be just one or two holograms. Dopplegangers will fade away after an hour or if they wander away from Klaia's line of sight.
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human 900yo Genderfluid, Tall & Thin Native 11 posts 0 Honor 246 ☪
#8
Magic Accepted!

@Klaia, your magic application for 'DOPPLEGANGER' 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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Equine 4yo Female, Short & Thin Immigrant 2 posts 0 Honor 65 ☪ Elle
#9
From the outskirts she must follow the small gathering of life. There was a relief in her blue eye that all had not fallen to plague or disease in the bountiful land. From the nooks of the east and the crevasses of the west, bodies grew seeking a refuge from whatever tainted existence tied them all together.

Perhaps in anther life they had been deceased,others a walking dream. Cersei had been a heavenly body far above all to lay nestled against the breast of the divine. The young mare had grown curious and ventured to earth, swallowing their sorrows and miseries. Her soul lay cleansed and transparent as she assumed her distance from the collection of equine and canine.

Their movements are slow and deliberate. Some called outward for guidance whilst others banded for the sake of survival. The winged, pale mare chose her solitude for their nearness could collectively incapacitate her. Yet the Rift causes her to draw closer, ears forward, the length of her leonine tail slightly lifted as she tilts an ear upward. It calls sweetly, a lullaby whispered on ancient tongues to lure her close. The white mare scoffs slightly as she notices the glittering dust materializing and moving with an uncanny rhythm that the wind could not replicate.

Something has drawn her here. Something desired her presence.
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Equine 9yo Female, Average & Thin Immigrant 2 posts 0 Honor 50 ☪ Anacostia
#10
When all one desires is her life, it's hard to want for anything more. What Lourdes knew for sure was that there wasn't a life for her back home. She may have gone on living until succumbing to the mortality she wasn't sure she had (but what's the best way to check?), or she may have taken her life from sheer loneliness. Either way, she knew she had to get out. 

Now that she was out, the winged maiden searched for a purpose. For so long her only desire had been "something else" that now that she had it she had no idea where to go next. But for this reason, this nihilistic outlook where nothing before this moment mattered and the future lay perfectly empty, she was was not fearful of the Rift. No, using her long and otherwise useless wings to keep balance, she traveled along its edge with little worry about what might wait for her below should she put one hoof wrong. 

Since her arrival in this deep claret wasteland she had been alone, and yet she had not moved on. Though her better judgement told her to turn around, to find a place more populated and less...visceral(?), she knew, somehow, that magic had beckoned her here. Her, a simple mortal with wings that didn't even work, destined for something else? Maybe. 

Her decision to stay was vindicated when she heard the voices. Raising her head just a touch higher than usual her coal ears pointed toward the source, but had trouble pinpointing the echoes. Still she was able to pick a direction and set off at once, remaining close to the Rift as she moved. 

What she saw when she crested the hell was unexpected to say the least. The silvery wisps that danced around them brought happy news--she was right about the magic--but even those were not in the forefront of her mind when she saw them. The most terrifying, barbaric breed of dog she had ever seen. Startled, the mare's gait did not stop but became lighter, springier, her hooves dancing against the rocky terrain and ready to push off and run. As she quickly surveyed the landscape, however, she realized her presence broke the tie. There were two other equines, her making three, and the dogs were outnumbered. She did not let her guard down, but the fact made her feel somewhat safer. 

She is closest to another equine, a white mare, so she moves towards her, offering a quick nod in greeting to the bay while ignoring the dogs entirely. The white one mutters something in a language Lourdes does not understand, but she tries her luck regardless. 

"Are there many of them here?" She inquires of the woman, not thinking that the other equine could only know as much as she. Surely she couldn't be as new to the area as Lourdes, just hours a citizen. Her petite head gestures to the two dogs in explanation of her question. "Are we..quite safe?"

Criticize her priorities all you want, but the wisps seemed friendly--the dogs did not.
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Canine 5yo Female, Average & Thin Immigrant 5 posts 0 Honor 12 ☪ Nikkayla
#11
Ciaran
We have a chance to make a difference til our dying day.
She had not been here long. It was still awkward, walking around like this but she found as she grew used to it, how much it was preferable. She missed her shadow of white and fur, Karsi, but she knew that she’d see him again. Yet something had pulled at her, drawing the woman from the places she been lurking, stalking prey and learning to eat like a wolf, out into the mountainous region – the place she felt more at home. Here, she found, the great rift ended  at the foot of the impassable mountain range.

And here, amid others, she stood and watched the figures of shadow and light twirling and dancing over the Rift, a strange figure to her eyes but looking like some kind of illusion. Ciaran wonders why they danced in the way they did. She wanted to speak, to ask, but she did not.

The woman instead remained silent and watched on, unsure of what was happening.

Something was coming though, there was a strange electricity in the air. It would be here soon, she knew… and despite the warning in her heart, she lifted her head and looked out before her through her blue eyes.

Let it come, she thought. Let us see what pulls us here…
And life was like a comet falling from the sky.
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
#12
Would they come? it wondered. Was it even an it, a being? Was it sentient or merely omniscient? The wisps of magic continued their dance in a manner that seemed almost seductive in a way, their refracting tails of energy weaving gentle spirals in a manner that was all too ‘come-hither’. And so they would come: one by one, denizen and newcomer, setting foot upon a land that had seen no share of life since the dramatic creation of the dark and gaping chasm that now split Ourania into two nearly-perfect halves. Death, as they say, is only the beginning after all.

”Hello?” @Klaia's cry reverberated off of the walls, sending an echo across the expanse and into the depth below. The magical wisps, startled, speed up their movements for but a moment before resuming their slow, easy patterns as they hovered and floated above the center of the Rift.

As @Nyx, @Juryoku and @Ashen joined company of sorts -- while separate, the magic of the Rift could sense their nearness regardless -- the strength of the wisp’s appearance intensified. It was as if each soul who came gave life to them and their glow became brighter, their tails more starry…

These wisps, whatever they were, had taken on lives of their own. No longer did they drift in unison but rather in their own design, each one completing a dancing pattern more different than the last. It wasn’t until the Orb appeared and Klaia claimed it that all happiness in the wisps seemed to disappear in an instant: their movements became agitated, almost hostile, one of them drifting a wide and arcing circle that brought it within near-touch of every resident currently there. Would it serve as a warning, or an enticement?

More come. @Cersei, @Lourdes and @Ciaran join the ranks of those present and soon the Rift’s edges are crowded with souls. The wisps, still agitated, speed up their movements. They now rush and speed in all directions and in doing so bring themselves within reach of the creatures gathered there in their own separated ways, taunting them with near-misses but never actually touching them. They beckon them, steer them, nip at their heels as if to herd them with the common goal of unifying them closely together on the Rift’s edge. No good could come from distance, no… they must gather more closely, their breath mingling. ’Together’, seethes a distant, cosmic voice.

And then: stillness. Complete, and utter, stillness.

As they freeze in place, it becomes clear that there is a single wisp for each creature there, and it has stopped before them, meeting their eyesight, and each creature would find a vision clouding their mind with utter urgency: an image of that creature shedding all they held dear to them and stepping freely into the blackness of the Rift. A willing sacrifice.

One by one, the wisps would guide their chosen creature to the brink of the Rift and beyond: beckoning them hence in any way they could, whether by touch, push or tug at a wisp of forelock or nape-hair. Whether canine or equine it would all remain the same, unbiased and sentient to all they might think or wonder.


This chapter of the site event is now closed to all new participation; only those currently present may partake. The Rift has stirred and with it, magic abounds: you're being beckoned into the Rift itself... but will you heed it?

All participants have 72 hours to reply before the chapter proceeds.
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 18 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#13

He was a reflection of creation, a spark from the forge upon which anvil and fire met. He was what coinsided within the heart of the beast, the collision of elemency, the whisper of a perfect creature, a Godborn. Nyx, hstad never believed believed himself a paragon of truth, a guide in the dark to ward off the stiffling doubts and burdens. He, was no harbinger of answers, for long ago the crimson man had forgotten what it meant to seek. His light, his Helios, the Sun King of the Equus, had taken all the joy from his heart, leaving but a barren husk behind, a totem to summon the wraiths and ghouls, a monster upon the field. Some called him traitor, a Wolf who knelt subserviant to their enemy, other's believed him nothing more then a phantom, a blight stolen away by the cruel malicious seductions of fouler necromancers. How easy it was, to paint the misunderstood in a vile light, stealing away their animality and self. They were not individuals, they had no dreams, had noone to care back home, when the fires at the edge of the gladiator pits smoldered and died. It was easier, to make the other side, true sinners.


He stood upon the edge, his crown raised high, defient in his fearless abandon, his carelessness? Regardless of his creation, regardless of the long years that stretched into the glow of the horizon, Nyx had never truly felt love for the Gods. They had... existed in the words of the believers who found passion in their faith, they existed in the rapturous words of a King who painted their hopelessness into a trial, and in the intimate words whispered into the ear of a child by their devoted parents. God, had never been a conscious entity, an omnipresent guardian, forever listening, forever measuring and weighing the choice bestowed them as a blessing, and a curse for their freedom. God, was in the word of their children, and Nyx, listened, perhaps never quite wanting to follow suit, but, to sate that uncertainty that sparked as a poison in their mind. Faith, was powerful, yet, even faith had its limits.


There were no whispers to greet him, no haunting cry in the night, a fevered melody to bolster the spirit, give amorous intrigue in a mind left to wonder far too long. His heart was closed off to, his magic, feeble and but a cooling ember to the inferno it had once been. Whatever tied him to these orbiting comets, had long faded away. However, as more appeared, as his senses warned him in age old paranoia, Nyx noticed the change, the building energy that made his body feel impossibly heavy, and infinitely light. Once such essence jettisoned passed his vision, blinding, leaving a painful seering burn in the back of his eyes, the cardinal feathers disshuffled and bleeding into a kindling fire, bright and reflective. His face grimaced, a sudden snarl passed his lips, a faint warmth against his fur from how close it had come. Their frenzy only seemed to grow, building in nervous tension, and Nyx, let his gaze wander, sweeping over the rocky hills, the appearance of many Equus, and a few, lingering Wolves. He knew none of their faces, none of the horses he had known, had fought alongside stood tall amongst the unknown, and Nyx, for a moment, frowned. He wondered, if any of the Ouren Keeper had survived.


Everything came to halt, imperfect garnet turned to white, veinless and bloodless. Long ago, whispers would have commended his footsteps, hesitant and amused all at once, proclaiming him self sacrificing. He who did not fear, was without caution, he who did not fear death, did not shy away from its greeting. Nyx stepped closer to the edge, his slight moment the only give the herald would gain, as its heat and prodding grew more relentless, futile in its demands. He felt as the other's came closer, perhaps harrassed as he was, yet, he gave them little pause, drawn to the spark, floating quietly, suddenly still. He had never needed a push, never yielded willingly to anything, and perhaps, whatever... this was, realized that. Sight, sound, and touch seemed to fade to nothing, the world, quiet, and defeaning, and for a moment, a fracture of a second in the passage of time, he heard it. 'Take the leap.'


That voice...


He took a leap of faith. For the first time, in a very long time.

"Speaking" | Thinking
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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 37 posts 0 Honor 700 ☪ Eclair
#14

Had he known of these? Through memories did he flip through but none had not the answer written in ink. Nothing of a similar notion and mayhap not a mirroring purpose. No archive he had waded through could shed light on these magical wisps, which brought curiosity to the forefront of his mind. If there was a story, how he wish he could know it. If there shone a meaning, how he wish he could understand it. His whiskers would reach out, hoping to at least touch one of these magical wisps. However, he would withdraw them once the wisps hastened.

As time went on, the dances of these wisps were growing unique. One perhaps moved with more intricacy, while another with true simplicity. With other creatures having appeared, finally had the male took the time to survey the many faces that had arrived here. It was a nice blend of souls as he painted a picture of each one into his memory. His attention returns to the magic around, noticing how the wisps were all over the place now. Deep reds shifted to a single wisp that seemed to harass him. A statue would he remain, refusing to do whatever this wisp wanted of him. Soon as he heard a distant voice, however, Juryoku would rise back onto his legs—uncertainty filling his mask.

Closer he had gotten to where majority of the others were at. In the process, he drifted farther from the edge of the Rift, seating himself amongst everyone else. It was then a wisp came forward to him. He stared at it and it at him. What had come next, the clouding of his mind, did something hiss deep inside of him: his soul. It grew insecure, defensive to this magic that tries to beckon and guide him. He knew nothing of this land, what all it holds and what it could do.

He did not trust it.

Something stirred in his mind; his heart being swallowed by a vile energy. As the wisp tugged at his fur and whiskers, Juryoku moved back a few more inches, refusing to even come near the Rift now. He was rooted to his spot and unwilling to move from it. From where he sat, he would watch to see what the others will do. A shallow breath broke past his lips once seeing the first creature jump in.


TABLE BY  ARGENT
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Equine 99yo Female, Average & Average Native 34 posts 0 Honor 656 ☪ Pyro
#15
The orb disappears, it’s as if her body has absorbed whatever energy the sphere had. Her hair remains standing up on her mane and tail. If she had access to a reflecting pool she would have probably laughed at how goofy she looked. But all humor is sucked out of the situation as the wisps of magic being to act more and more agitated. She is still confused as to whether or not they are alive. Secretly she wishes she could take one home and study it. But that is probably not going to be possible as the start flying around with no rhyme nor reason. Actually, it might be a more calculated movement She notices that although they come pretty close they do not touch her. Whatever force controls these orbs is trying to scare her, or move her. They seem to try and push the strangers together. She even hears a voice that seems to command them to get closer. “Uh, I don’t like to take magical walks with strangers.” The horned woman replies to the air as if the mystical forces would actually give a flip about what she wanted. Suddenly the movements seize. Did she get through to them? Will they give up on this silly quest? A wisp then floats towards her, hovering directly above her nose. Although it has no eyes, Klaia feels as if she’s in a stare contest. 

Suddenly a picture is plastered over her might. Her mother, father and others she has known through the years are around her. Their images flicker like a flame about to go out. She sees herself turn form them and step into the rift, she sees them fade away like smoke in the sky. The desperation from the vision is so real her heart feels as if it is being squeezed until it can’t’ pump any more blood to her extremities. She’s not like that is she? She did not abandon her family. Wait. She did. Klaia let them leave her behind because she could not handle loss because she could not handle not being in control. And who knows where they are now? Are they dead, is that what the wisps are trying to tell her? Or maybe they just want her to finish what she started and give herself up too. With eyes full of fear, she turns to see if anyone else had that brush with loss. But she does not get to make a full study as the wisp begins to pull at her mane hairs. “Ouch!”. It wants her to go towards the rift. Curiosity would normally pull her to the unknown but the vision has injected her with fear. Digging her hooves into the ground she tries to resist the wisps attempts to move her. And then suddenly a madman jumps into the rift. JUMPS INTO IT! “Oh my gods!” She uses the old expression without much thought as she rushes forward towards the edge of the rift. “Are you ok down there?” She calls to the wolf. The wisp then rushes towards her and pulls her way from the edge. She’s had enough of this tugging. “Let. Me. Go!” She then pulls with all her might only realizing to late the wisp’s plans. She had to back up to get strength and when she is teetering over the edge, leaning back, the wisp lets go. Her lungs let out a scream as she begins to fall. It is this it?
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Canine 5yo Female, Average & Thin Immigrant 5 posts 0 Honor 12 ☪ Nikkayla
#16
Ciaran
We have a chance to make a difference til our dying day.
So many of them stood together and around, and she was just like them. Standing, staring, watching and wondering what their dance was, why they twisted and twirled and moved like the wind, and they were behind them. It felt like they were herding her, pushing them, and Ciaran turned her eyes to the gaping maw that was the Rift. She felt ushered closer to that ledge, and while common sense bit at her mind, telling her to stand firm – but ever since she had been a child, curiosity had been her burden and beneath the open sky, she felt emboldened.

All she saw was the dark. She heard the sound of a voice nearby, crying out and wanting nothing more than to be freed. Her blue eyes turn and watch the equine, teetering on the edge and Ciaran moved silently then. She padded low on her strange clawed limbs, moving towards the Rift and sideways at all once.

She herself slid down into the Rift, claws scrabbling a little as she steeled her mind and took her own leap of faith – in herself. She hoped that she might be able to help the equine who was struggling, somehow, even if just to soften her landing – or just to be there with a gentle smile and a helping hand (or paw) if it was needed. Ciaran felt the wisps, the wraithes, all around her, and she allowed herself to slide further…

No holding back. She wanted to know what was down there…
And life was like a comet falling from the sky.
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Equine 1354yo Female, Average & Thin Native 10 posts 0 Honor 89 ☪ argent
#17



CRADLE SONGS OF COMFORT
AND BONES GNAWED By TEETH


The spirits storm about them, rattled by the appearance of the aura orb, and of the gathered few, Ashen looks most akin to stone. They race through her mane, dashing it into knots, and she looks no more than supine— given over to watching their trailing lights as though augering the coming events. Her gaze is that of a dreamer's; all distant thoughts and memories lost to sleep.

She has seen this — or something like it — before. In her senses is the impression of marble, hard and unrelenting, beneath her hooves. Fear, awe, betrayal. Each emotion chokes the breath from her lungs, and in that breathless hurricane that has become her mind she hears the wisps' command in a voice she only then remembers. How had she forgotten? Formed of stardust and raw clay, she'd known no other parent.

Frightened and mistrustful is the grey-furred canine who, like the others, had been herded towards the precipice— Ashen fixes @Juryoku with a gaze as cold and clear as starlight. "When the Gods call, it is better to answer," she says thickly, returning to the modern tongue clumsily, rolling guttural vowels over the words she once knew so well. She is two-fold now, the bright-eyed youth juxtaposed by a voice long-since honed by bitterness, and even her name fits strangely.

But she has rediscovered her conviction.

This mare, whatever name she claims, rushes @Juryoku, intending to drive him off the cliff as she, too, leapt for the abyss.

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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 37 posts 0 Honor 700 ☪ Eclair
#18

This gathering was growing thin as another jumped down. A certain pressure fell upon his shoulders as he wondered if he sat here in the wrong. There was a need to follow, to go where the majority went. However, Juryoku would not let such a thing drive him forth. It seemed the others had went so blindly, save the dark bay mare that teetered over the edge before falling. What was it? What had been there to entice them over? He had not seen it but perhaps it was best that he did not.

Curiosity has become a normal residence in his mind, a heavy part of his soul. Even so, it found itself conflicting with this unease he once thought self had silenced. He left that cage with eyes wide open—the fellow thought it would just vanish. Maybe such was true back home, but this land... he still needed to learn what all it may tell, to discover what all it held deep within. The want to know baited him to go forth and go forth he did; however, his body would not leap after those that had went. Not at all.

The wisp pulled and pushed. Juryoku obeyed it until his eyes could see the darkness peek over the edge just a bit. Rump then stuck to the ground as he now sat where thoughts could wander between the darkness and mountains looking off in the distance. If only they could tell him everything—tell him enough to subdue this beast in which chained him from going over this edge. His eyes, for the time being, rested on those that had yet to go down should they choose the fall. It appeared to be only equines, a hum following his breath. Of course, a part of him hoped someone will remain—make him feel like he was not alone or mistaken for his refusal. Though, why did he seek such a thing? Validation.

He had quite enough. The wisp that tugged at him left his whiskers curling close to the canine’s snout. He hasn’t given the magical wisp any definitive answer, rather hesitation for what could of been. “No, I will not,” he said in hushed tones. Would that suffice, or would it grow even more aggressive? Though it seems his question was directed at the wrong thing, his head turning toward the one that spoke to him. He wore a baffled look on his face, trying to understand what this equine meant by “the Gods”. Juryoku knew what such a title could tell, and what kind of souls spouted such words. His grandfather warned him, told his young soul not to mess with faith. “What Gods?” he questioned, rising back onto all four legs. Though as he done so, he realized the horse was rushing toward him. Not again. Not again...

“I will not!” he snarled as his body hurried and leaped out of the oncoming equine’s direction. The whiskered male stood and glanced over at the Rift. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. No, no, no, no. There were cracks—he could hear them echoing throughout his mind. “The Gods. The Gods!” he spat, shaking his head. Before, he only had fear to hold him back. Now, he had a full reason. Lungs took what all it could hold, breathing out to relax his nerves. No, he would just wait here. For what? Who knows. Juryoku looked at the last strangers of this gathering, seating himself a meter or two from the edge once more. The wisp still remains persuading him, beckoning him forth. A light sigh exited his lips as crimsons watched the magical matter try its hardest.


TABLE BY  ARGENT

@Ashen
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Equine 4yo Female, Short & Thin Immigrant 2 posts 0 Honor 65 ☪ Elle
#19
The pale woman is mesmerized by the small, floating orbs. They are winking in and out and looking like a dandelion's fluff drifting along the lazy summer wind except these were not innocent fluffs and this was not a lazy Sunday.

The dark eyed mare slowly comes to realize that the orbs are drifting closer, brushing agsisnt her cheek, exploring the tangles of her pallid hair. Cersei shakes them off at first with a scoff and toss her her head. Bothersome things! Then the sounds of the others reach her...

They balk and fight, they snatch at the wisps before slowly either being dragged or tossed over the rifts side. The first of the brave hearts was a wolf that seemed to need little urge and Cersei admires this in the beat. Split toes draw her away from the pesky orbs as they seemed to swarm near her head like a pest, picking up strands of her hair. "Okay, okay...OW! Stop!" The ivory snaps at the false dandelion fluff. A side eye is offered easily as she peers over the rift.

The soft orbs grab the ends of her tufted tail and lift it forward but she promptly snaps them off. "Okay, I'll go." Cersei is the only animal to have been blessed with a set of wings it seems. She goes to the edge and gives a small hop and take flight, following after the screams of the already tumbling mare that went over just before her.

Shit-

Cersei folds the feathered appendages and drops as quick as she can after the falling mare, knowing there was not much she could do to catch her (or even carry her) but Cersei would try nonetheless unless the orbs should intervene with that.

Soon, Cersei enters darkness, either from the natural world or of her quick descent...her large wings instinctively spread to catch her, feathers brushing against something unknown as she catches herself mid free fall to slow her entrance into the rift.
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
#20
They are the remnants of a world past: the living, sentient epitaphs to all that once stood here for Glory and God alike. They are every inch of rage, pain, triumph and sadness that culminated in that horrific event nearly a year ago, and they -- the wisps, individuals and yet supremely connected regardless -- are here for a reckoning of sorts. 

It is a gamble, truly, to trust such magic and to give oneself over to the unknown. The magic knows not what it asks but only that it must, feeding off of the souls and the energy of those who have answered their calls and in fairness, they are not the ones to know what might happen should the creatures choose faith and step into the beyond. Death, perhaps? A tragic fall to the bottomless depths only to be crushed by their own weight and the impact? 

There is only one way to find out. @Nyx: a child of time and remembered by many in the afterlife, presents himself at the cusp of the Rift as a willing sacrifice. His leap of faith is marked by darkness as the shadow of the chasm swallows him whole and he will feel himself falling inexorably, but equally endlessly. In those moments, aside from normal terror at falling to one’s death, he would feel nothing but intense peace. 

There are some who fight it, and their magical wisp guides would grow more furious in their efforts to bring them into the Rift. @Klaia is toppled in unceremoniously, and soon she would find herself surrounded in the darkness of the Rift. She falls, falls continuously with no end in sight, suspended in a place of nothing. 

@Ciaran, for all her care and need to assist those already claimed, would suffer similarly: all-encompassing darkness, her body falling without end, and the rushing emotion of clarity passing her by. Even @Ashen with her penchant for visions would be unable to see or hear the fates of those already enveloped in the darkness. She -- a Priest, no less -- drives forward with might and cause and seeks to take Juryoku with her: a miss. She’d be leaping alone as the canine remains on the cusp, untouched and still unwilling, while Ashen’s world would fold in on itself into darkness on all sides and angles, peace consuming her. 

For all their feathery flight, @Cersei's wings would do her no good. She too falls, exhumed into a perpetual drop of blackness with no end in sight. Once her wingtips clear the edges of the chasm she is at the mercy of the fall, powerless to fight against it. 

All those within the Rift would hear a deep and cataclysmic roar. The Rift has claimed them all.

Minutes pass. Perhaps hours, even? They fall, fall, fall with no end, no impact, no pain, no hope of rescue. And then, everything goes quiet, calm. They’ve all found each other in the darkness, somehow, and what once was the pure blackness of the world’s deepest chasm is now a faint, soft light. The wisps have returned and their mild glows cast shadows that surround the creatures who have now been suspended and held mid-air. There is no pain, no terror: they merely exist in a place of non-existence. Distant stars burn and die, signalling the passage of time. 

They’ve all been pulled together now mere inches from one another, mixed and mingled and held not in any semblance of order or faction based on age or species, but rather completely as one. 

Then, a vision: daylight and scenery open up around them all, spilling forth the image of a utopian place. Greenery and life abound, each living or sentient thing teeming with magic. The wisps are there too, though smaller and more at ease and rhythm with all that surrounds them. Equines graze and canines watch, their young mingled together as they play and cavort. It is what Ourania once was. 

The vision goes dark, replaced by a horror-scene of death and destruction. The last of the Old Gods falls from the sky in a fiery comet, striking the ocean just off shore in a smoking blast that sent rock, debris, dust and ash in all directions. It was Vesuvius, God of War and Chaos: the last of his kind and the last to fall; sheer hubris and unfettered stubbornness was not enough to save him. It was done then, the coup. Divinity is Dead. 

A voice echoes from the beyond, heard by all within the Rift watching the scene unfold. ”Death, is only the beginning.” The cosmos shift and the scene ends; the creatures are again bathed in blackness with only the soft glow of the aura wisps to light them. They are close enough to one another to look into each other’s eyes, to feel their closeness. 

The voice echoes more firmly this time, less paternal. ”Before you can live, first you must Heal. Heal the pain, the anguish, the war, the peace, the Rift… heal, and you may move forward. Mend the Rift between you, and see what riches might come.” Each creature would come in possession of a gleaming, powdered Essence: it twinkles and gives off the air of powerful magic. Should they use it on a fellow creature, it could temporarily mute the power of their Aura. 

The Rift has shown them enough, for today. One by one the creatures are ascended and returned to the edge of the Rift. When their feet touch terra firma, the intensity of the magic the Rift holds will be softened. Any who would re-enter would fall to their deaths. 





On the edge of the Rift and with zero knowledge of the fates of all those who had entered willingly or unwillingly, @Juryoku and @Lourdes both would see nothing and yet the voice -- deep and echoing from the depths before them -- would be audible. Their respective aura wisps will have grown quieter by now, their task at ushering them into the abyss all but utter failure. They simply float near their faces now, brushing against them now and again as a reminder that they are there with no intention of leaving. Each touch is not without merit, however: should skin come in contact with that magical sentience, both creatures would find their minds clouded and overcome by all manner of things relating to the visions taking place with the others: joy, peace, pain, betrayal, hatred… each a snippet and a mere flavor but equally felt. 

The voice holds sway still: ”Power was tested, and power failed. You’ve made your offering by remaining where you stand: it is you who should be sentry, providing the third side for the two who inevitably clash.” With the decree, the wisps that had bound themselves to the canine and equine would be harder bound still: it would take shape, an unearthly sort of creature, mildly illuminated and floating here or there. They could be absorbed into their bind or summoned at will: a visual representation of the witness they paid here at the edge of the Rift. Should their bearers call upon them for need, these Aura Shades would give a moment’s greater accuracy to their wielded magic. 

”Tell them,” it says with finality, ”to gather, to claim, to forge. The balance of Ourania is fragile and must be solidified, and without the Pantheon it is up to you, and them, to carry that burden. Conviction can be both an incredible and an oppressive thing.” All goes quiet. The air falls still again, a shroud of normalcy taking hold. 




Those who have been claimed by the Rift have been shown two visions, both pertaining to Ourania’s past. It is a glimpse of what was, while those who did not enter are left with the task of sharing what might be. 

It is time for the Rift to be mended, and for the creatures to reclaim and restart the cycle of power. Participants -- once informed by Juryoku and Lourdes -- may discuss this opportunity of coming together, species among species, to share what was seen within the Rift. Once the other Site Event threads have neared completion, a Final Chapter thread will be created for further participation in the event’s conclusion. 

All those claimed by the Rift have earned the item “Rift Essence”, while those remaining at the Rift’s edge have earned an “Aura Shade”.

Please respond to this thread in a timely manner to continue your character's presence. An announcement will be made with the Final Chapter thread! 
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Equine 99yo Female, Average & Average Native 34 posts 0 Honor 656 ☪ Pyro
#21
TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T KNOW

Now she is falling endlessly, a drop of rain rocketing towards the ground. It’s so dark however that she is not sure of the speed she is moving, if she’s moving at all. Tendrils of her mane flow behind her as she continues her downward spiral. She feels so alone and scared. The mare is overtaken by the same feelings of loss that inhabited her soul the night her mother died. Suddenly there is hope. A wolf comes to her rescue and her heart swells with gratitude. As the canine comes closer she attempts to speak but her voice seems to be lost to the shadows. The rescue does not succeed and she merely bounces off the woman and continues falling. Despair clutches her dark bay body again as she tries to scream but the darkness swallows everything. Then she can faintly hear a flap of wings, she looks up but fails to see anything in the dark. But she remembers a white pegasus from the surface and prays that that is her. She’s saved! Klaia waits…and waits... but rescue does not come. She is still falling in this darkness that seems to be made up of her worst fears. Here her loneliness has turned into loud silence that mocks her by yelling in her ears. Suddenly this silence is interrupted by a bone chilling roar. She realizes she’s alone here with some being, alone and falling to her doom. She’s going to die, isn’t she? This is when she starts crying. I don’t want to die. Please don’t let me die. She thinks erratically. What actions had brought her here? What had she done to deserve this? Ninety-nine years and she has done so little, she has been a footprint in the sand that now the ocean is reclaiming. She has done nothing, been no one. Like her mother she will just fade into the night. And that is what truly scares her the most about losing her life. I’ll do anything…please just don’t let me die alone in the dark. She tries to scream again but the sound is muted by the wind rushing past her ears. Warm tears crawl up her face, defying gravity.

And then she is floating. The wisps return and provide a little light so she can see the others that the Rift has claimed. She would search their eyes to see if they had been through the same ordeal but she is still in shock. The mare is suspended in air and yet she shakes violently with fear. Her tear streaked face shines in the light of the wisps. The force seems to bring the creatures closer and Klaia squeezes herself into a tight ball to avoid touching anyone. For the first time in her life she wishes she were alone. She cannot bear to face these strangers in such a messed-up state. A vision is shoved in front of her eyes. It is peaceful and light, with canines and equines coexisting. She tries to stand but the grassy ground is merely an illusion. The realization she is still in the Rift causes her heart to sink to her hooves. Would she never get to see this utopia where little foals and fillies get to run around with young pups? The vision then changes and she realizes she was not seeing the future but the past. A past she had taken for granted and then ignored when the time came to fight for it. That must be it. The gods are punishing her for being a bystander, a coward, a leech of peace and fleer of war. If she threw up in the rift would it fall to the bottom? Because she is feeling sick to her stomach.

She sees the smoke, the ashes, the dying god and her throat closes. It is almost as if she’s really choking on the atmosphere of pain and destruction. The voice scares her, booming inside her brain. Klaia tries to run backwards only to realizes she is still on air. Death is only the beginning? Does that mean they are still going to be killed? The vision is gone and she is back in the darkness with only strangers. At least she will not die alone. She cannot find her voice but tries to form a forlorn smile. This is the end. Closing her eyes, the mare waits for the darkness to take her meaningless life. But the voice comes again and this time it takes about life. A rift is to be mended, not the physical one but the one that separates the species. The command feels heavy on her shoulder. How could someone like her help this cause at all? Could she really make a change? Right now, she just felt so powerless, so frail like she might break if something touches her. A sparkling piece of essence flies towards the group and she gets her own small portion. She accepts it with a bit of hesitation. The equine cannot imagine being part of such an important task. Maybe she could talk to someone to tell them they have the wrong horse. Suddenly the other creatures begin to float upwards. As each citizen is picked up by invisible strings the anxiety within her grows. When she is finally returned to the surface she crumples to the ground, exhausted and emotionally worn out. She does not dare to lift her head to look at the others. All she can do is lay there and force her lungs to suck air in and push it back out. What the hell has she gotten herself into?

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Canine 312yo Male, Tall & Thin Immigrant 37 posts 0 Honor 700 ☪ Eclair
#22

It was only he and a grey pegasus. He watched the darkness consume the pale equine to go in last. With no signs of what has come to those in which dove, silence pooled the area and slight worry tugged at his thoughts. The wisp that agitated him throughout all this seemed to allow peace to take its form. He looked at it, giving it a little nudge to ensure everything was fine. Once the magical matter brushed against his cheek in response, Juryoku’s gaze settled on the one other soul present here. What would become of them now that all the others were gone?

His body grew restless, but his mind found its peace once more. Deep reds hid behind closing lids with his chin tucking into his chest. The gentle touch of his aura wisp kept slumber at bay. Each thought crowding his mind settled and cleared, leaving only emptiness to fill its space. Though when the wisp brushed against his face this time, a vision flickered above his thoughts. The Rift took his sight once more, a surprised mask present upon his features. “Wha—“ Another touch and more scenes fluttered throughout his mind. The phenomenon startled him, shaking his head as if something deep inside him had caused this—that something finally broke. It was when he focused on what these fragments had shown did the bewilderment fade away.

What caught his attention were the last bits of the vision to flash before his eyes. A being, one seeping of a divine power. They lie in ruins with vanquish thundering over their form. Before he could paint a clearer picture with these pieces he has been shown, it all appeared to end at that very scene. So this is what you hide. The vice you have done. He took a breath while a summer breeze swept through. Something twisted within him, a certain disgust ravaging his content. Juryoku eyed his wisp, looking for it to explain further—to tell him the entire story. Alas, it did not speak, but a voice did resonate from the darkness below. The talk of healing, fixing what has been severed. The whiskered fellow hummed, staggering onto all fours.

He took a few steps away from the edge while gathering and sorting through his thoughts. Juryoku’s musing would be paused by a voice flowing into his ears once more. It seemed to speak directly to the pegasus and him. The third side? The canine let another hum go at the idea, unsure if he could provide such a thing. Of course he could, he just liked to overthink things. His attention was grabbed by the illumination of his wisp, tilting his head at the form it has taken. The strange creature would place itself onto the back of his neck, curling around him before vanishing. He could still feel its presence, calm and awaiting.

Ears perked at the voice’s final words. Nothing would sound from him as crimsons took in the sky. Once quietness returned, Juryoku would give a simple nod of his head, accepting what the voice has told. He sat back down and waited. It wasn’t long until one of the jumpers reappeared, although the mare collapsed once back on the surface. Concern sparked within him, wanting to know what truly went on down there. He remained where he was despite feeling the need to check on the mare. Others were now emerging as well—the emptiness of this area becoming occupied again. He looked over each soul, a little relief falling on to him in knowing there was no true danger to come from the fall.

“It seems some of you have filth beneath your hooves and paws, so too this land,” he chuckled as bits and pieces of the vision flipped through his mind. “Since your divinities are no more, harmony is of you, us, to uphold. There is a chance to overcome, to learn from the past and fix what has been overburden and broken. Should betterment come for this land, or shall history repeat itself?” he told, putting forth the question to provoke some thought for what has been said and done here. Juryoku looks to the dappled grey pegasus to see if she had anything to add from what the voice had told him and her. He then scanned over each stranger, wondering what any of them may be thinking or have to say.

The monochrome canine could not see why peace and unity would be rejected by any. What was there to achieve? Why must blood be the sole thing to sate the hunger?


TABLE BY  ARGENT
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Canine 1365yo Male, Tall & Average Native 18 posts 0 Honor 0 ☪ Scamander
#23

Darkness reigned, an illusion that crept upon the periphery of his mind, a shadowscape of images that rose and fell like the tide upon a barren shore. He had leapt, had fallen into oblivion, and yet, he did not fear the fall. How long had he existed in this ruin, a wraith in the mists that neither stood out, nor attempted to break away from its shackles? It was foolish, to trust so blindly, ramifications of these choices so long ago made. The consequences still lingered on, painful and stiffling, making him both regret who he had been and what he had allowed to happen. It was a burden, these memories, so soft and clear, like gazing upon a mirror into another world. They were his most treasured possessions but, every day, they tore him apart. Maybe he did not fear finding the end of the Rift, for perhaps, he could forget them, finally be free of the poison in his blood that made each pulse a fatal wound. Yet, in that moment, from that instant where Nyx dared to just... release his hold on the edge, a weightlessness filled him.


The void rushed forward to greet him, slipping beneath the fissures, the broken iron, and for the first time in an eon, their sharp edges did not cut too deep. Infinity stretched on, and in that moment, aeons passed as grains of sand, falling upon his senses, and for a blissful moment he knew nothing at all. Perhaps this was what it meant to die? Through time and space he knew he was not upon Ourania any longer, in some void of the in-between, accompanied only by those who took the plunge. Nyx could feel their their harried breath, some, more wary than others, their essence blinding and violent, an enraged spark that danced amidst the dying stars. And then, just as suddenly, his isolation was had ended, leaving behind a ray of intimacy the phoenix had not experienced in an age.


Equine, canid, they held counsel in a way that had not been truth since the final god fell. Even then, he remembered the suspicion, the building discord that would one day write the beginning of the end. The bonds that held them close were tightening, forcing them to see, to truly gaze upon the eyes of their enemy, for none had truly known another in all these years of war. The enemy, the wolves, they had always been the other, not truly the same as the Ouren Keepers. Nyx had never believed them to be monsters, yet, they had meant very little to him, their lives, insignificant in his ambition to fulfil lost desires. His gaze did not linger upon them however, encompassed by an image he had long forgotten. Ourania, young and untarnished, his limbs touched by the phantom caress of her whimsy, her maiden shaw, yet worn to that of the mother, and then, the barren bosom of the crone. Light warm and blinding, the earth singing its hymn that had fallen so very quiet in the last aeons of his life. It was a time, when the Godborn had existed, when their children had prospered and there had yet to feel the sin leech in as a poisonous miasma upon the ground. The kingdom of wise king solomon. He could not reach out and touch them, he could not greet faces he had nearly forgotten so many aeons ago, for theirs was a world opposite of his, spectators merely.


And then, it was gone, taken in ash and fire, a husk scorched. The warning came, but, Nyx felt... nothing. He had long come to his conclusion, no lost spirit of time would return that which had been taken from him. Their disquiet felt cold, distant, an image he could see just on the edge of his eye, yet never full on. Impersonal. Slowly, the world went to right, and his moment of weightlessness vanished, returning him to the fate he had known he could not escape. One, knelt upon the earth, weeping, and Nyx wandered what it was like to care so much. Once, he had cared, too deeply, too fully. His limbs felt ghost like, disconnected to himself, pale crimson eyes fleeting amongst the faces, drawn to one he had seen in passing. He too proclaimed their wrong doings, only for motion to begin anew. Nyx walked. "Ourania is dead."


-Exit-

"Speaking" | Thinking
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Canine 9999yo Genderfluid, Tall & Bulky Native 23 posts 0 Honor 99,395 ☪ Staff
#24


An Elemental Orb has been discovered!
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JUMP: