09-05-2018, 06:41 PM
They woke as they had every day since birth. Nose to tail, sides pressed close to one another in the security of knowing exactly who had your back. Brothers, twins, a tighter bond they had yet to learn. Life had been kind to them in their first two years. They had not known a father, but despite this they had a family. Friends to explore with, a mother who did her best by them. Their island home was an endless trove of new discoveries, full of rich food and easy days. It was a haven to the two boys born of ice and fire, who knew that they would be together until the day they died.
Perhaps it was this easiness that brought them to the Dark magic's attention. Too much happiness, not enough strife, made for a dull story, after all. There must be conflict to make the good times worthwhile. Maybe that is why, on a perfect tropical morning, with no other thoughts than what was for breakfast, a trickle of dust darker than the sand beneath it flowed towards the pair with grim intent. Imbued with the essence of Carnage, it wound its way towards them unseen. Two boys, one fair one firey. One so clearly exceptional, with his glimmering blue sheen and wings of milky leather. The other, not so much. True, he was larger and colored like a wildfire. Still, it was clear that gifts had been bestowed unevenly by the fickle fairies on the day of their conception. It was a story as old as time, waiting for just the right nudge to begin.
As cunning as a creeping sickness, the choice was made. A quick worm of dust flowed forward decisively. Fast as thought it surged forward to penetrate the unblemished skin of the wingless colt. Raul reared with the sting of it. The pain was that like the little ants on the island gave when their nests were disturbed. A violent, throbbing ache that radiated from somewhere behind his shoulder. Santana looked at him with sympathetic concern. "Something sting you?" He asked knowingly. As inquisitive as a he was, Santana was no stranger to irritated creatures expressing their displeasure with him. His buckskin brother bent his neck to look behind, searching for some tell-tale insect or thorny branch grazing his back. No such evidence was to be found. No visible marking, just the lingering ache of a puncture. "I don't... I don't think so? I don't know, can you see anything?" The pinto boy looked over his back carefully, but found the same empty canvas of skin. A shrug lifted his shoulders briefly.
Raul's attention was drawn unaware to the water that surged and receded yards away from where they had been lounging only moments before. Beautiful, glassy salt water. Before he knew it was what he wanted, his feet already pointed to the rolling surf, two steps forward before his brother realized they were moving. They were halfway to the water's edge when a deep cough pulled itself from the buckskin boy's lungs. The air didn't seem to want to return once expelled. Sand shifted beneath their hooves as Santana pushed to his brother's side. "What's wrong? Why can't you breath? Are you choking on something?" The questions continued unhelpfully as Raul continued to gag for a breath. Whatever had stung him must be more powerful than he'd thought if he was reacting like this.
Santana jolted in place as a voice reached them through their distress. Raul simply bent to his knees, weak with the deprivation being forced on him. Where a second ago there had been only empty shoreline now stood a steel grey stallion. He was not so impressive on first glance, until they were able to meet his eyes. There they witnessed the truth of his nature. This was the one mare's told their foals stories of when they misbehaved. The one who lurked at the edges of Beqanna lore, filling each dark corner of history with his own particular brand of providence. This was Carnage.
And Carnage was speaking to only one of them. Santana found himself froze, by natural or magical means he couldn't tell. Only that his twin knelt choking while he could only watch, and listen.
Raul convulsed as the Dark God spoke. He could feel it now, setting fire to every vein. A minute fraction of a damned land had lodged itself within him, promising nothing but a painful death if he dared not comply. Worse yet, the demise of his brother who seemed spelled in place while Carnage laid out his first instruction. Pangea, he had to find Pangea. The basic idea lodged in his brain, alongside just how painful death by suffocation must be. How long and drawn out. Words held less meaning as a buzzing filled his ears, eyes tunneled in until all he saw was the dull grey and black pebble now revolving between them. Unremarkable in all ways, except for that of it's origin. Though the twins did not know it, the small, smooth piece of stone had traveled far to be here. It and it's brothers had began atop the Mountain, and this was not a thing easily forgotten, especially by stone. In mimicry of the pinch of dust which had invaded him earlier, the pebble glided towards him, intent on it's purpose. Opposite of where the dust had entered, the pebble pushed skin and muscle aside until it rested deep within his chest. Laying against the breathless buckskin's heart, it throbbed in time with it's own pulse, playing a counterpoint harmony to the poison ash that now ran in his veins. Two conflicting pieces of earth, fighting for supremacy.
As quickly as he'd appeared, the god vanished once more, leaving two brothers on a shore, fates much murkier than they had been only an hour ago. Raul forced his way to the water, knowing already that it was his one chance at survival. Santana followed, legs finally released from their bondage. "Raul, you can't, not by yourself. I'll come with, as far as we have to go." The winged boy promised, not knowing what he was agreeing to. The flame-maned boy only half heard as his face plunged into the glass waters of the sea. For the first time in far too long, he inhaled and breath expanded his lungs. For moment it was all he could do, just breathing in and out until his vision stabilized and the buzzing left his ears. His muzzled lift experimentally from the cool water, only to return when he realized that submerged was the only way he'd be breathing for the time being. He did not want his brother following him into danger. He did not want to be responsible for their mother waking to find not just one, but both of her sons gone, just as she had been for so long. They had each other in that time. She shouldn't have to handle it alone either. It was a reach, trying to explain this all through facial expressions and snorted bubbles. He should have known his brother would be too stubborn to listen anyway.
They stayed ashore as long as they could, until the foreign matter tugging on Raul's blood grew too insistent. They waded out together until feet couldn't reach the sand any longer. Santana kissed his brother's cheek in good luck, frighteningly quiet now that it seemed their path was clear. His draconic wingspan spread over them, flapping hard until he lifted from the brine and into the cloudy skies above. From there it was a matter of keeping pace with one another, swimming and soaring in tandem. Santana marked their direction by the red smudge of Raul's mane beneath the waves. Despite himself, Raul felt no small measure of relief treading water in his brother's shadow. Together, they could take on the world, and just might have to.
It became more of a matter of endurance than anything else as they traveled further and further from shore, no other land in sight. It wasn't long before even the craggy shoreline of Ischia vanished to the horizon, leaving the pair striking out on the promise of an untrustworthy deity. Santana's wings ached as they never had before when after several hours of travel they sighted the ominous hulk of Pangea. It loomed before them like a sleeping giant, waiting patiently to swallow them whole. Raul lifted his head from the water more frequently as they approached. This was where he needed to be, the stones in his chest insisted. This was their destination. The sea began to flow more choppily around them as they approached, pushed by a rising wind. At last the sea expelled them, the wind fighting hard to prevent Santana from touching the damned soil. Raul stood waiting for him to land, able to breath again as soon as his hooves touch Pangean sand. It was a tidy magic, the way it had made it's meaning clear. No, he could not have disagreed with it if he had fought like hell to do so. Others stood nearby, bearing the same vaguely hunted expression that he knew his own eyes held.
Santana dropped to the beach with an exhausted thump, only to scream and lift his feet in a pained high step. Raul raced to his twin's side just as the painted colt flung himself skyward once more. He did not feel anything beyond a general foreboding now they he stood where he was meant to be. Santana swooped in a low circle, landing with much more caution this time around. Again, his feet touched the sand for mere seconds before he was forced back up, away from the land. Pangea would not hold him. Raul couldn't watch his brother hurt himself a third time. "Tana, go home! I'll be okay, I swear. Tell Mom... tell her I'll see you all soon. Please Santana, go home." He cried out as the winged half of their duo drew slow circles above his head, misery plain on both their faces. Santana recognized the tone in Raul's voice, knew it meant that negotiations were over. And he was tired, so tired already. He couldn't land here, and wasn't all to sure he could make the flight home without falling into the sea like an exhausted stone. Still, he knew he was out of options. He made a final pass before taking off the way they'd come. "Gods keep you, Raul." Was his final call, feeling the hypocrisy as the habitual words slid from his tongue. The gods were why he was leaving his brother in this forsaken place at all, with the burden of explaining to their mother where her other son had gone. Damn the gods.
Raul watched as his brother's pale form melted into the stormy horizon, praying he reached Ischia safely. Praying for his own safety, though he did not know whom he was hoping would hear him. The pulse in his chest pounded it's unnatural rhythm, thrumming a promise as he stood alone on the shore.
Perhaps it was this easiness that brought them to the Dark magic's attention. Too much happiness, not enough strife, made for a dull story, after all. There must be conflict to make the good times worthwhile. Maybe that is why, on a perfect tropical morning, with no other thoughts than what was for breakfast, a trickle of dust darker than the sand beneath it flowed towards the pair with grim intent. Imbued with the essence of Carnage, it wound its way towards them unseen. Two boys, one fair one firey. One so clearly exceptional, with his glimmering blue sheen and wings of milky leather. The other, not so much. True, he was larger and colored like a wildfire. Still, it was clear that gifts had been bestowed unevenly by the fickle fairies on the day of their conception. It was a story as old as time, waiting for just the right nudge to begin.
As cunning as a creeping sickness, the choice was made. A quick worm of dust flowed forward decisively. Fast as thought it surged forward to penetrate the unblemished skin of the wingless colt. Raul reared with the sting of it. The pain was that like the little ants on the island gave when their nests were disturbed. A violent, throbbing ache that radiated from somewhere behind his shoulder. Santana looked at him with sympathetic concern. "Something sting you?" He asked knowingly. As inquisitive as a he was, Santana was no stranger to irritated creatures expressing their displeasure with him. His buckskin brother bent his neck to look behind, searching for some tell-tale insect or thorny branch grazing his back. No such evidence was to be found. No visible marking, just the lingering ache of a puncture. "I don't... I don't think so? I don't know, can you see anything?" The pinto boy looked over his back carefully, but found the same empty canvas of skin. A shrug lifted his shoulders briefly.
Raul's attention was drawn unaware to the water that surged and receded yards away from where they had been lounging only moments before. Beautiful, glassy salt water. Before he knew it was what he wanted, his feet already pointed to the rolling surf, two steps forward before his brother realized they were moving. They were halfway to the water's edge when a deep cough pulled itself from the buckskin boy's lungs. The air didn't seem to want to return once expelled. Sand shifted beneath their hooves as Santana pushed to his brother's side. "What's wrong? Why can't you breath? Are you choking on something?" The questions continued unhelpfully as Raul continued to gag for a breath. Whatever had stung him must be more powerful than he'd thought if he was reacting like this.
You have been chosen
Santana jolted in place as a voice reached them through their distress. Raul simply bent to his knees, weak with the deprivation being forced on him. Where a second ago there had been only empty shoreline now stood a steel grey stallion. He was not so impressive on first glance, until they were able to meet his eyes. There they witnessed the truth of his nature. This was the one mare's told their foals stories of when they misbehaved. The one who lurked at the edges of Beqanna lore, filling each dark corner of history with his own particular brand of providence. This was Carnage.
And Carnage was speaking to only one of them. Santana found himself froze, by natural or magical means he couldn't tell. Only that his twin knelt choking while he could only watch, and listen.
Raul convulsed as the Dark God spoke. He could feel it now, setting fire to every vein. A minute fraction of a damned land had lodged itself within him, promising nothing but a painful death if he dared not comply. Worse yet, the demise of his brother who seemed spelled in place while Carnage laid out his first instruction. Pangea, he had to find Pangea. The basic idea lodged in his brain, alongside just how painful death by suffocation must be. How long and drawn out. Words held less meaning as a buzzing filled his ears, eyes tunneled in until all he saw was the dull grey and black pebble now revolving between them. Unremarkable in all ways, except for that of it's origin. Though the twins did not know it, the small, smooth piece of stone had traveled far to be here. It and it's brothers had began atop the Mountain, and this was not a thing easily forgotten, especially by stone. In mimicry of the pinch of dust which had invaded him earlier, the pebble glided towards him, intent on it's purpose. Opposite of where the dust had entered, the pebble pushed skin and muscle aside until it rested deep within his chest. Laying against the breathless buckskin's heart, it throbbed in time with it's own pulse, playing a counterpoint harmony to the poison ash that now ran in his veins. Two conflicting pieces of earth, fighting for supremacy.
As quickly as he'd appeared, the god vanished once more, leaving two brothers on a shore, fates much murkier than they had been only an hour ago. Raul forced his way to the water, knowing already that it was his one chance at survival. Santana followed, legs finally released from their bondage. "Raul, you can't, not by yourself. I'll come with, as far as we have to go." The winged boy promised, not knowing what he was agreeing to. The flame-maned boy only half heard as his face plunged into the glass waters of the sea. For the first time in far too long, he inhaled and breath expanded his lungs. For moment it was all he could do, just breathing in and out until his vision stabilized and the buzzing left his ears. His muzzled lift experimentally from the cool water, only to return when he realized that submerged was the only way he'd be breathing for the time being. He did not want his brother following him into danger. He did not want to be responsible for their mother waking to find not just one, but both of her sons gone, just as she had been for so long. They had each other in that time. She shouldn't have to handle it alone either. It was a reach, trying to explain this all through facial expressions and snorted bubbles. He should have known his brother would be too stubborn to listen anyway.
They stayed ashore as long as they could, until the foreign matter tugging on Raul's blood grew too insistent. They waded out together until feet couldn't reach the sand any longer. Santana kissed his brother's cheek in good luck, frighteningly quiet now that it seemed their path was clear. His draconic wingspan spread over them, flapping hard until he lifted from the brine and into the cloudy skies above. From there it was a matter of keeping pace with one another, swimming and soaring in tandem. Santana marked their direction by the red smudge of Raul's mane beneath the waves. Despite himself, Raul felt no small measure of relief treading water in his brother's shadow. Together, they could take on the world, and just might have to.
It became more of a matter of endurance than anything else as they traveled further and further from shore, no other land in sight. It wasn't long before even the craggy shoreline of Ischia vanished to the horizon, leaving the pair striking out on the promise of an untrustworthy deity. Santana's wings ached as they never had before when after several hours of travel they sighted the ominous hulk of Pangea. It loomed before them like a sleeping giant, waiting patiently to swallow them whole. Raul lifted his head from the water more frequently as they approached. This was where he needed to be, the stones in his chest insisted. This was their destination. The sea began to flow more choppily around them as they approached, pushed by a rising wind. At last the sea expelled them, the wind fighting hard to prevent Santana from touching the damned soil. Raul stood waiting for him to land, able to breath again as soon as his hooves touch Pangean sand. It was a tidy magic, the way it had made it's meaning clear. No, he could not have disagreed with it if he had fought like hell to do so. Others stood nearby, bearing the same vaguely hunted expression that he knew his own eyes held.
Santana dropped to the beach with an exhausted thump, only to scream and lift his feet in a pained high step. Raul raced to his twin's side just as the painted colt flung himself skyward once more. He did not feel anything beyond a general foreboding now they he stood where he was meant to be. Santana swooped in a low circle, landing with much more caution this time around. Again, his feet touched the sand for mere seconds before he was forced back up, away from the land. Pangea would not hold him. Raul couldn't watch his brother hurt himself a third time. "Tana, go home! I'll be okay, I swear. Tell Mom... tell her I'll see you all soon. Please Santana, go home." He cried out as the winged half of their duo drew slow circles above his head, misery plain on both their faces. Santana recognized the tone in Raul's voice, knew it meant that negotiations were over. And he was tired, so tired already. He couldn't land here, and wasn't all to sure he could make the flight home without falling into the sea like an exhausted stone. Still, he knew he was out of options. He made a final pass before taking off the way they'd come. "Gods keep you, Raul." Was his final call, feeling the hypocrisy as the habitual words slid from his tongue. The gods were why he was leaving his brother in this forsaken place at all, with the burden of explaining to their mother where her other son had gone. Damn the gods.
Raul watched as his brother's pale form melted into the stormy horizon, praying he reached Ischia safely. Praying for his own safety, though he did not know whom he was hoping would hear him. The pulse in his chest pounded it's unnatural rhythm, thrumming a promise as he stood alone on the shore.
It's just begun, just begun, just begun