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shattered into ash [flamevein] - Cress - 09-04-2016
<center><style> #whatchuknowabtdat {background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(31,29,27,0) 0%, rgba(16,15,14,1) 100%); background: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(31,29,27,0)), color-stop(100%,rgba(16,15,14,1))); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(31,29,27,0) 0%,rgba(16,15,14,1) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(31,29,27,0) 0%,rgba(16,15,14,1) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(31,29,27,0) 0%,rgba(16,15,14,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(31,29,27,0) 0%,rgba(16,15,14,1) 100%); width: 539px; height: 150px; position: relative; top: 570px;} #maniknoallabtdat {background: rgb(114,92,80); background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(114,92,80,1) 0%, rgba(9,8,7,1) 46%, rgba(1,1,1,1) 50%, rgba(8,7,6,1) 53%, rgba(60,48,42,1) 76%, rgba(42,34,30,1) 87%, rgba(21,17,15,1) 100%); background: -webkit-gradient(linear, left top, left bottom, color-stop(0%,rgba(114,92,80,1)), color-stop(46%,rgba(9,8,7,1)), color-stop(50%,rgba(1,1,1,1)), color-stop(53%,rgba(8,7,6,1)), color-stop(76%,rgba(60,48,42,1)), color-stop(87%,rgba(42,34,30,1)), color-stop(100%,rgba(21,17,15,1))); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(114,92,80,1) 0%,rgba(9,8,7,1) 46%,rgba(1,1,1,1) 50%,rgba(8,7,6,1) 53%,rgba(60,48,42,1) 76%,rgba(42,34,30,1) 87%,rgba(21,17,15,1) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(114,92,80,1) 0%,rgba(9,8,7,1) 46%,rgba(1,1,1,1) 50%,rgba(8,7,6,1) 53%,rgba(60,48,42,1) 76%,rgba(42,34,30,1) 87%,rgba(21,17,15,1) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(114,92,80,1) 0%,rgba(9,8,7,1) 46%,rgba(1,1,1,1) 50%,rgba(8,7,6,1) 53%,rgba(60,48,42,1) 76%,rgba(42,34,30,1) 87%,rgba(21,17,15,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(114,92,80,1) 0%,rgba(9,8,7,1) 46%,rgba(1,1,1,1) 50%,rgba(8,7,6,1) 53%,rgba(60,48,42,1) 76%,rgba(42,34,30,1) 87%,rgba(21,17,15,1) 100%); width: 540px; padding: 20px;} #whatupdoe {background-color: #100a08; border-radius: 500px; position: relative; bottom: 35px; margin-bottom: -10px; border: 1px solid black; padding: 2px; font-size: 7pt; font-family: helvetica, arial, verdana; text-transform: uppercase; color: #5d4942; font-weight: 700;}</style> <div style="border:1px solid black; width: 580px;"><div id="maniknoallabtdat"><div style="width: 539px; border: 1px solid black;"><div style="background-image:url('https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/4a/b4/16/4ab416ae028b2fa4c836001f5199b453.jpg'); width:539px; height:720px;"><div id="whatchuknowabtdat"></div></div><div style="background-color:#100f0e; width: 499px; padding: 20px; color: #5d4942; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 12pt; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica, arial, verdana;"><center><div id="whatupdoe">all that we have amassed sits before us, shattered into ash</div></center><i>Magic still reigns on the Mountain.</i>
That’s what Eight had said, and she has to cling to that belief. She has to believe that her flames will return to her, if only briefly, and her healing as well, if she can only brave the Mountain’s steep face and reach the summit. Perhaps she doesn’t even have to reach the summit; maybe if she stands near the base, or even only partway up the cliffs she’ll be able to touch her powers again and she won’t feel quite so alone anymore. She needs her flames as much as she needs to draw in breath—they are a part of her and she feels naked without them, stripped down to absolute nothingness.
She stares at the intimidating heights only a for a moment before beginning the hike. She knows that it will be steep and nearly impossible, but she has to try regardless, for her own selfish sake. The air grows thinner as she climbs, following paths that are nearly invisible, and it grows colder around her, but she can feel herself heating up the higher she goes. Her fire—returning to her, slowly but surely, warming her up from deep within her chest. She smiles to herself, pleased even though exhaustion is beginning to threaten her.
It is only when she is nearing the summit and the fire is raging in her throat that the all too familiar pains begin.
Within the hour she is welcoming a small, horned black filly into the world, screaming as the small but sharp horn tears at her on the way out. She is almost too exhausted to heal herself after the birth, but somehow she manages it while cleaning the girl, warming her by blowing gusts of heat upon her coat. She wasn’t supposed to give birth here; she really won’t be able to stay long now, but she’s going to enjoy it while she can. Her and her horned girl.
“Rhaenyra,” she breathes as she curls herself around her filly. For now, neither of them stands, and she cannot help but blow a protective ring of fire around them so they can rest safely. If magic runs free here, they are not necessarily safe here. But Cress is tired, and the girl is brand new to the world; they both need to rest.
Will Flamevein finally find her? <center><div style="margin-top: 20px; font-size: 15pt; letter-spacing: 5px; text-shadow: -1px -1px black; font-family: times; color: #5d4942;">cress</div><div style="font-size: 7pt;">oxytocin x kindling</div></center></div></div></div></center>
Cress isn't choosing a temp trait, but Rhaenyra is going to take a horn as hers.