[complete] I don’t think the world is sold on just doing what we’re told; fairies

[Leilan]

The darkness spreads and spreads, and then the eclipse is full. It happened during the last Alliance, when I had just arrived in Beqanna, so it’s not entirely new to me. Neither is darkness - my eyes adjust and I see perfectly fine, aided further by the heat signals that I receive when I choose to.

The darkness lasts, and that starts to concern me. Slowly at first, but when the minutes stretch into hours, I know something is amiss.

If not for me, then for those who live on the Isle. They have a hard time finding food already, but if the sun is blocked, the cold will creep up on them - most of them anyway. Me and my direct kin, at least those who inherited something of cold resistance or heat generation, we’ll survive. But there are fewer still who live in the cold north, and this is going to ruin the last of them who don’t have traits to help them.

This darkness means eternal winter on the Isle, and I wish I could share my cold resistance.

There is but one beacon in the dark now; the aurora lights are hardly there, but there’s still a blue flame up north, near the magically unfrozen lake. There is the only magic of the Isle, and it does nothing but being pretty.

I need the land to be more alive. Perhaps not in the way Straia had mentioned, but one can try.

I’m in a hurry when I wing myself to the Mountain, land somewhere on the lowest of it’s slopes, and canter myself almost recklessly to the top. Of course, halfway through I have to slow down, but it’s nothing but emergency that drives me, and I take advantage of claws when I need the grip.

I breath loudly and take long breaths to stabilize myself when I make it to the top. This is the first time I’ve actually ran up the Mountain, and that -mostly- in my horse shape. I don’t have the breath to call out, but there’s something that the Alliance awarded me with.

I’d like your help with something, if you could. I’m not even sure if this is within their power - or maybe they’re too busy figuring out what to do about the lasting eclipse, or it takes all their energy. Or fighting the figures that had brought it, that I’ve found creeping down below on my flight here.

I myself cannot do it - not on my own anyway. I’m an embodiment of ice, and it’s the opposite that we need.

there’s an ocean in between your heart and me

Here for a land request - to give the flaming tree (or something/someone else) the ability to protect Icicle Isle’s inhabitants from the (worst of the) cold so they don't freeze to death in the darkness, please! @[Nashua] will be helping too, but he's a little preoccupied with birthing a monster in his current timeline, so he couldn't quite make it up the Mountain (:

[Chemdog]

Leilan’s snowy Isle had been the only place Chem liked to haunt on a semi-permanent basis. Still a more nomadic than stationary by nature, he feels like that may be changing soon. He’s been moving in the idly across the common lands for the last few days; since the heavy, unnatural darkness set in. He’s been rather dreading returning to the cold without any sun. His thick coat protects him from the real biting cold, but it was still rather unpleasant to exist in day in and day out…without day.

Today he decides to head for the Isle now. Time means nothing, it could be the middle of the night or mid-day, it all bleeds together now. The journey to the Isle is more difficult in the pitch black, taking him longer to pick his way across the landscape. Suddenly he’s struck with a familiar smell – it’s Leilan’s scent. He’s headed away from the Isle and he has only recently come through. Where could he be headed then? Alone? Chem sets off after his trail before even reaching the tundra and soon discovers the stallion is headed for the Mountain. He must be up to something interesting then, Chem ponders, smiling to himself.

Well perhaps he will want a little help.

He heads up the slope after him. A treacherous journey to do on hurried feet, but Chemdog is a sturdy brute of a stallion. His hooves find easy purchase even among the shifting rocks and thin paths winding up the side of the dangerous peak. He reaches the top, catching his breath and following his nose to the silhouette of Leilan. He heard the request as he approached, which echoes across the vastness of the summit, and like Leilan, he waits for an answer. They can catch up after.

[Wysteria Fairy]

It is a good request. It is the sort of request the faeries actually like; the sort that is useful and unselfish, as much as anything can be unselfish. And yet, they do not come, but then again, it is hard to understand exactly when and why they do or do not come. Perhaps, this time, they simply cannot.

***
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