Ruhr
Yesterday, 05:38 PM
As though She knew he was beginning to doubt, the Moon reached out to him. As Ruhr slept in the shadow of the cloud trees, he felt Her touch against him, cool and heavy, a silvery weight that surrounded him on all sides, swallowing up his dreams until the world around him became nothing but mist and magic.
The world that She showed him was stranger than anything he could imagine. He recognized nothing, saw creatures and landscapes for which he had no name. She showed him the future, and as he felt himself slipping back into his body, She showed him how very far away it was.
Lifetimes.
Stratosians are long-lived, but as he watched the vision unfold, Ruhr knew that he was to be gifted again with Her immortality. He would live to see it, She told him; he is to be gifted with something infinitely precious.
He is to be gifted time.
As he feels himself settle back into his body and the dream begins to fade around the edges, She shows him what he must do to ensure Her arrival, how to gather Her chosen, the acolytes. She shows him the first acolyte, and tells him what to say to show them the path.
When Ruhr awakes, it is with a refreshed sense of purpose. There is a smile on his feathered face as he makes his way to a nearby stream. He washes the dust from his dappled sides, and grooms the brightly colored feathers of his wings. His mane and the sunset-colored feathers within it are still damp as he climbs back up the creekbed. Using a flap of his wings to ascend rather than pull up with his weak foreleg is second nature, and though his movements are quick and sharp, they do not convey weakness.
Night soon fals, and with it comes the first acolyte, just like She had shown him.
Ruhr introduces himself to the dark haired stranger, who glances up at the moon with one orange eye and one of electric blue. As the Moon had said, he agrees to gaze into the pool with Ruhr with little persuasion, skeptical but intrigued at the idea of magic from the Moon.
As the first acolyte stares into the pool of reflected Moonlight, Ruhr looks up at the bright glowing presence in the sky. He knows what comes next, had seen himself act in the vision. He reaches forward, then hesitates.
The winged stallion beside him senses the movement, and turns away from the divination pool, a look of confusion on his handsome face.
Ruhr turns him to stone.
Stone as pale as the Moon above, and glowing like the magic that passes from the horned stallion and into Ruhr. It settles in his chest, as cold as the Moon’s touch, and the last trace of doubt in Her plan is burnt away by the cold moonlight in his veins.
The stallion - Malik - remains perfectly still. Ruhr reaches out gingerly, finding that he is as solid and cold as any stone.
“I will come back for you,” Ruhr promises, his voice loud enough for even stone ears to hear. “She will not forget your sacrifice.” And with a few quick flaps of his wings, the bird-like creature is airborne and gone.
The world that She showed him was stranger than anything he could imagine. He recognized nothing, saw creatures and landscapes for which he had no name. She showed him the future, and as he felt himself slipping back into his body, She showed him how very far away it was.
Lifetimes.
Stratosians are long-lived, but as he watched the vision unfold, Ruhr knew that he was to be gifted again with Her immortality. He would live to see it, She told him; he is to be gifted with something infinitely precious.
He is to be gifted time.
As he feels himself settle back into his body and the dream begins to fade around the edges, She shows him what he must do to ensure Her arrival, how to gather Her chosen, the acolytes. She shows him the first acolyte, and tells him what to say to show them the path.
When Ruhr awakes, it is with a refreshed sense of purpose. There is a smile on his feathered face as he makes his way to a nearby stream. He washes the dust from his dappled sides, and grooms the brightly colored feathers of his wings. His mane and the sunset-colored feathers within it are still damp as he climbs back up the creekbed. Using a flap of his wings to ascend rather than pull up with his weak foreleg is second nature, and though his movements are quick and sharp, they do not convey weakness.
Night soon fals, and with it comes the first acolyte, just like She had shown him.
Ruhr introduces himself to the dark haired stranger, who glances up at the moon with one orange eye and one of electric blue. As the Moon had said, he agrees to gaze into the pool with Ruhr with little persuasion, skeptical but intrigued at the idea of magic from the Moon.
As the first acolyte stares into the pool of reflected Moonlight, Ruhr looks up at the bright glowing presence in the sky. He knows what comes next, had seen himself act in the vision. He reaches forward, then hesitates.
The winged stallion beside him senses the movement, and turns away from the divination pool, a look of confusion on his handsome face.
Ruhr turns him to stone.
Stone as pale as the Moon above, and glowing like the magic that passes from the horned stallion and into Ruhr. It settles in his chest, as cold as the Moon’s touch, and the last trace of doubt in Her plan is burnt away by the cold moonlight in his veins.
The stallion - Malik - remains perfectly still. Ruhr reaches out gingerly, finding that he is as solid and cold as any stone.
“I will come back for you,” Ruhr promises, his voice loud enough for even stone ears to hear. “She will not forget your sacrifice.” And with a few quick flaps of his wings, the bird-like creature is airborne and gone.