08-10-2020, 10:19 AM
is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
The girl apologizes, her head down, and Straia shakes her head slightly, though there is something like kindness in her eyes. ”Do not apologize, dear.” Her magic reaches out, an invisible bit like gentle fingers, encouraging her to lift her chin back up. ”Not to anyone, and certainly not for something so simple as a question.” She finds herself more curious to know who pulls this girl’s strings. More importantly, she wants to know how to break them.
She lets Blasphemare answer first, though her answer is vague, it is certainly not untrue. Straia grins slightly. ”Perhaps a story is in order?” Though Blasphemare is older, perhaps Straia knows the most history (or just likes to be showy, on occasion). Then again, she may have had something to do with the destruction of the Beqanna she knew, though certainly, she was not the only cause. It would have been quite a feat to be the only cause, after all.
Around them, the world changes. As she speaks, she paints pictures of the lands, as best she can. ”At first, the land was divided only by lights and darks, or good and evil. There was no magic here once, though that was long before even my time. I know only that over the years that began to change, with magic and traits arriving along with those that called themselves neutral. When I was born, there were eight kingdoms. Good, Neutral, and Evil, and each of those divided by mythical and non-mythical. The Chamber of Evil was my home.” This she paints in vivid detail, because it is the place she knows best. Beneath them, the subtle beating of a heart. Around them, misty pine forests and somewhere in the distance, a burning tree.
”But divisions are blurry things. Magic became more rampant, light versus dark ceased to matter. Instead, all that mattered was power. There was too much of it.” She paints a war around them, taking place in the pine forests of the Chamber. A war she started for no reason. A war that was nothing more than magic hurled around, lives lost for no purpose at all besides fear and destruction. She feels no remorse, but of course, she had hardly been the only involved. ”It was some time after all this that the fairies finally had enough. They destroyed Beqanna, leaving only the mountain and new lands to be discovered. Powers had to be earned again, and magic has never flowed as freely through Beqanna as it once did.”
She stops, and the world goes back to normal around them, leaving them once again in the meadow. It is one of the few unchanged places of Beqanna. There are a couple. ”You may call me Straia,” she adds, nodding slightly in acknowledgement of the name already offered from the other ancient mare.
She lets Blasphemare answer first, though her answer is vague, it is certainly not untrue. Straia grins slightly. ”Perhaps a story is in order?” Though Blasphemare is older, perhaps Straia knows the most history (or just likes to be showy, on occasion). Then again, she may have had something to do with the destruction of the Beqanna she knew, though certainly, she was not the only cause. It would have been quite a feat to be the only cause, after all.
Around them, the world changes. As she speaks, she paints pictures of the lands, as best she can. ”At first, the land was divided only by lights and darks, or good and evil. There was no magic here once, though that was long before even my time. I know only that over the years that began to change, with magic and traits arriving along with those that called themselves neutral. When I was born, there were eight kingdoms. Good, Neutral, and Evil, and each of those divided by mythical and non-mythical. The Chamber of Evil was my home.” This she paints in vivid detail, because it is the place she knows best. Beneath them, the subtle beating of a heart. Around them, misty pine forests and somewhere in the distance, a burning tree.
”But divisions are blurry things. Magic became more rampant, light versus dark ceased to matter. Instead, all that mattered was power. There was too much of it.” She paints a war around them, taking place in the pine forests of the Chamber. A war she started for no reason. A war that was nothing more than magic hurled around, lives lost for no purpose at all besides fear and destruction. She feels no remorse, but of course, she had hardly been the only involved. ”It was some time after all this that the fairies finally had enough. They destroyed Beqanna, leaving only the mountain and new lands to be discovered. Powers had to be earned again, and magic has never flowed as freely through Beqanna as it once did.”
She stops, and the world goes back to normal around them, leaving them once again in the meadow. It is one of the few unchanged places of Beqanna. There are a couple. ”You may call me Straia,” she adds, nodding slightly in acknowledgement of the name already offered from the other ancient mare.
@[greta]