02-28-2021, 05:50 PM
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XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#cbdac3', endColorstr='#00cbdac3',GradientType=0 );}.memorie_message {position: relative;z-index: 10;background-color: rgba(255, 240, 221, 0.3);box-shadow: inset 0 0 10px rgba(255, 240, 221, 1);text-align: justify;width: 530px;padding: 15px 20px;color: #f88498;}.memorie_name {position: relative;text-align: center;z-index: 10;font: 36px 'Playfair Display', serif;letter-spacing: 8px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);text-shadow: 0 0 2px #000;}.memorie_quote {z-index: 15;font-size: 11px;letter-spacing: 2px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);padding-bottom: 10px;}</style><center><div class="memorie_container"><p class="memorie_quote">one lives in hope of becoming a memory</p><div class="memorie_message">
Quiet settles around the base of the Mountain. It is unsettling. Stiff. A thrill of fear runs down my spine, but still I stand, waiting for something to happen. At first, nothing does, but then others start to appear. First is a stallion, unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome. I gently brush against his consciousness and find an echo of hesitation. Then comes a familiar scent, though I had yet to meet him. It must be Leilan, the king in the north. He gives a brief greeting, which I return with a soft smile, though I wonder if he can see it in the dark, so I whicker a soft greeting as well. More come, still: a young mare with a small cluster of fireflies that reminds me of Elegance, my cousin, an older mare who introduces herself–to which I reply with a jovial <span style="color:#28599b;">“Memorie.”</span>
<br>Then a familiar face appears, and a shock wave of guilt runs through me as Amarine asks what I am doing here. I cough nervously. <span style="color:#28599b;">“I can’t just sit by and watch as our world falls apart,”</span> I offer her. It is comforting, to know that there would be a familiar face on this journey, though.
<br>Right behind her comes another familiar face, Reave. I shift uncomfortably before I pick my way through the growing crowd to stand beside my family, while another unfamiliar face appears, this one a stallion who I can only describe as cursed. I barely register his presence, however, as yet another familiar face appears. It would seem that this gathering was turning into a sort of family reunion, as Cheri appears as well. Something unsettles me about this, though. Here we all are, family, running headlong into danger. I felt comfortable putting myself there, but now I would worry about their safety as well.
<br>But it would seem that we are not the only family to gather here, as another mare arrives. This one draws my attention like a moth to flame. She is beautiful and pure, though haunted, and the cursed stallion seems to haunt her even more. My attention is drawn from the mother-son duo by another mare that speaks softly, unsure of herself. I turn my attention to her. I can tell she is hoping that we have all heard the voice as well, and I almost want to jest with her that we hadn’t, but I nod. <span style="color:#28599b;">“I can’t speak for the others, but I heard the voices.”</span>
<br>The next thing to happen was just about the most unsettling thing I could imagine. A darkness shivers through the shadows, not like the shadows themselves, but speaking in tones of evil and malice. I watch him approach, and I can already tell that he makes others uncomfortable, especially the girl who reminded me of Elegance, the girl with her fireflies. It is that moment that I decide we would all need to work together but not with him. An echo tells me that he has his own intentions, and whatever those were, they run contrary to the intentions of all the others who have gathered.
<br>An unusual creature follows the beast, and I give her a curious glance before her peaceful blanket falls across the small gathering. It feels strange, kind of like an echo, though different as well, and I regard it warily. My attention remains on her for only a moment before another familiar face appears, the one of my grandmother, Lilliana. I whicker softly as she joins our little group, and I wish I could swallow the worry she shows at just how much of her family had gathered here.
<br>Three more bodies appear: a fragile mare that catches what little light there is, that looks like she could shatter with the slightest touch, a colt who could be no older than myself and Cheri (which bolsters my confidence ever so slightly), and a lovesick stallion whose intentions seem far from finding the light, a task that had brought most of us here together.
<br>And then we wait.
<br>It happens slowly. A shimmer travels through the stagnant air around us, and then a glow follows that where the two fairies appear. My attention diverts from my family, from those gathered, and falls upon the two lonesome figures that emanate a sense of exhaustion and sadness. They speak, and the puzzle pieces start to come together. Suddenly, the monsters make sense. The distant echoes they secreted had always been a puzzle, a mystery, screaming sadness and anger and pain. The echoes had occupied a dark corner of my mind since the eclipse had fallen into its place in history.
<br>I do not recognize the names the fairies give us, though their importance settles into my mind, thoroughly absorbing my attention until they ask us to choose. I hesitate, unsure of myself in a way that I had never been before, but another’s courage shatters that hesitation. Cheri. My beloved half-sister. She steps forward, offering herself to the rescue. I make up my mind, and I hope the rest of my family would follow, too. I move to stand beside Cheri, and I look up at the fairies. <span style="color:#28599b;">“I, too, will aid in the rescue.”</span> Then I turn to face the others. <span style="color:#28599b;">“To those that would join us, I suggest this: we should work together to bring back the day.”</span> I hesitate for just a moment, though, a nagging feeling at the back of my mind when my eyes pass over the beast in our midst, the stallion who sent fear through the firefly child’s heart. What would he choose? I pray he chooses to be a distraction.
</div><p class="memorie_name">memorie</p><div class="memorie_gradient"></div><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/3NX0PGqD/28-C0-B40-C-A789-4-CB4-A977-498-D2523-BBB5.jpg"></div><a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/NkQD-RHhbvY" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="padding-top:10px;">Photo by Saffu from Unsplash</a></center>
XImageTransform.Microsoft.gradient( startColorstr='#cbdac3', endColorstr='#00cbdac3',GradientType=0 );}.memorie_message {position: relative;z-index: 10;background-color: rgba(255, 240, 221, 0.3);box-shadow: inset 0 0 10px rgba(255, 240, 221, 1);text-align: justify;width: 530px;padding: 15px 20px;color: #f88498;}.memorie_name {position: relative;text-align: center;z-index: 10;font: 36px 'Playfair Display', serif;letter-spacing: 8px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);text-shadow: 0 0 2px #000;}.memorie_quote {z-index: 15;font-size: 11px;letter-spacing: 2px;text-transform: uppercase;color: rgba(248, 132, 152, 1);padding-bottom: 10px;}</style><center><div class="memorie_container"><p class="memorie_quote">one lives in hope of becoming a memory</p><div class="memorie_message">Quiet settles around the base of the Mountain. It is unsettling. Stiff. A thrill of fear runs down my spine, but still I stand, waiting for something to happen. At first, nothing does, but then others start to appear. First is a stallion, unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome. I gently brush against his consciousness and find an echo of hesitation. Then comes a familiar scent, though I had yet to meet him. It must be Leilan, the king in the north. He gives a brief greeting, which I return with a soft smile, though I wonder if he can see it in the dark, so I whicker a soft greeting as well. More come, still: a young mare with a small cluster of fireflies that reminds me of Elegance, my cousin, an older mare who introduces herself–to which I reply with a jovial <span style="color:#28599b;">“Memorie.”</span>
<br>Then a familiar face appears, and a shock wave of guilt runs through me as Amarine asks what I am doing here. I cough nervously. <span style="color:#28599b;">“I can’t just sit by and watch as our world falls apart,”</span> I offer her. It is comforting, to know that there would be a familiar face on this journey, though.
<br>Right behind her comes another familiar face, Reave. I shift uncomfortably before I pick my way through the growing crowd to stand beside my family, while another unfamiliar face appears, this one a stallion who I can only describe as cursed. I barely register his presence, however, as yet another familiar face appears. It would seem that this gathering was turning into a sort of family reunion, as Cheri appears as well. Something unsettles me about this, though. Here we all are, family, running headlong into danger. I felt comfortable putting myself there, but now I would worry about their safety as well.
<br>But it would seem that we are not the only family to gather here, as another mare arrives. This one draws my attention like a moth to flame. She is beautiful and pure, though haunted, and the cursed stallion seems to haunt her even more. My attention is drawn from the mother-son duo by another mare that speaks softly, unsure of herself. I turn my attention to her. I can tell she is hoping that we have all heard the voice as well, and I almost want to jest with her that we hadn’t, but I nod. <span style="color:#28599b;">“I can’t speak for the others, but I heard the voices.”</span>
<br>The next thing to happen was just about the most unsettling thing I could imagine. A darkness shivers through the shadows, not like the shadows themselves, but speaking in tones of evil and malice. I watch him approach, and I can already tell that he makes others uncomfortable, especially the girl who reminded me of Elegance, the girl with her fireflies. It is that moment that I decide we would all need to work together but not with him. An echo tells me that he has his own intentions, and whatever those were, they run contrary to the intentions of all the others who have gathered.
<br>An unusual creature follows the beast, and I give her a curious glance before her peaceful blanket falls across the small gathering. It feels strange, kind of like an echo, though different as well, and I regard it warily. My attention remains on her for only a moment before another familiar face appears, the one of my grandmother, Lilliana. I whicker softly as she joins our little group, and I wish I could swallow the worry she shows at just how much of her family had gathered here.
<br>Three more bodies appear: a fragile mare that catches what little light there is, that looks like she could shatter with the slightest touch, a colt who could be no older than myself and Cheri (which bolsters my confidence ever so slightly), and a lovesick stallion whose intentions seem far from finding the light, a task that had brought most of us here together.
<br>And then we wait.
<br>It happens slowly. A shimmer travels through the stagnant air around us, and then a glow follows that where the two fairies appear. My attention diverts from my family, from those gathered, and falls upon the two lonesome figures that emanate a sense of exhaustion and sadness. They speak, and the puzzle pieces start to come together. Suddenly, the monsters make sense. The distant echoes they secreted had always been a puzzle, a mystery, screaming sadness and anger and pain. The echoes had occupied a dark corner of my mind since the eclipse had fallen into its place in history.
<br>I do not recognize the names the fairies give us, though their importance settles into my mind, thoroughly absorbing my attention until they ask us to choose. I hesitate, unsure of myself in a way that I had never been before, but another’s courage shatters that hesitation. Cheri. My beloved half-sister. She steps forward, offering herself to the rescue. I make up my mind, and I hope the rest of my family would follow, too. I move to stand beside Cheri, and I look up at the fairies. <span style="color:#28599b;">“I, too, will aid in the rescue.”</span> Then I turn to face the others. <span style="color:#28599b;">“To those that would join us, I suggest this: we should work together to bring back the day.”</span> I hesitate for just a moment, though, a nagging feeling at the back of my mind when my eyes pass over the beast in our midst, the stallion who sent fear through the firefly child’s heart. What would he choose? I pray he chooses to be a distraction.
</div><p class="memorie_name">memorie</p><div class="memorie_gradient"></div><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/3NX0PGqD/28-C0-B40-C-A789-4-CB4-A977-498-D2523-BBB5.jpg"></div><a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/NkQD-RHhbvY" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" style="padding-top:10px;">Photo by Saffu from Unsplash</a></center>