03-01-2021, 10:46 AM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Amatic+SC" rel="stylesheet"><div align="center"><div style="border-left:#213025 3px solid;border-right:#213025 3px solid;background:#747b6c;padding:16px 16px 12px 16px;width:500px;"><img src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yx2B0OacALk/WSSI1wgagCI/AAAAAAAAZGo/j2MYqCo8gvUDi6uadPexYdzUO02QsiFFQCLcB/s1600/2017-05-23_0052.jpg" style="max-width:100%;border:1px solid #000;"><div style="width:500px;line-height:24px;font-family:amatic sc;font-size:50px;margin-left:-4px;text-shadow:#dee1cf 2px 0px 2px;color:#213025;letter-spacing:1px;text-transform:lowercase;text-align:center;">it's a mystery to me</div><div style="width:450px;padding:12px 4px 12px 4px;font-family:arial;text-transform:uppercase;font-size:9px;line-height:8px;letter-spacing:1px;text-align:center;color:#3f4c40;">we have a greed with which we have agreed. you think you have to want more than you need; until you have it all you won't be free. and when you think more than you want, your thoughts begin to bleed.</div><div style="font-family:times;font-size:13px;line-height:120%;text-align:justify;color:#213025;">More of them gather; although Wishbone didn’t have any expectations, she is surprised to see how many have answered the call. Her eyes glance over each face that appears, most of them unfamiliar, and she nods in greeting as they find their places. A soft smile dances across her mouth when Lilliana arrives, and she is grateful that her friend will be on this adventure. A surprising number of children have answered the call, which creates a wrinkle of concern against her mouth. Beqanna has asked them to fulfill a mission and potentially sacrifice themselves for the betterment of their homes. And Wishbone knows these challenges do not come easily — it is painful and hard to be a hero.
By returning to Life, she had felt the torture of a hundred deaths. In merely surviving the walk across an ancient desert, she had suffered. Reuniting two lovers to one another forced her to relive heartache. There are things she knows, and there is much she does not understand. Yet Wishbone feels her heart twist when her eyes glance over the soft, curious faces of the youth. She wants to tell them to go home and find their parents. She wants to convince those parents to hold their children tight as if life itself were escaping them.
But she knows that nothing she says will change their decisions. Wishbone knows that if she were a child at this time in history, she would have followed the voices and stood among the adults. The fairies’ manifestations draw her attention away from the children, though they linger in the back of her mind. Wishbone has never seen the mysterious fae of Beqanna, and her eyes trace their colorful, tired faces. Her ears twitch forward as they speak, revealing why they have been silent for so long and why they have called them together.
When Wishbone hears about the origin of the monsters, how they are twisted versions of someone who might have once been pure and good, her lips press together. She has seen how evil the shadows are — if it hadn’t been for Mazikeen, Wishbone is sure she would have been stuck in an endless cycle of dying and coming back beneath a tooth-filled mouth. And she knows there must be many others who have suffered as she had, perhaps even worse. While she feels for the souls who have been lost, she feels no pity for the creatures as they are now. Perhaps by undoing the magic that shatters the souls, they will begin to heal what the monsters have broken in Beqanna.
Craft, Anatomy, Nikkai, Starlace, Straia. The first three names are familiar to her. They bring faces to her mind — a grulla amid a dangerous river, a dark face illuminated by the light of a portal, a golden mother’s face splashed with bright red blood. She cannot call them friends, but Craft, Anatomy, and Nikkai have been influential in her life. Even without the eclipse and the monsters, Wishbone knows she would help them.
They are given a decision. To rescue the magicians or to serve as the distraction. Either choice results in a death of some kind; they will have to die to reach the Afterlife, and they will most likely die as the distraction. Wishbone wants to laugh, and she bites her lip so hard she tastes blood to stop herself. She almost turns to look into the shadows, expecting to see Death’s grim face and recognize it like an old friend. The purple mare hadn’t expected to see the Afterlife so soon again, yet her encounter with Mazikeen and not-Ivar and now this mission have proven to her that she shouldn’t rely on her expectations.
Wishbone’s stomach drops as two of the children move toward the fairy that will bring them into the Afterlife to rescue the magicians. But she has already recognized that they will die regardless of their decision — and perhaps it will be a smoother death as a rescuer than as a distraction. And without the influence of the childrens’ decisions, she has already made her choice. Wishbone steps boldly toward the rescuing group, and her amber eyes dance with a mixture of amusement and determination. <font style="color:#dee1cf;"><b>“I have been to the Afterlife before,”</b></font> she admits to the group. <font style="color:#dee1cf;"><b>“And I have met Nikkai, Craft, and Anatomy. I’ll help rescue them.”</b></font></div></div><font style="font-family:times;font-size:10px;color:#000;">credit to <i>eliza</i> of adoxography.</font></div>
By returning to Life, she had felt the torture of a hundred deaths. In merely surviving the walk across an ancient desert, she had suffered. Reuniting two lovers to one another forced her to relive heartache. There are things she knows, and there is much she does not understand. Yet Wishbone feels her heart twist when her eyes glance over the soft, curious faces of the youth. She wants to tell them to go home and find their parents. She wants to convince those parents to hold their children tight as if life itself were escaping them.
But she knows that nothing she says will change their decisions. Wishbone knows that if she were a child at this time in history, she would have followed the voices and stood among the adults. The fairies’ manifestations draw her attention away from the children, though they linger in the back of her mind. Wishbone has never seen the mysterious fae of Beqanna, and her eyes trace their colorful, tired faces. Her ears twitch forward as they speak, revealing why they have been silent for so long and why they have called them together.
When Wishbone hears about the origin of the monsters, how they are twisted versions of someone who might have once been pure and good, her lips press together. She has seen how evil the shadows are — if it hadn’t been for Mazikeen, Wishbone is sure she would have been stuck in an endless cycle of dying and coming back beneath a tooth-filled mouth. And she knows there must be many others who have suffered as she had, perhaps even worse. While she feels for the souls who have been lost, she feels no pity for the creatures as they are now. Perhaps by undoing the magic that shatters the souls, they will begin to heal what the monsters have broken in Beqanna.
Craft, Anatomy, Nikkai, Starlace, Straia. The first three names are familiar to her. They bring faces to her mind — a grulla amid a dangerous river, a dark face illuminated by the light of a portal, a golden mother’s face splashed with bright red blood. She cannot call them friends, but Craft, Anatomy, and Nikkai have been influential in her life. Even without the eclipse and the monsters, Wishbone knows she would help them.
They are given a decision. To rescue the magicians or to serve as the distraction. Either choice results in a death of some kind; they will have to die to reach the Afterlife, and they will most likely die as the distraction. Wishbone wants to laugh, and she bites her lip so hard she tastes blood to stop herself. She almost turns to look into the shadows, expecting to see Death’s grim face and recognize it like an old friend. The purple mare hadn’t expected to see the Afterlife so soon again, yet her encounter with Mazikeen and not-Ivar and now this mission have proven to her that she shouldn’t rely on her expectations.
Wishbone’s stomach drops as two of the children move toward the fairy that will bring them into the Afterlife to rescue the magicians. But she has already recognized that they will die regardless of their decision — and perhaps it will be a smoother death as a rescuer than as a distraction. And without the influence of the childrens’ decisions, she has already made her choice. Wishbone steps boldly toward the rescuing group, and her amber eyes dance with a mixture of amusement and determination. <font style="color:#dee1cf;"><b>“I have been to the Afterlife before,”</b></font> she admits to the group. <font style="color:#dee1cf;"><b>“And I have met Nikkai, Craft, and Anatomy. I’ll help rescue them.”</b></font></div></div><font style="font-family:times;font-size:10px;color:#000;">credit to <i>eliza</i> of adoxography.</font></div>