06-19-2017, 11:34 PM
All the mountains of coins I've thrown will bought the wish I've cast them for.“ _______________________________________________________________________________ She is nothing. For years she had disappeared from every eye that could possibly see her, and still she knows there was not a single soul to notice. There are some where their absence leaves a hole, where even strangers realize that something is amiss – that a magician has not been around for some time, that the mare with goddess-like beauty hadn’t been seen in ages, or a name that could be whispered and everyone around would nod their heads in recognition. She was not one of those girls. Where they were the flowers that decorated the meadow and captured attention, she was merely the grass surrounding them. And so she doesn’t even know what brings her back to this place. Nothing else seemed to feel like home, even though this place certainly never did. The forest was bright with the colors of autumn, a beautiful spectrum of crimson and burnt orange, golds and crisp brown. How odd, that the forest was at its utmost splendor when it was dying. She walks beneath the branches, listening to the rhythmic sound of her footfalls as the land on top of the bed of leaves that litter the ground. She hadn’t been back here in years, and as the familiar smells began to reach her, she could feel her chest start to tighten. She missed her mother, the terribly shy mare that somehow managed to lure everyone to her when she didn’t dare leave the shadows. She missed who she thought her father was, the man that had been so caring and attentive when she was born, before completely shunning them to start his new royal family. Never will she forget the coldness in his eyes as he had flatly told her that she was not his daughter anymore. A sigh steals across her lips, the confusion and sorrow rattling against the inside of her ribs like a bird trying to escape a cage. Vespara was actually quite pretty, although considerably plain by Beqanna standards. She had no flashy traits, nothing that was even remotely unique about her. But her coat was a brilliant gold, with long threads of a stark white mane that cascaded past the gentle curve of her chest. Her mother had passed on delicate and refined features, with rich brown eyes that stared at the world with a certain longing. Nothing could fill the emptiness that she felt, and sometimes she was sure that if you cut her open she would be nothing but skin and skeleton – and of course that fragile heart that refused to stop beating, a bird with a broken wing, struggling and pathetic and just needing someone to come along and put it out of its misery. _______________________________________________________________________________ don't fail me, you're all I know buonarroti x elentári |