"But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura
Beyza follows because she believes in Ghaul, believes in Anaxarete, and believes in the healing power of fire. Although she truthfully has no desire to see anyone harmed, it would be easy enough for the band of defenders to stand aside and allow the fire to purge their land and remake it anew.
Some naivety remains in her and she easily believes they cannot be there to destroy lives - just the lands.
They are met with resistance - who is to say Beyza would not resist had she been in their places? They simply do not understand but surely they would leave if they did.
Panic that is not hers leeches into her mind for a moment but this young mare is bolstered by the flames and shadows as they surge and rise. Beyza does not linger to join the fray but rises above it on large, crystalline wings and the electricity in the air builds as she ascends - arcs and flashes of it licking all across her skin and feathers. The panic ebbs as she rises higher and she feels her excitement rush in and filling up the spaces it left.
Before long, lightning replaces the small flickers and bolts of it shoot from her to collide with the barrier protecting Nerine. Much of her magic has returned to her, but perhaps a few stray bolts sneak out in other directions as she silently directs all she can into bringing the barrier down and helping spark new fires down below.
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
There is a moment when the brothers reach Nerine and meet with the wall once more. Virgil visibly wilts while Yadigar continues snarling, flinging strings of saliva as he searches for a new route. Maleficar, having fulfilled his promise, remains far beyond the northern region. The haloed boy looks to Asphyxea for guidance. Somewhere ahead, the earth shakes, and the shockwaves reach the trio briefly before Straia arrives.
Virgil watches her with delight and awe in his young eyes, admiring the fire that she builds along Brennen’s wall. He circles excitedly as his aura swirls up from his skin and begins to burn protectively around him. There has never been a need for her gift, before, but he is overjoyed that she is here to see him use it for the first time. As her fire eats a hole in the magic guarding Nerine, Yadigar ducks his head and rushes through. He has no patience in this state.
The younger dragon moves to follow before craning his head up to look at Straia one last time. “Father says Pangea needs an heir since Yadigar is a coward. You should take it,” he says with a nod of approval before hurrying along after Asphyxea. He can hardly stifle the laughter that bubbles up in surprise when he watches her break right through a stone barrier. She is larger and stronger than him, so he simply phases through the wall to continue his pace just behind her.
Around them, shadows rise and consume one another. It frightens him to see the darkness move so strangely. The panic rises up into his throat as a soft whimper. When he looks forward, Asphyxea is nowhere to be seen. His small chest rises and falls quickly with each worried breath. Then, his sister’s cry grabs at his attention. She’s rushing toward someone and Virgil scrambles to catch up to her once more.
“I’m here!” he calls, skittering to her side. His bright golden eyes watch her lunge and he quickly exhales a small plume of fire at the jewelled girl. The roar of lightning overhead startles him further, and so he tethers himself to his sister with the delicate threads of his healing. “I’m here,” he promises, carefully dipping his magic into her muscles to keep her safe.
---
Yadigar has lost himself entirely to the rage he has built up and stored away for so long. It floods his veins, devours his every thought once he passes through the hole burned into the barrier. He cares not for the war swelling around him but rather the landscape itself. This place was supposed to be his sanctuary. And yet, he can recall the way Breach’s leg looked when it was tossed before him. He remembers cowering from Cirilla and Tarte for fear of endangering them and it burns him to his core.
Where he had sought safety, he had found only more heartache. Now they would feel the same. He draws a deep breath and he exhales a sweep of billowing flame. It isn’t their fault that he has suffered, but someone has to answer for the ache beating in his chest - them, Loess, Pangea. He would devour them all and erase the possibility of being hurt again.
Yadigar opens his jaws wide and incinerates anything that comes near him. Beryl’s shadows, Anaxarete’s, he doesn’t mind who or what gets hurt. They are all endless wells of agony to him now. Each is a potential heartbreak and he will be rid of them.
When he meets Eurwen’s stone wall, he pumps his wings downward and sinks his talons into her wall. He will not be stopped until every inch of the world burns. Her winds seek to topple him to the ground but he remembers the lessons he learned from breaking his wings here in Nerine before. Yadigar keeps himself flat to the wall and leaps from the top, softening his landing with a few flaps of his wings.
The boom of lightning and thunder frightens him momentarily, a hook that Amarine’s magic takes advantage of. His fury blends into that terror, sending him running at full speed with a mouth full of more fire. Electricity crackles nervously along his skin when he finds himself staring at Breach. The depths of his pain rests there, in the cradle of her heart. He wants to rip her chest open and swallow it whole.
The towering thing at her side deters him, for now, and he turns his attention back on the land itself instead.
tl;dr: Virgil followed phyx into the center of nerine and says WOW THIS IS SCARIER THAN I THOUGHT?? so he's clinging to Phyx and doin tiny fire plus some heals. he's openly weeping so please be gentle with him.
yadigar hates everyone so anyone may get hurt by his fire. he's a little more north than the other ghaulbies (ghaul babies). he says he wants to eat breach but turns out he's terrified of elephants??? surprise.
She is not dragonborn. She has no scales or wings, and fire does not lay deep in her throat. Ghaul had, once upon a time, cherished her - she was the innocent one, the purest of the triplets and the child who could do no wrong. Perhaps that has changed now that she has spirited herself away from Pangea, but there is no way for her to know that. She has cut off contact with her family so abruptly that maybe they have forgotten that the little angel child even exists. It seems that Gar has, at least, for she has not seen her brother since arriving in this strange, northern land.
Cirilla hasn’t even realized yet that her mother has come to protect her children as they flee from Ghaul’s clutches, because she’s been so wrapped up in herself lately. Nashua and Brazen had assured her that she was welcome here, and would be free from her father’s cruelty, but there is a deep-seated fear within Cirilla that tells her that something’s not right. Why had Gar vanished? Why hasn’t Father, full of fire and rage, swept down upon Nerine to find his missing children? There must be something Ghaul has planned, but she knows not what it is.
It seems, however, that the small fragment of peace that Cirilla has discovered is soon to be disrupted yet again.
There is a commotion at the border, and it is pure curiosity that drives her towards it. She has no offensive capabilities of her own, so she will be useless to protect the kingdom in case of an attack, but she feels a compelling loyalty to this place already. If the Nerinians are in danger, it is time for Cirilla to prove that she has shed the mantle of Pangean princess.
What she finds is chaos.
Yadigar is there, and Asphyxea is charging towards the border with Virgil in tow, the pair of them spitting flames along the path they cut through Taiga. Fear grips Cirilla as she sees all three of her siblings coming forth to destroy her home - what caused Gar to do this? He doesn’t even look like himself, just blankly pouring fire from his throat as though he cannot stop it if he wants to. Tears well in her golden eyes and she musters as much strength as she can, sending a wave a peace towards her siblings. It is all she can do to attempt to calm her draconic siblings, and it may not be enough.
She doesn’t feel Amarine’s wave of panic that she spreads through the crowd of horses - perhaps because she is already so full of fear as the attacking horses batter the barrier. She loses sight of her siblings in the chaos, and retreats deeper into Nerine to try and center herself. She is useless in this state.
She hears her sister’s furious screaming and starts towards the sound, determined to calm at least one of her siblings. Yadigar may be too far gone, she is afraid.
Phyx is wheeling about in a panic, and the jade-horned girl storms through the kingdom as if there never was any wall holding her back. “Phyx!” Cirilla screeches desperately, but it is too late to stop her sister. A wall of flame erupts from the dragoness and Ciri reels backwards, but she has no scales to protect herself from dragon fire.
Phyx continues on as her sister burns, oblivious in her focus on Amarine.
From somewhere deep within Nerine, a dragon begins to scream.
—basically Ciri is stupid and marched headfirst in without thinking, used her peace induction to try and calm down Gar, Phyx, and Virgil. She then retreated into Nerine and accidentally got torched by Phyx and is Hurt Now. Clarissa is somewhere screaming in misery
Ciri is missing from my side, and I don't know where she's gone. The telltale weight of her mind against the edges of mine is faint, barely there, and I struggle to locate it at all amid the shouting thoughts that have erupted among us.
"Ciri? Ciri, where have you gone?" I whisper aloud, knowing she'll never hear me through the mind-numbing clamour. Then again, she might not hear me through the sound that fills the air either. Hissing, crackling fire that devours all it touches, wind that howls and whips the flames higher. And voices. So many voices, silent and aloud that scream and cry and cackle. It's enough to drive anyone mad.
I follow the sounds, knowing Ciri will look to help because that's who she is. Me? I would turn tail and run if it were just me. I'd find shelter somewhere and wait it out. But not Ciri. And I have to find her before I can feel safe.
The chaos I stumble on is unthinkable. It's flames and bodies colliding, blood and ash flying. Creatures I've never seen before, could not have imagined for myself in a hundred years are cantering through the mess, making more rubble in their way. My eyes are scanning with frantic speed, looking for the beautiful blue and gold that is my friend. Any sign of her, any trace.
And then I see her, or I think I do. Blue and gold, yes, but spewing flame and covered in jagged edges. A harsher version of the girl I'm looking for. And like a mirror being held to her, then I see the one I'm looking for. I see Cirilla, moving as if she's sleepwalking until a gout of flame scores her. Burns her.
Then I'm screaming too.
----------------
Amarine felt frozen in place. Her marble eyes watched with ever growing horror as the scene deteriorated into plain chaos, every horse and beast for themselves. She felt her muscles ache with how tightly they were being held, the ripple of Panic waning as her strength faded. It was a big feeling to hold, especially when you didn't mean to.
The feeling didn't fade quickly enough, though. Not soon enough for her to not become a target, and before she understood what was happening, a flame-breathing girl emerged from the madness, murder in her eyes. The heat that had been merely environmental until now grew very personal indeed, scorching tongues that licked at her face and chest while she backed away quickly. The scent of burning hair filled her nose, as her forelock sizzled and dusted away into ashes. Fear filled her again, weakly beating against her ribs as the pair of draconic siblings neared.
A sudden flood of Rage dizzied the pony mare. Pure as the fire itself, and just as hot. Ama knew enough to recognize that it wasn't her emotion she was feeling, but it was potent nonetheless. Strong enough that she had to work not to let it overtake her.
Two things then happened almost in unison.
Ama pushed away from the assailants, with enough force to stir the air. To tease the blazing wind into its trickster coils and birth a tornado between herself and the danger.
The second was an unearthly howl. A scream like the hosts of hell being unleashed on earth, as an undersized girl with vividly pink horns barreled for the draconic siblings, wrath in every line of her body and hellish pink light in her eyes.
------------
tldr; Tarte has joined the party! She saw Ciri getting injured and is now barreling with her horns down toward Sphyx and Virgil while they try to burn Ama. She is generating large amounts of Rage.
Ama's Panic is wearing off, but in defense of the flames being directed toward her she has inadvertently created a tornado that is now out of her control. Isa big 'un.
09-11-2020, 11:40 PM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2020, 12:53 PM by lilliana.)
To the ends of the earth, would you follow me?
There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see
To the ends of the earth, would you follow me?
If you won't, I must say my goodbyes to thee
He hadn't reached for her mind.
Brennen had reached for Leilan, newly-crowned King of the North. He had sent his Magic reaching out through the existing bond to Neverwhere. The Magician had reached out for the other two - the two other parts of the triad that made up the North - while the third burned at her back.
She could feel the flames still sweltering behind her, growing, feasting on the young and old Redwoods. Devouring the glen that she sought shelter in. Covering the beach she often walked, that she had so often worried (and dreamed) on in ashes. She has spent years there and for as many memories bring her sorrow there, many bring her joy, too.
It blazes at her back and that anger is burning bright in her blue eyes.
Lilliana had looked for Yanhua and had been unable to find him (she hopes that he is on the Isle, anywhere but the wreckage smoldering behind her). She had cried until her voice became hoarse with the smoke for Aela, calling for the daughter who wouldn't understand why the red mare was calling her name. Who wouldn't understand that it was her mother crying out through the haze of smoke.
She hadn't been the one called but Neverwhere is gone to Loess and the other two leaders of the North aren't here. It is only Lilliana, coming after she has scoured the Redwoods for her children and leads those who want out of the hellfire forest to Nerine, that comes. Where Brennen's magic recedes from Taiga like a tide, the red mare comes upon them like the dawn. The fury on her face rivals the flames behind her when she comes upon the chaos. She recognizes one - the painted woman from the Meadow who had talked about the times before - and another who goads the water Magician. "We save this because it is our home."
There is no time to say more because the air is chaos.
There is Amarine and suddenly, there is fear tightening her chest. Lilliana remembers her every fear; from the dark when she had been small to where stands now, losing the children she has and the ones she carries. Her heart races and when she catches sight of Beryl - when the air is tainted from a spell - the copper mare looks sharply to her. A memory descends. Darkness. A void. Nothing. Shadows. (It is meant for the palomino mare but Magic is running as rampant as the firestorm around them. There is no time for precision.) With that memory comes the agony of losing her only daughter. With it comes the fear that she would never find Aela again.
With it comes the emptiness that still lingers from finding her child with another mare. That when Lilliana and Aela had finally been reunited, her golden daughter had looked on her with fear. (Maybe the pain is still so acute from that loss that Beryl still remembers it, still remembers the way the golden girl had gotten lost to the shadows.)
"NO!" she shouts to Beryl over the din.
Looking at the dark shape that lingers in the waves and finding no sign that the bay stallion is even aware of their existence (or the way that fire has started to build around them, a pyre that lights in Nerine), she looks to Straia. "What more could this be?" she asks the mare from the Meadow because Lilliana can't see past the cinders. (It sounds almost like a demand.)
He hadn't reached for her mind but she reaches for his. Along the blurred lines of Magic (a silent plea to the Mountain, to the Stars and the Winds and the Tides; a shining moment where she hopes again), Lilliana does what she has always done: she gives.
ooc: Lilliana is 'sacrificing' her light healing to Brennen, so he's able to use it (if he wants) as another element besides water to heal his physical body. Before doing that, she sent out an Echo to Beryl but she has no control of where it goes so whoever can get some desolation if there wasn't enough going on.
The fire, smoke, and screams are clearly audible on the Isle in the north, as well. The teal and silver colt, having been born well after the burning of his homeland, shivers at the thought of it. He’s seen the aftermath, but not the fact. Is this what the Isle was like, at the time? He hadn’t been told about the fear and the running and the chaos before, but now it’s there.
Orange light comes from Nerine, the territory that was mostly made of soft (and wet, so wet) grass. Moors shouldn’t be able to burn, he thinks. The melting snow and Nerine’s endless rain should stop this, but today it hadn’t. Too much fire for him to imagine.
His mother told him to stay here, where it’s safe.
But then he saw Nashua leave, and leaves as well.
His wings carry him through the air relatively safe, but by the time he is gliding over Nerine, the heat waves from below disrupt his balance. A north wind that he hadn’t anticipated rocks him, and the temperature differences are too large to stay aloft. He is tossed forward into the mess, right in the middle, and then he scrambles sideways, narrowly avoiding a newly made tornado.
Panic washes over him, but then rage follows, and he is indeed mad. Mad at those who burn and kill, mad at everyone causing so much pain and suffering. Someone screams - another screams, a third - and his head tosses in That direction.
Someone is on fire!
The shock on his face travels through his body, going limb for a hot second. Time seems to slow for him, and when he regains control over his body, he finds two flame-wielders coming for him. Well, not for him, they rush past - but the gleaming mare behind him. NO, not another! ”STOP!” Nobody seems to hear. His eyes roll, this was not what he’d anticipated when he came here (of course it wasn’t), and the smoke keeps stinging in his eyes, keep blocking his throat.
Fear and rage consume the young ice dragon. He screams more, the trauma of fires, the smell of burning flesh, washing over him.
He’s not a boy any more. He is a madman.
Sachin runs around in circles, spitting ice out wherever he goes. One such cold breath is accidentally directed towards the tornado, that runs circles across Nerine, and he begins to laugh.
Laughing and crying and screaming, Sachin loses himself in the madness, and spits ice on every living creature he can find. If it douses anyone’s flames, he doesn’t notice. If he creates a mist of sublimating ice and fire, the steam blocking everyone’s vision, he doesn’t notice. If he gets cinders on his wings and brings with him the smell of death, he doesn’t notice. If the tornado is now a blizzard-storm, he doesn’t notice.
All he knows is how delightful it is to laugh, and aim at nothing and nobody in particular, and kill everything that moves.
Hi so I have an almost-adult teal and metallic silver boy who has gone mad. The tornado is now carrying his icy breath, do with that what you will. It’s possible he douses someone’s flames, possibly at the cost of hot steam burns instead, and it is possible that he creates steam and cracks in rocks so much that nobody can see a thing in the debris. He may be useful as a distraction one moment, if you need it, or as a target. He’s laughing all the way, anyway.
09-12-2020, 07:24 AM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2020, 07:25 AM by Straia.)
is this the end of everything?
STRAIA
or is it just a new way to bleed?
Between her and Ana, the wall begins to burn. She is not sure how much of it they will burn, nor is she sure what the fire will do to Brennen. In truth, she has no desire to harm him (or anyone really), but rather to get their attention. Sometimes sacrifices must be made. There’s a familiar palomino that comes to challenge them as Ana arrives, and the other magician takes care of the paltry attack. ”You will have to try a bit harder, dear,” Straia says to @[Beryl] as she finally places why the girl is familiar. ”I merely gave Sochi a gift.” Apparently news of Sochi is not common, and Straia does not offer the details of how her chosen champion had failed in her own task. No matter though, for Straia and Sochi had never sought the same ends. They had sought two different things that could have co-existed. ”Did you have some expectation that, should you have won, I would have become your lapdog, unable to serve any but you?” You, Sochi...it does not matter, really, what name she puts in there, but she chooses to reflect it back on the mare on purpose.
More pour in, and chaos erupts. It is familiar to the war Straia had once started, a war without purpose, and some part of her realizes now the waste. It had taken her a lifetime to understand it though, that war ought to be a means to an end. It is for her now, if only one of them will listen to what she said in the very beginning. Whatever magic comes toward her, she bats off. There are perks to being more powerful, particularly against children who have not had time to master their gifts.
It is not lost on her that most of those fighting are children. Was Beqanna made of young faces now? They would care little for the world they had lost, because they knew no better. Though she could teach them, she could show them. Perhaps in the end they would be easier to convince, but in the moment, she simply sees children playing at something they do not understand. She conjures more fire and it takes the shape of ravens. She sends them into the fray, the ravens swooping and diving, allowing their wings to brush against things that might be set on fire easily, and perhaps ‘accidentally’ flinging themselves in between two children to prevent someone from getting injured, as if they do not know where they are going.
One of the young dragons, one she does not know, stops to look up at her. Though her fire still eats away at the barrier, she turns her attention to him at his words. Strange, the offer coming from a child, but still, he’d used the correct words. You should take it. There might be some who challenge her, but in the end, she could take it. ”Consider it done, little dragonling.”
Then there is another mare she’d met, long ago, in the peaceful moment at the meadow. ”@[lilliana],” she says, and you would know not that chaos rages all around them by the sound of her voice. So calm and cool, so unconcerned. ”It could be alive.” Her lips curl into a grin, savoring the taste of the word. ”The Beqanna of old thrived with magic and life. Each kingdom stood for something, was unique. It was so much more than a few plots of land with too many rulers and nothing but children to populate them.” Straia’s magic knocks on Lilliana’s mind, asking permission, for Straia is not always cruel.
Should Lilliana accept, Straia will show her the Beqanna she remembers. The Chamber and the Valley, the Gates and the Deserts, the Amazons and the Tundra. It is clear in the memory that things once lost cannot be regained fully, but they can be remade into something new and something better. It would take all of them to do it though. ”No one needs to be hurt. No one needs to fear that they will not have a home. Surrender your loyalty to me and your territory, and together we can rebuild something far better than the Beqanna you have ever known.” This was all Straia wanted, truly. She wanted to remake the world into something so much better.
Her eyes turn to @[Anaxarete], wondering if the shadow magician would agree. After all, such a dream could not be accomplished on her own.
Straia continues to burn Brennen’s magic in hopes of knocking down the barrier or getting him to side with her, says some stuff to Beryl, accepts the offer to take Pangea (...are we sure this is a good idea? Probably not, lol), sends some fire ravens into Nerine under the pretext of burning stuff but also they block attacks between kiddos so the kiddos don’t get hurt (you can use this however you want - the ravens can shift to be other elements if you want - and she doesn’t care what side the kiddos are on), answers Lilliana’s question by politely offering a magical picture of old Beqanna and says that no one needs to get hurt if they surrender their loyalty to her and help her build a better world (sorry Ghaul, Straia is stealing your war…)
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission
09-12-2020, 10:42 AM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2020, 10:52 AM by Beryl.)
The dappled mare arrives in shadow and deflects the wave as if it is an afterthought, and it's a simple thing for Beryl to see that she will quickly be over-powered no matter what she does. There's frustration in that impotence. She wonders how much time she could buy Brennen if she threw herself at the magicians and knows the answer is probably "almost none" but what are her options? Die or run or join. She does not want to do any of those things.
"I had not considered what would happen if you came with me at all." She answers, after a pause. The truth, and likely why the painted mare had not, but there is no opportunity for her to say anything further. She cannot know why Breach attacks her. She cannot know what has befallen Sochi, or the rage, and panic, and the witch's magic that adds just that extra bit of feral fervor. She does hear the charge, because Nerine's beaches are gravel, not sand, and because the tigress that flings herself against Beryl's side is taking no steps to hide her attack. The golden mare shies away, but not quite quick enough. Those wicked teeth miss her jugular by centimeters, cutting grooves into skin and muscle and the smell of blood bursts into the air like copper flowers. Beneath those claws, she falls back, falls away, though they cannot pierce all the way through the shadow armor on her skin. They prickle against her skin like cactus spines but find less purchase than they should. Somebody else is speaking, but her eyes only graze over the tusked grey form, barely seeing him, barely hearing him. A familiar voice shouts No! Beryl drops beneath the tiger's weight and the shadows darken around her, for a moment solid as black smoke, and then she is gone with it, leaving Breach to fall to the earth alone.
It's a growl that announces her reappearance, lion-shaped and bristling, but distant enough that one leap will not bring the tigress upon her, and her eyes focus more easily on the immensity of the elephant, swinging his tusks in the air, ripping at the tall grasses around him. She bares her teeth, crouching low in the dry grass, tail lashing side-to-side angrily. Shadows grow up around her again, but when she reappears, there is red skin beneath her instead of grey. Her weight barely settles on Lilliana's back when she snarls and disappears again.
That hasn't happened in ages.
It's wrong. The magic is wrong. She reappears above them on the cliff she has sat watching Brennen all this time (And for what? What good has she done him today?) and thrusts a dark spear into the air for the elephant. The thing flies straight, whistling through the air, but for Brennen instead and she only just manages to pull back, frantically reeling the wayward magic off course so that it pierces harmlessly into seawater instead.
"What did you do?" Her voice is a furious roar as she remembers, just barely, the sing-song words as she disappeared beneath the tigress's grip.
Blacken your heart and destroy your home. Whether because of his inexperience or because she had already been teleporting away from their attacks as he said it, the magic has not fully gripped her, yet she cannot make her own attack where she wants. Destroy your home. The low growl in her throat is little more than rhythmic clicking, slow and angry.
Destroy your home. Lilli's echoes trickle in. Darkness. The void. There are no eyes in it, this is Lilliana's memory, not Beryl's. She remembers the ease of killing in the painted mare's dream world, how she had done it without a second thought, without fear or sadness, without even caring if she was right or successful, it had just been a thing that needed to be done, and she had done it. She remembers all the places that darkness hides.
"Destroy my home... I hope it crushes you." Beryl spits, barely audible above the chaos around them, but she pulls at all that darkness in the pores of the rocks around them, every crack and every hidden cave - and oh, there are so many in Nerine. The land is bright but there is so much darkness underneath it, and it erupts out into the daylight with the ancient fury of any wild thing awoken against its will. It explodes upwards, sending granite shrapnel and enormous boulders into the air above tigress and elephant, above Lilliana, perhaps even as high as the flaming dragon in the sky. The cliff crumbles beneath her and she leaps aside, hooking a ledge with exhausted claws and only just barely pulling herself onto the narrow outcropping, bleeding and bruised, as the sea wall collapses in a rush of tumbling rock, in a rush of sharp and heavy edges, crashing towards the encroaching sea.
ooc: Beryl teleports out from under Breach's attack instinctively, so Spirit's charm only sort of worked. She can only attack her home but is aware that something is wrong, so instead of attacking THEM, she draws out the darkness hiding beneath the beach, causing a massive eruption and collapse, and essentially hollowing out the beach and cliff they are all standing on. This should create a massive hole, so the sea is rushing in to fill the space.
09-12-2020, 12:23 PM (This post was last modified: 09-12-2020, 12:26 PM by Yanhua.)
Racing against time, Yanhua flitted between the soft-burning trees of Taiga and did his best to spread a warm, sensational light that trapped animals could follow to safety. The fog is hazier than ever, doubled in thickness from smoke and ash, but he beams just as brightly and tries to find the little spots of fear and terror trembling in their burrows or cowering in hollow logs, so he could lead them to the fringes of the forest fire. No one else will, which means that Yanhua must. He can’t sit by while the echoes of wild animals go unheeded; their fear is his own, and their deaths will be many little scars on his heart.
Northward, the fire burns brighter. Certainly there’s chaos to be found there from the distant roaring and rumbling, but Yanhua pledged his duty to protect and keep Taiga. The Northernmost territories had their own means of protection, didn’t they? Else why would Leilan - the most powerful of them all it would seem - have been elected to lead them? "He’ll do what’s right." Yanhua told himself, bounding over rock and stump in his hurry to flush out any remaining creatures. But a shadow careens overhead at the same moment, making him pause to look up.
A pale underbelly flew over Nerine, away from the source of danger, headed straight for the East with something in its paws.
“Oh shit.” Yan cursed the dragon as it continued to fly further away from its duties and the empty promises it made them all. The earth trembled underhoof and Yan looked away, finding that the fear resided in his own heart now. They were trapped on the cliffs… Amarine, Lilliana, perhaps even his twin Nashua (who boldly met any challenge thrown his way.) Yan had no time to waste. He turned and made for the main road, galloping as he went.
By the time Yanhua did reach Nerine hours later he was blowing and sweating, and the only thing that put a stop to his dancing legs was the sudden crack of the sky above and the roaring thunder of the earth below. He staggered, blown back by the gale winds outside Ama’s freakish tornado, and tried to look into the dark swarm of clouds and ash without much luck. “Amarine! Nash, Mother?!” He shouted, the glowing tendrils of his forelock twisting around his horns and blotting out his vision.
Only one voice rose above the others to answer him, and it was most certainly not a horse he’d met before. Straia the Raven Queen, with her fingers of magic blossoming out into their minds and their hearts; it was her voice he heard above the noise and confusion, sweet as a summer breeze. Yanhua heard her, and felt the echoes of everyone in this group that proved her otherwise - their combined passions made him weak in the knees. “Never.” The young stallion spit out in a whisper, having closed his eyes to the pain of so much raw emotion and power.
The Northerners should never bend their knees out of fear. They bent to Leilan and crowned him ‘Dragon King’ because of fear, and where was their Dragon King now? "Abandoning his people." Yan thought, but fought past the anger. Straia would be the same, no matter who she was. She would disappoint them all, and her dream of a better future would end the same way it had ended in the histories passed down through stories from generation to generation: with no Chamber, no glory, and no unified Beqanna. The magician reminded him of his mother, trapped forever in a past long-gone.
A spew of earth and rock broke the spell over Yanhua seconds later; he blinked away the onslaught of so many emotions and drove his powers to their limits to stave the echoes off, just to leap into the fray the instant he caught sight of flashing reds and golds. “MOTHER LOOK OUT!” Yanhua bellowed as he ran headlong into the haze of magic and destruction, but his eyes were only focused on the hailstorm of boulders above where he’d seen Lilli last. He took a jump, stretched himself into a flying leap without care or concern for anyone but the red mare, and lowered his horns to meet the falling rock.
ooc: Quick post bc ain't nobody got time for HTML
TLDR: Yan is trying to save animals from the smaller fires in Taiga when he catches sight of Leilan headed for Pangea. He's like, "Oh shit" literally, and decides to give up being a soft boi in favor of saving some peeps instead. Couple hours later he arrives in Nerine just in time to hear Straia's proposal, deny it, and see Beryl's *finishing move* before he catches a glimpse of Lilli and the boulder /aboot/ to squish her. So, like the brave boy he is, he leaps at it with his horns and hopes it might get pushed aside. (In his head he thinks he's a badass and might actually break it apart which we all know ain't happening.)
They think this is war.
The very notion is foolish.
The shadowmare knows better. She’d seen war firsthand many times over.
And this? This was not war.
This was an opportunity.
An opportunity for growth, for change – to grow into something so much more than they could imagine. These citizens of the new Beqanna were short sighted – they didn’t know what potential lived here. And now they were showing their ignorance – their petty resistance to change. It was disappointing, of course, but not at all surprising.
Not all were willing to embrace the cleansing nature of fire. Not all were willing to sacrifice what they know to gain something far greater. Instead they couldn’t help but cling to comfort, to fight for the ordinary life that was all they had ever known.
A pity, really.
She watches as they fight – the skirmishes erupting all around. She does not intervene – she has one task today and that is to break the barrier. Unless Brennen could be convinced to see reason, of course. Like Straia, the shadowmare has no conflict with those who are reasonable. But until then she continues to pour her magic at the barrier. The emotional attack was an interesting choice, given the heated emotions, but emotions mean so little to the woman who had long since frozen her own heart away in her chest. Fear? Pain? Anguish? It all means nothing to her now – now when she is a creature of only cold.
Her attention flickers to Beyza for a moment, her young protégé who already seemed to understand what so many here simply could not. A shadow of a smile crossed her lips as she could feel Beyza’s unique brand of magic join her own and Straia’s in breaking down Brennen’s defenses.
But her attention shifts back to Beryl – the girl who had attempted to cast darkness in her direction the first time. Again – the girl reaches for the darkness. The shadowmare can feel it – the darkness is her pet – her lifeblood. The shadows surrounding her stir in anticipation.
The shadowmare, ever the opportunist, does what she does best. She takes.
Shadow calls to darkness. She strips the power from Beryl’s attack as soon as its in the open – redirecting the intended attack away from those fighting and directing the energy into her own attack on Brennen’s defenses. Of course, she cannot stop all of the boulders from falling, though the majority are directed away and towards where the barrier burns. Stealing someone else’s energy certainly allows her the moment to conserve her own, and for that this has been positive development.
Finally, she speaks, “Surely you understand this is a fight you cannot possibly hope to win,” her voice is not cruel – but matter of fact. Calculated. She speaks to no one in particular, rather all that continue to resist.
“You fight for what this place is now – you fail to consider what this place could be,” she says, simply – her voice as cool as it always is – despite the fact her shadows continue to eat away at the barrier before her, “Let us show you.”
tl;dr: Ana continues to throw her magic at the barrier hoping to burn it down w/ Straia and now Beyza too. Makes proud eyes at Beyza. Emotional attack legit does nothing to her because Ana's a frosty bitch who hasn't had emotions for like idk 100 years or some shit. Ana also totally stole Beryl's darkness from her ka-pow attack because total Ana move and redirected the energy towards the barrier. Obviously rocks are still going to fall down just not as many and stuff. At the end talks to the resisters like 'come on guyz rebuilding old BQ could be like, real cool. be chill' and basically implies that its a bad idea to keep fighting.
