he giveth and he taketh away; a quest - closed.

[Illae]

The greatest adventure of all had begun in the field. When Illae had discovered the Queen of Butterflies had fallen. The Queen’s weakened body crumpled between the grass blades a shimmer with morning dew, her wings damp and in tatters.  “Eat me girl,” the Queen had said to her. “Eat me and I’ll feed you my magic.” And so of course, Illae had obliged, she scooped the dying Queen into her mouth and had ground her down to butterfly dust with her teeth. The changing was rapid. And she felt the thrum of her new power entwine and embed itself within muscle, bone and blood. With every breath, every sigh, Illae breathed colour and the ability to create.  Slow at first, and then quickly, Illae had recreated her world with the vision of a child’s wild imagination. Red, for blood, for life. Yellow, for the sun. Pink, for the baby animals just like her. Green, for the grass, for the leaves and everything else wild. Purple, for the scary shadows which would be scary no more. Orange, for warmth. And blue, blue for the endless sky clear from cloud and storm. She had painted her world bright and colourful, a home for the butterflies, where the day and the warmth of the sun would stretch endless and forever. There was no angry here, no frowning faces or harsh words. All was as it should be, and for years she had ruled with her delicate smile and eyes that did not frown. Her subjects worshipped her, and for their undying love she gifted them her imagination and her foal-like exuberance in the way she ruled their world. With big brown eyes Illae surveyed her kingdom from the sky as she stood upon a raft crafted entirely of rainbow. Her raft afloat in the sky as it was borne on the back of her butterfly bearers, the beat and flutter of their wings never failing to waver beneath the strain of her weight. It was a tough job, a tiresome job. But that was why she had selected only the chosen, those who had the biggest wings and the brightest colours, the strongest who could bare her through the kingdom safe and unhurt. It was a privilege which was never granted lightly, and as such, her chosen butterflies wore their smiles well. There were others though, few at first, but then more. Those who had come to dislike her rule, who called her child and would speak out of turn, rebel and cause havoc. At first she had listened to them, her mother had so far raised her to be impartial, and she had tried to appease their discontent. She had offered them the nectar of the finest flowers, had banished the realm of all breezes. But it was not enough, they asked too much, and whilst they lived, (her raft bearers had told her) they spread their discord through the air.  She remembered when the time had come, and there had been no other choice. And Illae, still young in body, though older and wiser from her many years of rule, had told them sternly (and with her raft bearer’s unanimous approval) that her world of happiness could no longer be their home. They had glared at her, defiance and anger in their eyes, they had told her they would not go. And with her heart heavy, reluctantly Illae had agreed. No, they would not go. And so it she had them moulded into inhabitants much more manageable. She wore them now, they were the gems in her crown, their plucked wings all unique. It almost saddened her to know that each day the once weightlessness of her crown grew heavier and heavier with their dissent. But no matter, to linger on such sadness was a crime, and no Queen should disregard the laws she had held her people hostage to.  Beneath her, gathering on the grass and petals below, a swarm of her charges were congregating. “Put me down here.” Illae commanded softly of her raft bearers, and they lowered her down gently onto the grass. With the grace of a queen, she stepped from her rainbow and walked through the sea of fluttering wings, she felt their eyes on her, some wearing neutral expressions and others with a tempering anger. A feeling of trepidation began to creep along the length of her spine. And Illae knew this gathering was more than just communal. “You promised us no death.” The largest butterfly turned and addressed her, gesturing at the workmanship of her beautiful crown. “They caused dissent amongst the Kingdom, it was not a choice made lightly.” Illae calmly rebuked. “No, death is death.” He refuted her, and Illae could see the sorrow and the tears well in his eyes, the anger he harboured in his heart. “There is to be no sadness here, no grief!” Illae reminded him firmly. But it was too late for that, the butterfly ignored her and began to address the gathering hoard. “Brothers! Sisters! Behind the façade is a lie! Our Queen mangles our bodies, turns us into ornaments to wear at her pleasure. Rise now with me, let us take back the crown made from the bodies of our forefathers!” There was a chorus of cheers, and the trepidation she had felt transformed into despair. She had hoped that this would not end in the way of the others. “Very well,” she said, her words like a sigh, and Illae turned to her hand chosen few, her loyalists, her bodyguards, her justice of the law. “Raft bearers!” she commanded. “Bring me their wings!”  Her chosen flew out from under the rainbow raft. They were big, the largest of the largest of all the butterflies. They soared into the air, an army of righteousness for the laws of her kingdom, and swooped into the congregation of dissenters. There was a mash of wings and a whirlwind of darkness which shrouded the sun. Their bodies circled around one another, the battle only just beginning to rage. The colours of their wings bled into one another, then bled onto the ground. The blue turning to water, the red into blood. No… she thought desperately, it was not for them to wash her kingdom away. And Illae blew orange onto the blue and green onto the red. She painted with colours to stifle the flow, and yet the flow was unstoppable, and her colours joined the others to create a sea of brown. And Illae no longer stood upon the grass, but swam in an ocean beneath a darkening sky. Her kingdom faltering, drowning, being swept away. The darkness of a thousand dark wings sucking all light from the sky into a vacuum of inescapable blackness. There was no difference between her raft bearers and the usurpers now. They all wore dark wings, they were one and the same. They swooped down from the sky and plucked her from the ocean, grabbing her fur with their skinny insectoid legs which suddenly had claws. Their wings beating frantically as they carried her higher and higher. “Where are you taking me?” Illae began to sob. But they did not speak. They bore her through clouds of embers and ash, and she felt the heat sear into her flesh. “We will burn you,” they said, speaking as one. “turn your ash into dust and take back what should have always been ours.” “But you will die too.” She said through the helpless sobs of a child, and she could see that their wings already were alight with flame. “We are already dead.” And their bodies fell apart and their claws released her, and Illae fell from the sky. She fell through the burning heat, the smoke and the ash. And with the knowledge that her death was inescapable, she clenched her eyes shut. The last thing she saw would not be her kingdom deconstructed into ruin. Illae awoke her eyes wet and stinging hot with tears. The air was thick and heavy, the smoke blinding, there were embers floating in the air. It was hard to make out anything clear in the chaos, especially when her lashes were lined with ash.  She felt the presence of something large beside her, a protective shadow and a comfort in many ways. And Illae turned her tiny head and pressed her muzzle into the flesh of her mother. And with the realisation she recoiled with every ounce of strength she had left, with confusion, with sorrow. Too long had past, she had been a Queen, a ruler, had built her own kingdom and had watched it fall. but it had not been real… she told herself, this was real… Her mother turned at her touch, but her face was unrecognisable, a skull with melted flesh. Illae’s eyes grew wide with horror, the smoke thickening around them. Her mother rose, skeletal and loomed above her, the cinders falling from her body along with her charred flesh. “Where have you been child of mine?” Her mother reached out to her, as if to clean the grub from her baby fur after a day’s worth of adventure. But it was wrong, it wasn’t right. And Illae turned on her heel and fled. She ran past the corpses of her herd, past the charred bodies of other animals which lay dead or still wailing. She ran into the flame for the path to her escape led straight through it. She heard the beat of wings behind her and a new learned form of terror joined in on her chaos. She did not look behind her, did not look to see if the beat of wings was butterfly or bird. Illae just ran. The slope loomed large in front of her, the scattered stepping stones of rock were the only features of the mountain slope that made ascending the mountain possible for a foal of her size. And Illae launched herself upon them and clamoured up the mountain pass. From where she stood the destruction ravaged the world below, her other home, her real home, and in Illae’s young eyes, it was a second wave of horror if you will. There was no sorrow left for her to spill, she was left empty and wondering, the confusion of a child who had been through too much and left bare. Illae stood alone, safe for now, but she did not understand.

[leiland]

It had been ages since Leiland had dreamt of the mystery man. Dark as steel he had come in the night, stealing the silver boy away into the dark away from his mother and father.

Years they had spent together, living in the mountains and with a determined and fatherly nature, he taught Leiland how to speak, lead, and direct until one day the dark man left him with a gift. A gentle brush of the lips against his forehead at the age of three and suddenly the world went dark. Slowly he found himself curling up on the ground underneath a large oak and the deepest of sleep seemed to overtake him. The total of a year passed as he slept, and when he awoke he found himself covered in vines and moss and the soft pit pat of rain sung softly in his ears.

Standing slowly, he tore the vines that held him in a gentle cocoon and shook them free. With a soft gaze he looked around slowly before catching sight of a faint trail close by. "Father?" voice cracking from a lack of use he took a step forward before hesitating momentarily. The silence of the forest surrounding him was calm and peaceful and with sudden assurance he began to walk down the path that laid so carefully amongst the trees. Slowly over time the forest grew brighter as the trees became less dense and the soft glow of the morning sun licked at his silver coat as he stepped into a small clearing and up to a ledge, looking out over miles of land.

The beauty of it all was unmistakable. The grass was a deep shining emerald, tall and thick as it blew calmly in a soft breeze. The trees were full with leaves, the streams twinkling and crystal clear as they flowed gently through the hills. Small families dotted the clearings, foals running inbetween their mothers legs in joyous excitement. The birds overhead flew through the skies with grace and sung their morning songs as the small creatures of the forest made their way to forage and hunt for the morning meals. Butterflies dotted the fields of wildflowers and turtles happily rode on the backs of the crocodiles as they traveled through the lake.

Everything and everyone seemed to move in harmony. Arguments were nonexistent, hatred had become obsolete. The land as he once knew it was no more. His home had become the perfect place and as the sun reached it's full height he looked down once more only to notice every creature and horse staring up at him momentarily before going back to their morning activities. It was only then he noticed the smile on his face that had appeared the moment he saw them all staring up at him and the feeling of peace that filled him made him slowly close his eyes.

With a sudden jolt he awoke from his dream, a memory from the first time he found himself in the world he been given by the mystery man. A gift that seemed worthy enough to be passed down from father to son. For over those few years the pair had become just as much, and every day Leiland missed the man like a true son would miss his long lost father. Silently he moved forward, pushing through the brush into a small clearing and looking down he saw the golden mare he had grown to love over the last five years and at her side lay a cremello filly, the princess of their beautiful kingdom. With a gentle touch he leaned down, kissing her forehead as she woke and he breathed her name quietly in order not to wake his queen. The blue eyed girl stared up at Leiland and smiled sleepily before standing, her tail flicking back and forth and with ginger steps she moved towards him, pressing her side against his chest.

It was in this moment his heart filled with the most joyous love a parent could hold within them as he leaned down and wrapped his neck around hers, pulling her into a hug. He only pulled away slightly when he heard her gasp softly and then looked up to see what had filled her with wonder and excitement. Elegantly dancing through the air were dozens of fireflies surrounding them with a soft neon green glow. His daughter slowly reached her nose out towards them and one by one they flew down to bounce against her nose before all coming together and forming a small crown atop her her head inbetween her tiny ears.

The sight caused Leiland to smile, that is, until she sneezed making them all scatter in shock and it was then he began to chuckle before noticing the next sneeze, and then the next. And then the sneezing turned into coughing and with each cough came specks of blood. Then slowly with wide eyes and a gentle whimper the tiny girl, so young and delicate, looked up at her father before slowly crippling down to the ground. With a silent yell of desperation, he fell to his knees, trying to wrap her small frame in a tight hug but as his skin made contact with hers the small girl changed to dust and quickly blew away in the wind. With desperate screams, he found himself looking up towards his lover, his queen, his soulmate and as she stood up, tears rolling down her face with a silent scream caught in her throat he watched her too begin to turn to dust and then blow away.

And then it came, the agonizing screams and the pain of a true heart broken filling his chest and spreading to every corner of his body until he was too weak to stand and he collapsed completely onto the ground. Tears rolling down his cheeks, he gasped inbetween sobs until he heard the soft snap of a fallen branch and looked up, eyes wide in shock and fear, only to see himself surrounded by the creatures he had become friends with. Or for so long, had thought were friends. In these few moments, Leiland realize instead of being their friends, he had made them their servants, and finally they were turning on him. And their first move was taking the only two things that meant more than anything to him. Standing suddenly, he turned in a tight circle until finding the only opening and quickly he bolted through it, wolves and coyotes and bears following in pursuit.

Yet down the Mountain he ran, willing the power inside him that he so rarely used anymore to heighten the sound of his voice and suddenly he called out to the others, "Run!" he screamed. Over and over he yelled it as he watched the others turn and begin galloping towards the outskirts. And one by one, he watched them taken down by the predators of their world. Those who were not harmed he watched let their fear take over and within seconds, they were battling against eachother, their minds suddenly cursed as the used their teeth to rip out their own lovers throats and their hooves to bash in their own mothers skulls.

It was these sights that made him turn to the lakes, forgetting of crocodiles and other things that lurked in the deep waters. Racing towards it, he saw the water as hope and without looking behind him, he could hear they were gaining on him and right as he crashed into the water the closest wolf took hold of his ankle inbetween sharp teeth, causing him to come crashing down in the waves. Struggling, he kicked, hearing a loud squeal as he made contact with the wolf's jaw and then he found himself sinking below the waves. Tumbling he forced himself to kick despite the pain, trying his best to make it to the surface. And when he broke at the top, he gasped a lung-full of air before suddenly being pulled back under.

With desparate kicks he felt whatever it was that had taken hold of him let go and again, he broke the waters surface only to be pulled back under. Each and every time he could get a gasp of air, he was pulled back and then released. Finally he felt his lungs begin to burn painfully and each time he began to swallow more water and lose more energy to hold himself up above the surface. It was only when he finally started to sink on his own that he saw the crocodiles closing in, their eyes glowing bright orange and yellow before opening their jaws wide. The fear that consumed him then was nothing like the fear he would feel later. When he'd realize this was all a different reality.

And then their jaws clamped down and with a water filled scream he found himself truly waking in the Amazons, his first real home and with shock he took in sight of the smoke filled jungle and the flames licking at the tall trees. Moments passed as he took it all in, memories all rushing back to him of what was truly real, and stumbling to his feet he backed and then found himself turning on his haunches desperately searching for an escape route. It took only moments to realize he would have to run through the flames in order to free himself and start making a way to somewhere that may not be ravaged by the fires. Trying to decide which way to take, it was at this moment he heard the distant screams of others being unable to escape the flames.

It was the sound of their traveling agony that caused him to bolt and run through the line of flames, screaming painfully as they burned his legs and the underside of his stomach. Despite the searing pain and smell of burning skin, he pushed himself to move as quickly as he could as the fires overtook the lands behind him. Again he was running from the beasts of the land. Just this time instead of predatory and rabid animals turned against him, it was the wildfires destroying his homeland. He watched as trees snapped at their centers and came crashing down on others trying to escape and quickly he curved towards the mountains when he noticed the earth began to open and swallow unaware escapees.

The land was destroying itself it seemed, and taking its residents with it. Tears streaming down his face, he gasped ragged breaths as he continued to run soon joining a small herd of others and running alongside them. That is until he watched as each one by one fell behind and tired and were overtaken by the flames or collapsed from running themselves to death. Each time he'd look back and yell encouragement until he saw they weren't going to make it and each time he cried a little bit harder until finally there were only three of them left, including himself. It seemed like years before they finally reached the mountainside and together began to climb as quickly as possible, forgetting simply to be careful.

Fear had overtaken them all and it pushed them to move faster and faster as they moved further up. It was the lack of focus on his step and true direction that caused Leiland to not react in time when the one infront of him came crashing down, their hooves having caught a loose set of stone and losing their hold. Quickly they fell and took Leiland with them, knocking him down on his front knees and his face slamming against the ground. Gravel met skin and on the left side of his face they cut jagged lines down his cheek and over his eye. Stunned he slowly looked up, watching in what seemed like slow motion as the other rose back to their feet and looked back at him before turning quickly and moving quickly up the trail to the top of the mountain. With shaky vision, he willed himself to slowly stand, knees shaking as he reached his full height, before shaking his head slightly.

There was ringing in his ears, and he stumbled slightly as world spun around him before he was finally able to stand still and close his eyes. He could smell the destruction of the land, hear the dying screams, sense the pain, anger and desparation of those who made it. And then he opened his eyes slowly and looked around him before finally stepping forward, pushing himself to crawl up the rest of the trail to join the others. By the time he reached the gathering crowd that stood and watched as Beqanna burned, the left side of his face and neck had become soaked in his own blood and sweat and despite the throbbing pain he felt in his legs and face he pushed himself through the crowd, to get a front seat viewing of what the true damage was.

It was then he realized all of it was gone. And the only remaining things left alive where those who stood on the mountainside, lucky enough, or even tragic enough to escape the worldwide destruction. Against the midnight sky, the red and orange glow of the fire and the sky blackened as smoke drew a painted picture of total and utter chaos. Charred earth, and crumbling bodies lay for everyone to see for miles. And as he turned to look at those amongst him, he realized he saw nobody. Not his family, nor the others he grew up with. And somehow deep down he realized that he was alone. They were gone. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Slowly he lowered himself to the ground, allowing himself to lay down before his legs finally gave out and with an exhausted gasp, he found himself crying once more. He cried for the lives lost, and the destruction of everything he knew and loved. He cried for those who lost children, and lovers. For those who lost their mothers and fathers, their brothers and sisters. He cried for their hearts. And he cried for a world charred and black.

Their world and their lives were no more.
The only question left was, "what now?"

[heartworm]

this one goes out to you; my little h e a r t w o r m In the beginning Heartworm created the heavens and the earth; though she did not know it was her creation. This earth was formless and empty, darkness presiding. She didn’t like the darkness, because in the darkness she was not Heartworm but a skeleton, her strange, cursed lot. She did not know she was a god, but one day, there in the dark, she whispered to herself: let there be light. And light came, a brilliant sun bursting into existence. Light came, and Heartworm created the first shadow. It was the shadows that she most disliked. She banished the darkness, filled the world with suns, with a dazzling light. She had no need for the darkness, and so it was cast away. She could never quite get rid of the shadows, so they remained, the only reminder of the world that had existed in the time Before. The world thrives in its perpetual sunlight. The meadows grow lush and the springs swell. Even when it rains, it is light, and the sky turns to rainbows. She no longer turns to a skeleton, because there is no longer a nighttime to make her do so. At first she is alone in this world, and she does not mind. She was always alone, Before, keeping to herself because she did not want them to see the way night turned her skin to candlewax, the way it dripped off of her, leaving her naught but bones. The animals come first. She dreams flocks of birds into existence. They are brightly feathered, rainbows of color, males and females alike. They are not like anything that existed Before. Some of them are impossibly large, more dragon than bird. She climbs atop their backs, at first precariously, then bravely. The bird takes her up into the clouds, into the sun, and although she thinks of the story of Icarus, of wax wings melting, nothing happens, she does not fall. She touches the sun and it should have burned it, it should have been impossible, but instead it makes her radiant. She rises, her reign begins. After the birds she populates the forest. She creates deer, colors them snow-white rather than brown. From their head she makes branches rather than antlers sprout. She creates panthers and lions. She leaves the panthers black but she dresses them in jewels, collars dripping sapphires and rubies. She makes the lions’ manes so bright it seems like a sunburst. She makes all sorts of creatures, fantastical ones, brightly colored. They live in peace; the deer lay with the lions. There are no predators, no prey. All is well. And one day, there is a stallion. He is a jewel purple, so deep it’s nearly black. His name is Corsair, a name that feels rich on her tongue. He has a warrior’s build, strong, but the eyes are gentle and when they fall on her, they are stunned. (She has colored herself a sapphire blue, and she catches light the way jewels do, so she should not be surprised. She is not surprised, in this iteration.) They fall in love and it feels natural. The world around them is what’s real. She forgets about Before. She forgets she was ever a walking skeleton. She forgets about the way her mother broke her, the madness shining bright as any jewel in her eyes. Then, there is a daughter. Heartworm does not recall birthing her; rather, she woke up one day to find a child between them, and suddenly, they are a family. They name the girl Iris, for the goddess of the rainbow, as her color changes from day to day. She is beautiful. Heartworm watches her play with the fawns in the meadow, hiding in flowers as big as she is, and thinks her heart might burst from her chest with this much love. She makes things for Iris, shapes trees like hearts. She gives her wings like the birds have and watches, thrilled, as her daughter soars among them, backlit by the sun. Iris does not age; she stays eternally a child, always innocent. Heartworm does not think this strange. She has forgotten about Before. She has forgotten there was a time when she was not a god. She builds them a castle. The animals help. They gather stones and place them, seal them. She makes flowers grow up the walls. She fills the moat with water lilies. She fills rooms with diamonds that refract the light, make every moment dazzling. She makes beds of straw, soft and clean. She cuts a brook through one room, crystal clear and cool. It is their kingdom, their Mt. Olympus. It is a fortress, too, but there is no need for such things. It is a long time – a good time – until she finds the first bird. She is walking, following Iris, who has scampered on ahead. The bird is twisted strange, wings at awkward angles. It is one of the smaller birds, one of her earlier creations. It is dead. She has forgotten what death is, for a moment her brain reels trying to comprehend it. She thinks, fly. She thinks, live. At the second thought, the bird twitches for a moment, then goes still. She tries to banish the thought, walks on after Iris. She returns to the bird, later, alone. She hopes it will be gone. It is not, but it is now covered in flies. She had not created flies. She tries to banish them, smite them from existence, but they ignore her. They make a meal of her bird. The stench of decay begins, and that night she dreams of melting. After that bird, things change quickly. She notices the corpses of other birds. Some of the birds are alive, but sick. They ask her to cure them. She tries and cannot, and they screech at her. They lose their language. They lose their colors. It is a plague, and they are dying. The deer are next. Their branches snap off. They no longer want to play with Iris. Flies buzz about them, eat the eyes from the sockets while the collapse, helpless. She tries to hide Corsair and Iris. She hides them in the castle. She tells them not to leave. She tells them she will keep them safe. Promises. They believe her. It’s not just the plague that comes. She hears a scream, one day. She hasn’t heard such a noise since Before. She rushes out, sees a panther descending upon one of her white stags, felling it. The deer screams. The panther screams.  They have lost their language, too, adopted a new and feral tongue. The panther rips the deer open and feasts on its heart while the light goes from its eyes. Every day the animals die. Most die from the plague. They lose their size and color. She begins to see skeletons, and the sight unnerves her in ways she cannot describe. Most of the animals die outside the castle, like they were coming to her. For her. It isn’t long before things begin to burn. She looks outside and the air is black with smoke. It is hard to breathe. Iris cries, and Heartworm does her best to comfort her. Iris has never known any kind of darkness. The world is all shadows, now. It gets darker. There are fewer animals, but the ones that have survived pace outside the castle walls and shriek and howl. Corsair’s eyes begin to go glassy. He doesn’t speak as much. When she tries to talk to him he stares back like he no longer understands what she’s saying, like she’s speaking a foreign language. He snaps not long after. She finds him in one of the rooms, crashing against the walls. He is bloodied, screaming. There is blood on the diamonds, blood everywhere. She cannot understand the words. He is panicked, but when she tries to soothe him he lashes out, attacks her. She lowers she drawbridge for him because she doesn’t know what else to do. She watches as he runs out, wild. She doesn’t watch as the remaining panther slinks out, a necklace of tarnished jewels on its neck. She doesn’t watch, but she hears the shrieks, the sounds of feasting. She grabs Iris and rocks her, tries to hum lullabies above the screams. Eventually, they are all that’s left. The animals are gone. Corsair is gone. Even the flies are gone. The flowers wilt and die. They had never needed to eat but they are hungry, now. They venture out. The world burns. There is nothing. Iris takes a mouthful of ash in desperation, tries to swallow and coughs instead. She watches Iris die. She cannot do anything. Starvation is not kind. One day Heartworm cannot get her to wake. She strokes the emaciated body. Iris is practically a skeleton, skin stretched drumskin-tight over bones. She thinks, fly. She thinks, live. But there is not even a twitch. She tries, for the last time, to make flowers grow. To leave some kind of gravestone. But there is nothing, only shadows. Heartworm does not want to leave her side. But she is not dying quickly enough. There is nothing, but there is a cliff. She doesn’t know what’s below it. She never created that far. She runs. It hurts to run. But it feels good to hurt, to have a pain besides the loss of her daughter, her lover, the world she’s breathed life into, of flowers and jewels. The cliff crumbles beneath her. She falls. She wakes. For a moment there is only a dizzying, staggering confusion. The air is still acrid. The air smells and tastes of smoke. She is choked with it. She is up before she knows what’s happening. She is running before she remembers Iris, Corsair, the world they built. She tries to stop but there is a press of other horses, all running, and she is swept up along them. She realizes something: they are alive. She is not alone. But she had died alone. She had gone off the cliff alone. She realizes the grass beneath her feet is green. That overheard, birds are flying. They are not the brilliant rainbow colors like the birds she created, but they are alive. All around her, life. All around her, shadow. It’s not the same world, but it’s burning in much the same way. The realization comes as she stands, sides heaving, covered in ash. This is Beqanna. This is Beqanna, and it is burning.

[Tyrna]

Tyrna If we don't make it alive, well it's a hell of a good day to die The night air danced coolly along Tyrna's dark skin. The breeze tousling her starlight mane and ruffling gunmetal feathers. She stood alone, perched precariously along a high ridge to gaze out over her kingdom. It all felt too good to be true, but after all the blood, sweat, and tears that she had poured into the land it couldn't be. Ruling a small but prosperous kingdom with her love at her side was the dream she had as a child to help her sleep at night, and now it was a reality. She had spent years shaping her home into what it was now.It was her safe haven, her pride and joy. At last she had found Utopia. Launching herself from the peak she was standing on, the steel woman tucked her wings and dove, unfolding them at the last minute before flying off to find her consort. She loved the power and strength that she carried in her owl like wings. The freedom she had now was incomparable to anything she had felt before they had found their slice of paradise. She remembered the long but relatively uneventful journey like it happened mere minutes ago. It had taken some time for the Falls to fully regain its power. As the magic in the waters had grown so to had her wings, and with them the need to explore and carve out a piece of the world for herself. She wanted to live a peaceful, quiet life away from her demons and the politics of Beqanna,  but she knew she wouldn't last on her own. The wolf in her head had lain dormant for months and through her dedication to the Falls she had gained the ability to heal and grow things. It was then that she decided her time had come. The day she had been set to leave she tracked down Contagion. He was quiet as she told him of her plan to leave but in the end he agreed to go with her. They traveled from their comfortable home in the Falls,  and spent the months it took to reach the coast getting to know one another better. They took their time, no reason to rush and not wanting to risk unnecessary injury. Looking back it was one of Tyrna's favorite memories. They whispered sweet nothings to eat other and swapped their darkest secrets. Through it all the be a in her head stayed quiet leading her to believe it would stay that way. After a month of slow travel and simple companionship the adventurous couple reached the coast of Beqanna near the Gates. Without a backward glance they had started the hardest part of their journey. Contagion's wings were not built for flight but using the power the Falls had given her, Tyrna had been able to heal his wounds and make his wings grow stronger allowing them to fly together. Luckily Tyrna had been able to shoulder most of his fragile weight and use her large powerful wings to help him glide. When the street of flying became too much for his body, they would spend the night huddled together on foreign sands. Again they took their time, not wanting to settle somewhere any less than perfect. After a month of hopping from land mass to land mass they found it. Rising out of the sapphire ocean waters they found home. Tyrna was the first to suggest landing on the tiny island and they were due for a rest stop anyway. She wasn't sure if it had been the sparkling, white sands or viridian forests that drew her eye. They spent the first night sleep under the stars and the next morning planning their new life. Together they had explored the island taking stock of the abundant flora and fauna. The climate was mildly warm and slightly balmy and perfect. They spent the first week exploring. Finding the best watering holes and tenderest grasses by day, and sleeping peacefully under the stars each night. They a small mountain glade surrounding a rushing waterfall and decided to claim that place for themselves. The inhabitants they encountered were friendly, stocky ponies, if somewhat rudimentary in nature. Predators were few and what little they encountered Tyrna had been able to chase off earning her the respect of the small scale herds. Months passed and using her powers of growth Tyrna was able to make the plants and animals flourish. She spent her free time teaching the scattered herds to speak her language and uniting them into larger herds to further aid in their survival. It wasn't until Tyrna slew a giant leopard that had been plaguing the ponies ,that they agreed to unite into one society under her guidance and eventual rule. Contagion had also adapted well to the environment. His unique build delighting and entertaining the locals. They lavished him with love and took special care to keep his glass frame intact. She was a kind and just queen helping the land grow and cultivating new pastures to expand the population. Her talents made her respected but her new outlook made her beloved. From shore to shore all of the creatures in her domain were happy and healthy, following her word like gospel. Since the beginning of her leadership the mortality rate had dropped and herd health was at a high.  Even the woodland creatures that shared the island with them were happy and healthy and followed her as she went about her day. As it was the night air was a welcome relief. The days in paradise had become increasingly hot and muggy due in part she was sure from the mountain in the middle of the island. From her vantage point, drifting in the midnight sky, she was able to easily locate the waterfall that was the jewel of her  kingdom, and her home. Over the years she had grown and shaped the overarching trees to form a cozy love nest for her and her love. Their tree house was made from wisteria that she had coaxed from the ground providing a romantic atmosphere year long. Riding the currents, Tyrna drifted down, landing on a rocky ledge outside the tree house. There had been some recent disturbances, foals missing and strange paw prints, within her borders which was why she was out so late patrolling. Now the steel queen was just happy to be home. She could hear the hints of gentle snoring over the roar of the waterfall and a smile lit up her face. Ducking her head under sweeping flowers and tucking her cumbersome wings tightly she crossed the threshold to her favorite sight in the world. Curled up, lying on a bed of soft moss was her love, her glass man, her Contagion. She could see in the dim moonlight the rise and fall of his chest and gave thanks that he lived another day. At his side, covered protectively with a paper wing, was the source of the snoring. A tiny bundle of long legs and delicate features, their son. The colt was a beautiful combination of her steel and Contagion's glass. The boy was dark and solidly built like her, but graced with tiny paper wings reminiscent of his father. Tyrna spent several heartbeats just looking at them and letting the feelings of peace and love wash over her. For the first time, as she crossed over to lay beside them, she felt like she belonged. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, but it was the howls that woke her first. In the distance, an unearthly song rang out and chilled her blood. It had been so long since she had heard the voice of a wolf and immediately she was terrified. It had been years since the wolf had left and the thought of it coming back was enough to set her scrambling to her feet, heart pounding with adrenaline. It was then that she noticed the orange glow beyond the leaves that comprised her roof. There had been small earthquakes over the years, originating from the base of the mountain. Tyrna was concerned at first , but was reassured by her people that they were normal and happened fairly regularly. Within the last month the earthquakes had increased in magnitude, irritating the wild critters of the forest more than normal. Tyrna had brushed it off as an anomaly and life went on. Now she was paying for her casual indifference. The sky was mottled bright orange and bruised purple, beneath her feet she felt ominous rumblings, and through it all the frenzied howls. Frantically she looks around her house made with love, looking desperately for her partner and son. Of course they are nowhere to be seen. She assumes they left before this all started to spend time together. A frustrated roar rips it’s way up her throat as she takes a running leap of the edge of the ledge. Her wings snap open before she hits the ground and she is off looking for the two most important people in her life. The air is hard to fly through as she makes her way across the sky. Chock full of smoke and ash, Tyrna can hardly see a foot in front of her. The howls are louder now both on the ground and more terrifyingly ringing in her own head. A voice she hasn’t heard in years is reawakening, drawn to the surface by it’s haunting brethren. All around she hears the sounds of panic and stampedeing accompanied by harsh screams from the dead and dying. Tyrna makes for the ground quickly. Ahead of her the quaint little mountain is spewing ash and smoke, rock and flame. It’s not a full blown explosion but it is soon to be. She is running now. Galloping as hard as she can, her voice hoarse from screaming and her lungs burning from drawing in smoke. “Contagion! Thyras! It’s mommy! Where are you?!” She is running on repeat as she pounds down what were once peaceful trails and meadows that had now become fields of slaughter. Everywhere she turns she sees the wolves. Wolves that had previously gone unnoticed and unobtrusive were everywhere. They snapped at the weak and the young, herding them into more manageable and fearstricken positions. Poised for the kill. A grim determination fills the steel queen. The beast inside her delighted in the chaos and slavered at the slaughter. This was the perfect bloodbath. Tyrna could feel the ripples start under her skin. She was running out of time before she would be joining the fray. The time of the beast was creeping closer upon her as she thundered after her family and the sky lit on fire before her. With a thunderous boom the top of the mountain exploded in fire and brimstone. Molten rock raced down the sides to engulf the surrounding area in a nightmare. Added now were the screams of burning animals to the symphony of slaughter. It was an absolute massacre. The further into the forest she ran, the slicker the ground became with the blood of her kingdom. She almost tripped as one of the mares she had befriended ran screaming across her path, on fire and missing a chunk in her side large enough to see bone through. Entrails were scattered along the ground miked with scraps of fur and the odd limb. Bursting through the undergrowth she saw up ahead Contagion and their son. They had been cornered between a hungry pack and the encroaching lava. Contagion valiantly tried to stave of the pack as they snapped at his heels attempting to separate him from the colt. Tyrna could see the hope spark as soon as her love spotted her. She would protect them just as she always had. Their brief moment of eye contact was enough however. Contagion letting his guard down was just enough for one of the wolves to duck in and snap at his hind leg. With a sickening shattering sound and a horrific scream, the love of her life fell to the jaws of the wolves and all of her worst fears were realized. She watched helplessly, still too far away, as the terrible beasts crunched their way through glass skin and snapped hollow bones. Her son tried to run towards her while the wolves were distracted by the easy meal. Tyrna unfurled her wings hoping to gain ground as she ran and glided towards her boy, here baby, the last piece she had left. They were nearly within reach of each other when a stream of magma crashed down and swallowed her son before her eyes. Paper wings burned instantly, and he didn’t even have time to scream. With a grief crazed cry Tyrna jerked awake. Her throat felt raspy from crying and yelling but that wasn’t all. She was back in the Falls where she had first began her strange journey, but the world was still burning. She quickly stumbled from her cave to see that the forests around the waterfall were burning merrily and the waters themselves had started to dry up from the heat. Tyrna attempted to launch into the sky to break free from the smoke and flames, but looking down she saw that her once glorious wings were back to barely feathered nubs. In a blind panic she ran calling out for her family. “Contagion! Mom! Help!” She could feel the blind panic as it clawed at her throat and the wolf was oddly quiet. She screamed for Contagion as she ran hoping against hope that she wouldn’t lose him again. Cresting a small rise on the outskirts she finds a small band of survivors gathered and milling about in shock and panic. Quickly she makes her way through calling for her friends and family, but she soon realizes it’s futility. They aren’t here. She is alone, surrounded by strangers. So the girl of wolf and steel does the only thing she can do. She watches her world burn. Silver dapple sabino|Mare|Andalusian Hybrid|Falls