"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
They all come and they all face the monstrous ferocity of the dragon in their own ways. And they all find answers to the riddle of the princess in the tower. But, you see, this story is only traditional in its setting, and those that pause to ask would quickly discover the princess does not actually need rescuing. Those that made attempts to rescue the princess find themselves engulfed in a wash of dragon fire. Certainly you must have known the dragon would not be so accommodating. Luckily for you, it is magical dragonfire, and rather than being burned to a crisp as one might expect, you find yourself transported back home in a wash of mysterious green flames.
Rebelle and Lilian, for rescuing the princess, you have been eliminated. Velkan has also been eliminated for failure to follow the storyline through (sorry Velkan, I needed to know how you’d respond to the princess in the tower too!)
For failure to respond, Flutter and Demetyr have been eliminated. Futter has been cursed with tongue paralysis for one BQ year (two real life months). She will be able to speak, but it will be garbled and unintelligible. Demetyr has been cursed with sand-skin for one BQ year (two real life months). Her skin will be flakey and dry, shedding sand everywhere she goes.
Kha
Kha has had the misfortune of discovering an evil princes who keeps her dragon as a guard dog. The princess is not a kind one, but somehow you must free yourself and find the door tucked in a corner of the golden throne room. Freedom awaits on the other side of that door, leading down into a cave.
Beulah
The princess, heartened by your kindness in asking if she needs help, comes to rescue you before the dragon can send you away in a wash of flame like he had Velkan. You soon discover that the dragon serves as the princess’ protector rather than her keeper. She is a kind soul, despite her fearfulness of the outside world, and she shows you the way through, a cave in the cliff around the back of the castle.
Popinjay
It’s not often the princess gets visitors here mistaking her dragon topiary for the real thing. When the story comes out, she finds it vastly amusing. And once she is able to stop chuckling, she shows you the way out. A cave in the cliff around the back of the castle.
Larke
The princess is incredibly touched by your kindness in caring for her guardian. Very few see beyond his fearsome facade and are able to discern the truth behind their situation. To repay your kindness, she takes you in and allows you the rest you need to recover. Once you are well enough to continue, she shows you the way out, a cave in the cliff around the back of the castle.
Aislyn
Aislyn too has the misfortune of finding the princess an evil one keeping the poor dragon as a pet. After fleeing the castle’s keep, you become lost in the jungle. You must find your way once more and sneak past the castle to find the cave nestled in the cliff. It’s the only exit.
Aedan and Pteron
Aedan and Pteron have teamed up to take up negotiations with the dragon and princess at the same time, only to discover the princess is not actually a captive and that the dragon appears loyal to her. The two-headed dragon spends some time arguing with itself over whether or not to simply eat Pteron. Poor nervous Lenny however, insists they bring him to the princess lest she find out later and they get in trouble. With both Aedan and Pteron now at her mercy, she gives them her price for their release. A story. It’s very lonely out here, after all, with only a two headed dragon for company. Once their story is told, they will be escorted to the exit, a cave in the cliff around the back of the castle.
****************************
All have made their way past the princess and the dragon and now face the dark and unknown depths of the cave they had found themselves, through various means, in. It’s clear there is only one way out. Down.
And so, down they must go.
Time seems meaningless here, endless and indeterminate with no light to guide your path. Only an uneven floor and rough walls to tell you where to go. Eventually a blue glow becomes noticeable in the distance. As those intrepid adventurers close the distance, the light grows stronger, suffusing the tunnels until one can see clearly enough to notice the stone walls appear to be growing… clearer?
And the further on you go, the clearer they become, until you are in a tunnel of crystal stone through which you can see the bottom of the ocean and the life it contains. Further still and you begin to climb once more. Up and up and up until you break free from the ocean, sunshine bright and blinding, glinting of the golden spires of a city.
But you haven’t the chance to discover more of that city. Before you can, what seems like an army rushes you, surrounding you until you have no choice but to face them. And as you peer at them, you notice they are all similar, rather odd looking creatures. They sport cloven front hooves, deer antlers sprouting from their heads, and from their shoulders massive wings. The more you look, the odder they become, for you soon notice their rear limbs are distinctly bird-like, with clawed feet and feathered tails.
It’s clear they do not wish you to pass.
However, you notice one seems a little different. He stands slightly apart from the rest and appears uncomfortable. Visually, there is something different about - or around - him as well. It takes you a moment to place what it is. And now, you must decide how this information can help you, and what you will do to escape this situation.
*****************************
Congratulations on making it through to the final round. We’ve tested your minds and mettle, and now, it is time to test both. So, brave explorers, why is the creature mentioned above different from the rest? And how can you use that information to escape this rather sticky situation you’ve found yourself in?
In this round, the only “right” or “wrong” answer is what is different about the creature as compared to the rest (and this answer is somewhat up for debate, so there are actually multiple correct answers that would be accepted). What you do with that information is entirely up to you.
You have until Monday, October 7th at Midnight CST to respond. Good luck!
Once the initial surprise of his weighted golden hooves passed it did not take long for Kha to remember one crucial thing, he was part ghost. How could he of possibly forgotten this it had been the only reason he had been able to make it this far. Kha shifted easily out of existance on the living plane once more, and as the horrid "princess" screamed in frustration at her lost prize he maneuvered silently to the edge of the room. He sauntered around the walls eyes rolling at the banshees screeches, if he was alive he was sure his head would be pounding right now.
Eventually he found the door hidden in the walls creavesous and his escape went uncomplicated down the pitch black tunnel. It was another journey of this crazy quest that was devoid of time, it was a good thing he was accustom to passing long periods of time. He shifted in and out of existance as he went just to make sure he wasn't passing straight through the walls and into nothingness. The tunnel opened up slightly, the darkness being replaced with a bottom that seemed as if it was built out of glass. Water and aquatic life dimly glowed beneath him - he would have to make sure he didn't shift out of existance here and right into the ocean. His eyes followed a silver, shiney school of fish following him from below not paying attention to where he was going or the time that was passing and his upward climb.
Before he knew it he was ascending into blinding daylight. A city rose before him but he didn't have time to take it in before an army of creatures began to swarm him. They were odd creatures he discovered, as his eyes began to adjust. They appeared as if they were part buck and bird all in one, beautiful and intimidating. Kha backed up slightly as they towered around him. Beady eyes bore in to him accompanied by silent mouths. If it's not to much to ask, could someone tell me where I am at? he asked as casually as he could eyes darting between creatures his interest always coming back to one who looked younger, nervous, out of place. His head shifted up as he tried to peek the city behind the herd of soldiers - no luck.
He gave a huff of frustration as he stared at the ground. His frustration didnt stick around long though as he spotted the shadows of those before him, all of their true form that stood before him, except the young one who didnt quite belong. His resembled the two legged creature "princess" he had just escaped, a human maybe?
His ears perked as an idea came to his mind, Look, I get it. I don't belong here to your city or whatever, but I am not the threat. Truth be told I am only here because if you go back the way I came you would find a creature much more imposing. She stands on two long legs, and has a small pinched face crowed with golden hair. She has appendages that spring from her upper torso that take and take what ever she likes. She tried to take me, hold me as a trophy. I am only trying to escape. She is the real threat and I would gladly leave this place if she were to not exist. In fact I believe I will take my leave now before she catches up. and with that, Kha shifts out of existance leaving the creatures with his information to do with as they please while he searches for a way home.
KHA
it doesn't matter what world you live in; it only matters what world lives in you
carried by the current of the morning miles below the surface of the dawn
When she comes to, it is the girl’s kind face that she sees. She is pale and frightened still, but kind, and although she looks nothing like she has ever seen before, Larke does not feel any fear. The girl strokes her face, whispering to her, and Larke feels something like relief to know that she had not misjudged the situation. To know that she had not been just foolish in trying to help the fearsome beast.
And she feels an endless wave of gratitude—for helping her rest, helping her heal.
The lay like that for a while, Larke’s tired head in the woman’s lap, and she listens to the girl talk of how they have been attacked—at how fiercely her dragon protector has had to fight and the wounds that had begun to pile up. Larke smiles at that, fatigued but glad to know she had been able to bolster the creature.
And when she finally is able to regain her strength, she lifts herself to her feet, shaking the flowers in her mane until they nearly bloom, and she follows the girl down to the cave. It is clear to Larke that this is what the two have been trying so hard to guard, and she does not ask why it is just the two of them now.
The sadness in the girl’s eyes is answer enough.
The two of them embrace before the princess hurries her along and Larke turns her attention toward the path that winds and weaves before her. Here, again, she feels the rhythm of her fear return—the nerves that bite at her as the path grows dark and uneven and then lighter and lighter. She is not certain whether she is relieved to be able to see again or more frightened when she looks up to see the ocean pounding above her, but she reminds herself that she has been able to survive this far. She is not so weak after all.
Straightening her shoulders, she continues forward. Past the fish and the tide and then up and further up, the strain of it making her legs ache. When she emerges, the city is blinding. Golden and ethereal and though she does not have a name for the legend, it strikes at the very core of her as something precious.
She blinks against the light and then feels a shiver race up her spine when her vision comes into focus. The creatures before her are more familiar than the girl had been but she has no name for them. They are part stag—the antlers, at least, are familiar for her—and part bird—the wings make her ache for her mother—but there is something fierce about them, something cold, and she pauses, caught before them.
They say nothing, but she notices the way that they shuffle together and lock as if in formation. The way that they size her up and peer behind her; the tension in the air is palpable and she wants to cry out to them that she is not a danger—that she means no harm. But out of the corner of her eye, she sees a shadow along the ground that snags her attention. The rest of their shadows reflect themselves back at them, as strange and fearsome as they may be, but there is another whose shadow is different.
It does not match the creature at all.
It looks like—well, it looks like the girl she had just said farewell to.
Larke moves forward out of instinct more than anything toward the creature that has at least the shadow of her friend but the creature does not return the motion. Instead, it merely grows more and more uncomfortable, fidgeting while the rest of the army presses closer together, as if readying themselves.
“Help,” she manages, her voice thick in her throat. “She needs help. It’s just a girl now—she looks like this,” she motions to the shadow,” and the dragon and they are tired. Everyone else is—,” she shakes her head because it feels too bleak to say it, “is gone. They were protecting you right? Helping guard this?”
She looks around to the splendor and the faces that she can see now in the city. The ones who regard her with the same fear and concern that the princess had from the window, the ones who clutch at their children and drag them closer. Larke can only imagine what the dragon must be guarding from now.
“I’m not here to hurt you, but I need to give you this message: she needs help.”
And then she does the only thing that she can: she waits.
this is not the place that I was born in but it doesn't mean it's not the place where I belong
Her initial instinct that the way she had come would not lead her to an exit had been correct.
This had become frustratingly clear the longer she wandered the depths of the jungle, and finally she had to accept defeat and head back towards the castle. Stepping gingerly across the bridge and hugging close to the rocky walls of the mountain, she eyed the castle carefully. Through the pane of a window she could see the sillouhette of the princess, and cautiously she crept around the back of it, before disappearing into the depths of the cave.
She blinks, trying to adjust her eyes to the immense darkness, but it is to no avail. There is nothing but an endless black, and with her shoulder barely brushing against the side of the cave wall, she begins to feel her way forward. She is not sure how long she walks. It feels like hours, though perhaps it was not quite so long. Time didn’t have the same meaning when lost in the dark, it seemed.
When a faint light begins to glow in the distance she is almost certain it is her eyes playing tricks on her.
The further she walks, however, the brighter it becomes. At first, there is a swelling of delight in her chest; a flicker of hope. It is quickly doused with fear and apprehension. So far, nothing about this adventure had been easy. It had not occured to her until this very moment that she might be trapped here – in this universe, wherever here was – forever. Much as before, she wants to turn back. She doesn’t want to face whatever is waiting for her at the end of this tunnel. But, just as with the sphinx and the castle, she has learned that the only way out of here is forward.
The walls around her begin to clear, the stone slowly disappearing and melding into a crystalline texture. The sight of the ocean beneath her causes her breath to catch in her throat, and for a moment she is too transfixed by the bright blue of the water to feel afraid, or to notice that she was suddenly traveling upward. But the vibrancy of the city – spires stretching into the sky, and ivory columns holding up magnificant buildings – demands her attention, and her curosity is piqued as she nears the end of the tunnel.
Hardly has she reached the exit before she is surrounded by a swarm of creatures, and they cause her to startle backwards.
With her heart hammering anxiously against her ribs she stares at them, her vivid pink eyes wide with alarm. She has seen many strange things, being born in Beqanna, but she cannot recall seeing anything like these creatures. “Oh,” she gasps softly when a few of them step aggresively towards her, and instinctively she tucks her nose towards her chest, her slender ears flattening slightly. She realizes quickly that she cannot fight them all, but she isn’t sure exactly how she is suppose to convince them to let her pass, either. They all watch her, with the nearly black eyes of a stag, their bird-wings rustling and their back talons clawing at the dirt. The sunlight glints off the green hues of their coats, and when she finally gathers the courage to look up, she notices there is one off to the side that is pointedly avoiding her gaze.
He is different from the rest of them. At first, it is his physical formation that she notices. Where the others had more bird-like features, this one resembled more of a stag. Save for the blue-green coloring, and the bird wings that he kept tucked at his sides, he was almost entirely deer. When her eyes drifted downward to compare his legs – all four deer-like and cloven-hooved – to his companions, that is when she notices the shadow. Where the others had shadows that reflected everything about them, physically, his was casting the shadow of a human.
A human, much like the princess that had been holding the dragon captive.
“You’re different from them,” she says, taking a slow but unafraid step in his direction. She can feel the others pressing closer to her, and she tries to ignore the fact that it would be easy – so easy – for the tines of their antlers to break through her skin, to break her bones and spill her blood on the seemingly pristine grounds of this once lost city. He watches her, the one that is not like the rest, and while he does not speak to her, she finds a way to understand him. He puts it there, in her mind, an almost gruesome image – flocks of peryton taking the lives of a human, and in the aftermath of the bloodshed, their shadows are changed, and with that there is a sort of relief. A peace, for them.
For a moment, she hesitates.
The princess had been keeping the dragon chained to the castle. But was that a crime punishable by death? The conflict could have eaten her alive on the inside, if it wasn’t for the army continuing to jostle closer, and the feel of an antler suddenly pressing harshly against her flank spurs her decision. “Follow me,” she says to the unique peryton, and while avoiding eye contact with the rest of them she turns back into the tunnel, leaving behind Atlantis and hoping that he will follow.
And hoping that whatever happens, she will be able to live with her decision.
Relief washes over him when the Princess asks only for a story. That is something he can do, and truthfully, he is happy to give her a story. She is not necessarily nice, but she isn’t mean either, and Aedan finds that he sort of likes this Princess. “Oh, I know a good one,” he says, almost eager, hoping it’s one Pteron also knows but he thinks the older stallion probably does, and can build on where he begins. After all, there are few in Beqanna that don’t know about the Reckoning.
“There is a price for greed,” he begins, voice a little more sober now, the cadence of his speaking slower. He has listened to his mother tell him this story so many times and he mimics the way she tells it now. “Where we come from, the magic of our world is controlled by faeries. Tiny, beasty little things - some more than others.” He has never met one of the faeries, but his father has and many others besides. He’s heard rumors of them, including the beautiful white and purple one with a mane and tail of wysteria who is not nearly so kind as her outside might make you think. Some of them are kinder than she and some are not.
“Once, they gave magic out freely. It flowed through the lands and into the most loyal residents of each to help them serve. Kings and Queens, Generals and Peacemakers were all granted powers from the lands they served, and the lands themselves had magical entities. Beautiful things, like waterfalls that healed and a pool that granted you a spirit animal; and wicked things, like ever burning trees that told the future for the price of blood. But the residents took advantage, fought wars for the sake of wars and threw magic around as if it did not come from somewhere, as if it were limitless.
It is not limitless.
Our home was being drained and the residents did not care. So the faeries took it all away. There was nothing left. The lands were gone and everyone awoke on a mountaintop, with their powers stripped, their homes destroyed, their crowns taken. Everyone started over. Slowly, new lands were returned to Beqanna, shaped and formed into new kingdoms without magic flowing freely through them. The residents were made to toil and work to regain their powers, to earn the right, to understand that there is a price for everything and that cost is high. To learn how to respect the land they called home.”
Aedan falls silent, leaving room to Pteron to add his own spin on the story or a new story entirely if he prefers. When they are done, the Princess is as good as her word and sends them on their way through a cave, tucked into a cliff around the back of the castle. Aedan is glad he did not try to run, for it was unlikely he’d have ever found this exit on his own and instead, one of the heads of the Princess’s dragon probably would have eaten him.
They travel in silence, mostly. Aedan finds it hard to break the oppressive quiet of the dark tunnel that leads them down, down, down. Always down, he thinks. Maybe he was still inside the Sphinx, traveling ever closer to it’s stomach and he just didn’t know. Maybe soon he’d wake to his mother’s gentle nose telling him not to sleep the day away (how silly, to tell a boy of the night not to waste the day, but she does anyway).
Neither of those things happen though, and instead there is a light in the distance. It grows closer as they walk, and that same mix of fear and excitement sends shockwaves skittering through Aedan. The walls around him are clear, almost see through, and the farther they go, the more he is able to see until it is clear they are underwater.
Underwater.
His heart might stop for a minute. They are underwater, in a tunnel made of clear rock and he finds himself stopping to look out. The sight is unbelievable, the colors of the ocean as vivid as the jungle had been, but where the jungle was green the ocean was blue. So blue. Vast and wonderful, little fish darting around the walls and looking his way. When a much larger fish comes, it’s mouth full of rows of sharp teeth, Aedan finds his feet and begins walking again. In his hesitation to watch the fish, he has lost Pteron and is once again on his own. Foolish. But then again, maybe this magical place would not have let them stay together anyway.
Eventually the tunnel leads up, and he drags his exhausted legs wearily. Adrenaline keeps him going, but if he ever makes it home he really may sleep for days. He finally surfaces above the ocean, the light bright and blinding for a moment. When he can see again, his eyes settle on golden spires glimmering in the sunlight. A city spreads out before him, and his eyes go wide. Aedan is about to rush into the city, careless of the danger that probably waits for him, too excited to explore, when an army blocks his path forward.
Aedan comes skittering to a halt. He takes a few steps back, studying the strange creatures that surround him. Their heads are that of deer - a creature he sees plenty in Beqanna. Their hind feet are that of a birds, and their tails are long feathers that he cannot place but assume must belong to some bird that he simply hasn’t seen before.
And then it comes to him. He knows this story. It’s not one mother tells often, but she has told it. The city beneath the ocean, once guarded by creatures called Peryton. The city is not beneath the ocean, but perhaps he’s gone back in time or perhaps in this alternate universe he finds himself in the city never sunk. Regardless, it’s the only idea he has and so he has to go with it.
One of the peryton stands a little apart, looking uncomfortable. Aedan watches him closely for a moment, eyes drifting to the ground around it until he notices something off. The shadow of this peryton is human. The rest though, the rest have shadows of themselves. A boy made of the night knows that shadows show the truth. The human shadow is a traveler, far from home and lost, in need of a kill to be restored to favor. There is only one that needs to kill. The rest may want to stop him, but perhaps they don’t need to kill him.
Are they keeping him here to help their friend get his kill? Could their friend be persuaded to let him go?
He moves toward the creature slowly, inching his way as harmlessly as he can toward the one peryton, eyeing those antlers and knowing they are death if he makes the wrong move. “I know how you feel,” he says softly, imploringly, toward the peryton. “I am far from home here, so I know what it’s like. I think maybe you are still you though, that to kill is to lose yourself entirely as they have.” He gestures to the shadows of the others, all fully peryton. Perhaps they have been restored to favor, but they are no longer the humans they once were. “There is so much good you could still do, and in the end, you can find your kill somewhere along the lines as you save someone, or many someones. A worthy kill.”
He pauses, hoping his plea doesn’t fall on deaf ears. “Please. I just want to go home.” It is all he can offer, his truth, as the shadow of this peryton offers a truth to Aedan as well. He will give back what he has taken, and hope that such a price is enough.
to be fearful of the night
aedan
Use of mild power playing is allowed; no injuries without permission
The dragon’s breath is hot, too hot, and then it is gone. For a moment, Pteron is too relieved at his continued existence to think, and then he finds himself standing besdie Aedan. The boy is unharmed, he thinks, but the dun stallion does not have time to look him over carefully. The princess is asking for a story, and while Pteron is still racking his brain for one, Aedan begins to tell one. He knows it by the first line; the Tale of the Reckoning always begins with a reminder of the cost of greed. The tale Aedan spins is the one Pteron knows – with perhaps a few changes, for oral tradition has a habit of taking on the preference of those who tell it, and Pteron’s family has always been given to flights of fancy – and the pegasus listens and nods.
“I will tell you another story,” Pteron tells the Princess, “The story of how the first horses of Beqanna gained the magic that was stripped of their descendants during the reckoning.”
“A day came when the fairies called for bravest hearts to fulfill a quest. Many answered, but it was a young stallion, full of strength and swift of foot, that was to succeed. His name was Lone Star, and he was faced with more dangers, more obstacles, than were in the whole of Beqanna. Monsters and shadows and darkness, and worst of all: humans.” He realizes, as he says this, that the Princess is just that: a human. Too thin, with only two legs and fragile little claws instead of hooves on her forelegs. Well, he supposes, having been trapped here, perhaps she already knows the habits of her kind.
“They were beating the most beautiful mare that Lone Star had ever seen. With little care for his own safety, he leapt to her aid, fighting off the humans and securing her freedom at great personal cost. Grateful for his aid, the beautiful mare Banat er Rih took him to her parents, and begged them for a suitable reward. Lone Star sked only for their daughter’s hand, but the great Mystics Ziyadah and Tabari granted him three other thing as well. Immortal life, so that he might love their daughter longer than a single lifetime, a horn so that he might defend her, and wings so that he might soar among the clouds. The two of them returned to Beqanna, becoming the first with magic in their blood to live in the Sunrise Lands.”
He finishes his tail, and the Princess is satisfied, for she leads them to a doorway. It will not lead back to the Mountain, Pteron knows, but there is no chance of escape. Not yet. Not in this world.
Aedan is soon lost in the darkness, and Pteron wishes him luck in a whisper that is swallowed by the blackness. Down, down, down he goes.
At first, he wonders if he is dreaming. The little blue glow has become a world above him, a world with a sound that he knows now as a whale call. He has been here before, he thinks, but this time there is no handsome amethyst-eyed stallion at his side, no chance that this might merely be an illusion. He ventures onward – upward – and the golden city at which he might have stared for hours is nothing compared to the army that swarms him.
Their rapid approach had made him defensive, and Pteron’s pale wings are unfurled before he can truly think about it. But while they do press ever closer, jostling each other, pushing, shoving, bumping – they never touch him. They are muttering words that he does not know, and none will meet his eye. None, that is, except for one some distance back. He is different from the others, clearly uncomfortable where they are eager.
Visually, he looks like the others, at least at first glance. But then Pteron looks back at those jostling around him, and then again at the one that stands alone. Had he not known a particular pair of siblings back in his own world, he might never have noticed the subtle difference. They are all antlered, but the creatures that surround him have smaller, more elegant tines. The one alone’s are larger, thicker, though the number of tines placed him roughly of median age in the group of creatures that surround him.
Pteron feels an immediate kinship, a bond with the only other male in sight.
His realization is useless though, and there is an increasing frenzy in the muttered words of the peryton female around him. They’ve not harmed him yet, and Pteron decides to take a chance. He leaps upward, and with one flap of his wings, crosses the space between himself and the other. As soon as he touches down, he feels an unexpected pain in his chest. Several pains, truly, and he twists his head to see that the other male has stabbed at him with those impressive antlers.
Pteron squeals and steps back, and finds that the muttering females have now formed a circle around the two of them, and their muttering has turned to cheers. The male Peryton charges forward again, and this time Pteron ducks away. The other comes close enough that Pteron can see the discomfort on his face had changed to determination, and Pteorn realizes – somewhat dimly and quite a bit delayed – that Pteron was the reason for his discomfort, that Pteron’s arrival had pulled away the attention of the females that must have been entirely focused on him before.
“I don’t - ” Pteron attempt to explain is cut off by another charge. The male shouts something in the same garbled language, and though Pteron shouts back his explanation: that he doesn’t want to fight, that he doesn’t even want to be here, nothing seems to be getting through. The pain of the first stabbing is beginning to fade, and knowing that he can’t possibly defeat an army – and also that he doesn’t want to suffer the consequences of winning, Pteron decides to take a quicker way out.
At the next charge, he doesn’t duck away. He takes the full brunt of the Peryton’s slashing antlers, even turns his head a little so he a few more tines make contact), and falls to the ground. There’s enough blood that his jugular might have been sliced (it’s only happened once before, and years ago, so he’s not entirely sure), and the female Perytons let out an enormous cheer before swarming the bloody-antlered male, who is smiling victoriously. Despite the hooves and claws of those that rush over him, Pteron does his best to remain still. Cheering and singing, the Peryton crowd moves toward the golden city, leaving their vanquished foe to bleed out on the ground.
Instead, Pteron bides his time until he is sure they are watching no longer, and disappears. It will take some time to recover from the trampling and the stabbing, but once he is healed, he means to find his way back home, no matter how long it takes. Perhaps they’ll think the tide swept him away, or some ocean creature came out of the depths to snack on his prone body. He doesn’t care what they think, as long as they don’t come looking for him.
Lala cannot tear her gaze from the dragon. She’d never encountered anything like it before. So she stood there - paralyzed - eyes wide with uncertain and maybe a little bit of fear. She backs up, unconsciously, a single step and when she does the girl catches movement out of the corner of her eye. It was the princess - waving her away from the dragon. Maybe she did need help after all. With a wary final glance at the dragon, the little pink girl quickly made her way over to where the princess beckoned.
Lala offered the princess - who was beautiful, just as mother said she’d be - a little smile and a dip of her head in greeting. The princess is kind and speaks softly. Her golden hair is woven into intricate plaits that make Lala wish her hair was long enough to style so gracefully. The golden haired princess explained that the dragon was her protector - keeping her safe within her castle home.
“I’m glad you have such a dedicated protector!” the little pink girl replied, honestly. ”Please tell him that I’m very sorry for running into him. I only wanted to help,” she added, somewhat sheepishly. She didn’t want to have hurt the creature, but doubted it even realized what had happened since it was all thick hide and tough scales.
She follows the princess without question before they come to a cave opening behind the castle. The way forward. Lala dips her head in a ramshackle bow. “Thank you for showing me the way!” the pink girl trills, wondering what awaits her next.
Beulah is somewhat surprised when the cave slopes downward. After only a few moments the light from the cave opening is fading away. Lala couldn’t help but wish the mysterious wispy lights would return. Instead, an eerie blue glow seems to illuminate the way forward. Lala skip-stumbles her way down - less than coordinated in the low light. But the light grows with each and every step she takes, speeding her along.
The cave is...strange. The walls begin to grow translucent until they become entirely transparent. The pink girl had never seen anything like it and the creatures that lived on the other side of the wall. All variety of sea creatures that she’d never even been able to imagine. Her steps slowed as she’d often stop to press her face against the clear walls - watching as various creatures flickered past looking like they were completely weightless as they spun through the water. Lala wasn't sure how far she’s walked before she realized that she was climbing upwards. Intrigued, her pace again picked up as she scrambled her way through the mysterious tunnel. The light continued to grow with every step forward until Lala stumbled out into the sunlight - dazed by the rush of bright light.
She blinked furiously as she tried to comprehend what it was that she was looking it.
A city beneath the sea. It was something out of a fairytale. Literally. She was pretty sure he mother had told her a story of such a place as a child. Mother often did this to get her to fall asleep - lulled by fantasy and softly glowing lights - it worked every time.
But that was not the only thing that drew her attention. A wave of green and fur and feathers and antlers that the girl cannot comprehend. A long line of creatures that she’d never in her life had seen before. Not anywhere outside her dreams, at least. She blinked at the creatures, trying to remember what her mother had called them - the strange flying stags of Atlantis.
Perytons. That was it. Perytons.
They were all taller than she was - stags with avian hindquarters and wings that could undoubtedly take them wherever they wished. Just the thought made the muscles in her chest and back twinge - still sore from her first foray into the skies. She stood paralyzed with wide eyes - trying to drink in every detail of these strange, storybook creatures. Because they were strange - otherworldly in appearance. And they made it very clear that she is not welcome here in this place. Involuntarily, Lala took a step backwards towards the tunnel. “H-hi everybody, I-I’m Lala,” she stammered, her baby blue gaze flickering between all the nearly identical faces.
That’s when she noticed that one didn’t belong. There was one who stood a small distance apart from the others - shoulders hunched and eyes downcast as if he were ashamed or hoping to remain unnoticed. His antlers seemed somewhat smaller - as if he was younger than the other strange guardians. He didn’t stand as tall like his brethren that seemed to create a physical barrier of flesh and bone and feathers. Curious, Lala followed his gaze, cocking her head as she tried to understand what she was seeing.
His shadow was...different. It didn’t match his body. If anything, it looked to be the same general shape as the princess she’d just left behind. A man. Pieces of her mother’s stories flickered through her mind. The shadow was important - she knew that much. But why. Lala gnawed on her bottom lip as she tried to remember and silently cursed herself for always falling asleep before hearing the whole story. In the end, she decided to take a leap of faith - to trust her mother, her gut, and to trust this stranger of a creature she’d only ever seen in her dreams.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Lala said, quietly, as she edged her way towards the one who was different “And I don’t think you want to hurt me…” she added, unsure of herself but hopeful she had judged the creature correctly and remembered the true meaning of the shadow. That unlike the other guardians - this creature hadn’t yet taken a life.
“I don’t belong here...and I’m not sure that you do either.” she said, honestly, ”I can show you the way out, if you’d like…” The pink girl offers, gesturing towards the tunnel she’d just emerged from with a small, pink wing. Beulah wasn’t sure if this was perhaps the most foolish thing she’d ever done, but she wasn’t going to just leave him there if she knew the way out. She wasn’t sure if the others would even allow him to leave. But she couldn’t just...not offer. That just seemed mean and, well, wrong.
Lala’s gaze flickered to the other perytons. She wasn’t sure if they would even allow her to leave - especially with one of their brethren in tow. But maybe they, too, knew he was different - knew he didn’t belong here.
So Lala turned back towards the tunnel and began walking back the way she came. She looked back over her shoulder gesturing to the winged stag, "It’s this way,” she said simply, in invitation, before turning back towards the tunnel. She couldn’t force him to come, of course, but couldn’t help but think it’d be nice to have some company as she tried to find her way back.
Another thought struck her, too. Maybe if she freed him from this city - Atlantis, if her mother’s story had been correct - maybe he’d be able to help her get home. Because as much as she didn’t want to admit it, the little pink girl was homesick. She missed home and everyone in it, and the idea that she may be trapped down here weighed heavily upon her little pink shoulders.
But she didn’t want to let her insecurity show, so she held he head high and strode confidently for the base of the tunnel - holding on to the hope that everything would be okay in the end.
there's nothing you can do that can't be done,
nothing you can sing that can't be sung.
When the princess's voice rang across the yard, Poppy froze. What she thought was the golden flame of the dragon roaring to life is nothing more than the warm interior light of the castle spilling from the open doors like honey, like sap, and she is mosquito, frozen in time. Her mouth is sore from the sharp-edged holly leaves, as she sees they are now, her tongue cut and lips reddened with blood and toxic red berries. She lets them fall from her mouth, landing wet among the scattered leaves around her. The bitterness lingers and makes her drool, thin tendrils of saliva threading from loose lips.
A hand touches her shoulder, deft and cool, and Popinjay startles awake. House-slippers on the short-cut, damp, grass of the lawn move silently, the princess is like a ghost. The touch awakens something inside Popinjay, a feral fear, and her eyes roll, ears pinning back, but the voice freezes her again.
"Excuse me? Can you hear me? Are you okay?" She expects an answer. Not simply because she is a princess, but because she believes Popinjay capable of supplying one. It is not a hypothetical question given to the air, as one might say to a pet, to an animal incapable of responding in kind, or on any sort of equal ground, but as she might address another human, or, perhaps, as she might address a dragon, or a sphinx. Tension falls away from the yearling's muscles and she turns to meet the brown eyes that search her own. The face is stern, displeasure lurking in the firm line of her lips, but concern crinkles the corner of those eyes. This is a look that Popinjay knows, a look that she has been seeing her entire life, and as she has always done, she flashes a grin - as much a grin as a horse can flash - small ears forward and eyes brimming with mischief poorly shaded by the innocence she pretends.
"I'm fine, but you should see the other guy," she turns to study the torn dragon topiary as the princess's frown deepens, "Oh, well, I guess you can."
The yard is quiet for a moment, except for the sound of whirring insects in the foliage. A yawn racks her whole body, but while the human's concern for her condition remains, so, too, does the silent demand for an explanation for the wanton destruction.
"I thought your dragon was real and I'm so tired. There was a light and a door, and then a great big statue that gave me a riddle, and it swallowed me even though I definitely answered it right, and then I ended up here, but I don't know where here is, only I didn't like the path so I had to cross the lava all the way down there," she points to where she crossed with her nose,"and when I got up here I was so tired and I didn't want to be friends with your dragon - I didn't know it was your dragon - but he wouldn't go away, and I guess he couldn't, but how was I supposed to know that?"
Words fall from her lips in a jumble, and when they finally dry up, silence stretches across the yard once again. It feels like forever to the exhausted yearling and she begins to think that perhaps she will just go to sleep here beneath the boughs of the broken tree. Her eyes flutter shut, but open suddenly when laughter bursts out across the night-soaked courtyard.
"You attacked what you thought was a dragon because you didn't want to be friends with it?" The princess's voice if high and incredulous, "That is literally the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" She seems to pause to think for a moment, and then smiles, her face more gentle than before.
"Alright, Little Horse. You can sleep here for the night, I will show you the way off this mountain in the morning."
She turns to walk back to the castle. Popinjay is asleep before the doors are shut and the golden light has faded away. Her sleep is dreamless and the princess, true to her word, shows her the way off of the mountain the following morning. They part with no more than a wave and a nod, and the yearling soon loses sight of the princess standing at the mouth of the cave. Her path descends into an inky darkness but caves hold no fear for Poppy, no matter how dark or how long. The sound of water dripping echoes from the depths, and high above, the tiny, just-barely audible chirps of bats roosting for the day. In places, the ceiling must be much lower, because glow-worms dangle above her head, forcing her to carry it low, lest they tangle in her mane. They offer no useful light.
For a long time, the bay walks, seeing nothing, but slowly the cave lightens. The walls become smoother, in fact, they become clearer and the black turns to a deep, midnight blue. A sound she does not recognize whines through the tunnel and huge shadows pass overhead. She keeps walking - there is nothing else to do. There is no way to get off the path this time. The darkness continues to lessen until actual light seems to ripple against the floor. It is clear as crystal. Fish swim by, silvery and scaled, schooling like blackbirds over a field. She stops, stunned, and touches the cave wall with her nose, pressing dark lips against the clear-quartz sides. A curious creature swims up from the depths and meets her, pressing its own long nose to the same place as hers before emitting a series of clicks and squeals, and swimming a spiral around the cave.
Popinjay squeals, delighted, and kicks up her heels, charging forward without concern for whether the crystal cave is hardy enough to withstand the pounding of her hooves. The smiling grey creature is joined by more, all with smooth, scarred grey skin, all clicking and whining and circling the tunnel as she races them to the surface. She bursts out of the tunnel as a pod of dolphins breach the surface of the ocean behind her, barrel rolling and crashing down again below the waves. The filly dances at the mouth of the crystal cave as the dolphins disappear, excited to turn and run. She finds herself surrounded, instead.
What are the chances these are just more bushes?
They are green, like the holly dragon back at the castle, but decorated with feathers rather than foliage. They bristle, like holly, their eyes red as the bright berries, teeth sharp as the points of the leaves. They carry no weapons, because why would they, the talons of their hind legs dig at the warm soil and the tines of their antlers gleam dully, like black metal. They are quiet for a moment, and then a great, squalling cry is raised, roaring in her ears and setting her heart to racing. What is that supposed to mean? The cave beckons, she could turn and run, they are so bulky and strange that they could never move as swiftly as she through the dark cavern, but that would take them back to the castle, and then?
She could attack, and she wonders if that would be wise, for the creatures are clearly designed for fighting, their bodies muscular, taloned and antlered and sharp-toothed. But, she thinks, they should have attacked already. Why do they wait? There is something she is missing. She cocks her head to one side, curious, pinned ears turning forward again. Only one pays special attention to her, uncomfortable and hungry. Strangely, it's shadow is that of a human, human like their smell, like the princess. The others have shadows that reflect their shapes and when she looks at them again, there is dirt on their lips. Have they been eating dirt? Only the one with the shadow of a man watches her like a predator, but it is not the look of one who is actively hunting. She knows that look, it is the look of Turul watching something too large to hunt, or when a rabbit lopes by and he has already eaten.
She's the wrong kind of prey.
She does not feel disgust that they would eat a human, surely, there must be things that do, as horses eat grass and wolves eat horses. Her gaze meets that of the Odd One
"Nobody else is comin' out of this tunnel, so if you're looking for a human, maybe you ought to look there.
And as she gestures to the city, the smell of smoke becomes apparent. Behind them, the shining city isn't golden, it's burning. A strange music plays in the midst of the flames, an uneasy fiddle scrawling a crazy tune.
"D'you hear that music too? What kind of weirdo play music when the city's burning around him?"
