"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
For a half-dozen centuries zer children have bickered back and forth, and ze has finally had enough.
Beqanna gathers them to zerself one midwinter day.
They assemble in a semi-circle around their MotherFather, each looking subdued and rather shy. None of them look apologetic despite their crimes, and so Beqanna takes it upon zerself to punish them, to ensure that they know of their crimes.
“I have allowed you governance of your own worlds, but you have disappointed me. What right do you have to discriminate?” Here ze looks to Desert, Valley, and Dale. “And you three – why do you think yourselves responsible for draining my magic from those who seek your shelter?” Beqanna’s flinty gaze settles on Falls, Gates, and Chamber. “And all of you –dividing yourselves? What are light and dark but two halves of a whole? I am ashamed”
“I take back the magics I have given you. I take them all back.” Ze does so, pulling back the magic into the earth. Each of zer children will feel it, god and equine alike. They will feel a ripple in their spirits, an intangible something pulled out of them in all directions at once. They will not feel its absence because it has only relocated, drawn back into Beqanna’s heart.
“You may have them back in time, but this time the division of power will be fair. You are siblings, and it is time that you act like it.”
With one cool breath, ze strips Amazon of her tattoos. “Your followers make an oath, but they do not swear to the right gods. Take this, and raise him. His growth will reflect my pleasure with you.” A cub appears at the feet of Amazon, a jaguar that winds itself between her legs. Tundra is next, and his scars grow less distinct as Beqanna tells him: “Do not forget your origins. I will bring your ruins to light that your people might remember the past. They are but stones for now – they will change if you improve.
Beqanna turns to the rest of them, and with a deep inhalation strips them of their power. “You have forgotten me. I will change the lives of your people to ensure that you do not forget again.” Beqanna is the earth and the sky and the water, and one by one ze alters the kingdoms. Some remain the same, others shift minutely. To Chamber and Valley ze gives a single seed, telling them to “plant it, and ensure that it grows strong.” To Gates, Falls, Desert, Dale she gifts zer waters. “Place these where you will, and protect them. Do not allow them to become dry, or suffer my displeasure.”
And then, in a swirl of stars, Beqanna is gone and zer children return to the worlds they occupy, each to speak in dreams with the leader of their followers. They appear as the most awe-inspiring dream, each as individual as the horse they appear to.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Amazon appears to Scorch: “When you wake, your tattoos will be gone. You and your sisters will see my spirit roaming the Jungle, most often in the form of a jaguar. Speak to it if you wish, but protect it at all costs. In time, it will visit you and return your tattoos. I take back all of my other magics in their entirety, save those that I think most useful. You, and Khaleesis to come, will be immortal for as long as you sit the throne. You may give wings to two horses to create an airforce, and a horn to the leader of your army. Your peace leader may receive empathy, and their second-in command invisibility. Petition me, and I might grant something more.” And then they are gone.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
In summary -
ROYALTY:
-King/Queen allowed immortality as long as they rule - non-genetic
-King/Queen allowed one trait that is in line with the kingdom (ie Tundra ice manipulation, Desert's sand shifting, etc)
ARMY:
-Wings to maximum 2 horses to have "airforce" - non-genetic (allow license to make wings cooler, like butterfly wings, etc)
-Horns to leader of the army - non-genetic (any horn is acceptable)
DIPLOMATS:
-Empathy to leader of the peace caste - non-genetic
-Invisibility to second highest member of the peace caste - non-genetic
All of these traits can be given without approval, except for the one king/queen trait that is not immortality. This trait must be approved by administration, and is contingent upon ruling. Kingdom granted traits will not be marked in the database, to show they are both non-genetic and disappear once that horse has ceased to serve in that kingdom. You may add them to your profile with the caveat that they're kingdom granted. Traits are granted by the magical entity's alliance with the king/queen, who has sworn to protect the magical entity while it's in its fledgling state. Because your kingdom's magical entity is still an infant it will take 6 months (2 RL years) for the trait to come to full fruition. If your queen/king possesses magic they may grant the trait themselves. All other kingdom granted traits are now completely gone (see directly below).
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Beqanna will be roaming the Meadow for several weeks. If zer grandchildren feel too defenseless without the magics that zer children have now taken from them, perhaps they might seek zer out. Be warned, Beqanna is benevolent but not overly generous.
this will never end, ‘cause i want more, more, give me more
Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. Or so Lagertha thinks, as she has awoken without her tattoos. She cannot see the silvery lines that laced up and down her long face and around her ears, but her breast and leg are distressingly bare.
What the actual fuck?
Snorting and clearly agitated, Lagertha makes her way to the center of the kingdom, to the clearing where all the large meetings are held. There is no slash across her chest (or would that have disappeared too?) so she knows (thinks she knows) it is not for certain fairly recent activities. Perhaps her sisters would have answers… surely one of them knew something? And if not them, then perhaps Scorch? She hates going to the fire-woman for answers, but a leader is supposed to know certain things, or at least pretend to. Her tail flicks disconcertedly against her hocks, and she cannot seem to stay still when she arrives at the open space.
And then - oh god, it feels as if the top of her head is going to split open and her ears fall off. She can feel the hot trickle of blood down the side of her face as skin splits open and two sharp little nubbins poke through. For a moment, Lagertha sees stars, but as she shakes her head and blinks a couple of times, the pain begins to lessen to a dull pulse and she finally exhales. Jesus Christ. What did she do to deserve that? And what the fuck is going on? She searches the rest of the area for her sisters, wondering just what they were experiencing, if anything at all.
Not to mention the fact that she feels... older, somehow. More tired.
The summons comes, but she’s not sure if it’s a dream or real life. She doesn’t go anywhere, but perhaps the magic just pulled her in, consumed them all. Ze seems to be addressing all of Beqanna at once, anger spewing from the entity that has given them all home. Much of it is address toward the Amazons, it seems, and Rhy nearly cringes in response to the message.
But still, there’s something interesting going on as well. The Chamber and the Falls and the Gates have magic restored to them. Everyone else has their magic pulled back, as if it’s a child all over again. They are all equal. For the first time in how many lifetimes? She’s heard stories of the Falls from Riagan when mythicals still lived there. She’s descended from a mythical queen, so she knows that once Beqanna was like this. But then it wasn’t, and she doesn’t know why. But apparently Beqanna is not happy.
And now they are all equal.
She feels the loss of the tattoo almost as clearly as she had felt the loss of her electric in the realm of the dead. Like part of her has been ripped away. There’s no vine wrapped around her leg, no flower on her chest, and when she turns her head, there’s no electric storm on her shoulder. None of her other traits are gone though, but then again, the Jungle had never given her anything but the tattoo. Rhy had never really needed anything.
Instead though, she has a strange sense of everyone around her. Nothing strong, but just a trickle of emotions that are not all her own. Some confusion, some interest, some fear. Maybe the fear is hers. Not that the Amazons have much to fear, but clearly, the power balance will shift. She wonders where they will stand after this, wonders how drastically Beqanna will change. The Chamber, with powers again. Even the Gates, who perhaps will no longer lie dormant.
She makes her way to the clearing, figuring others will come here. Lagertha is already here, and Rhy finds that her feeling of confusion is heightening some. But Rhy isn’t confused, not really. More curious, a bit uncertain. Is the confusion Lagertha’s? She thinks perhaps, but the feeling is so slight she really can’t be sure. “Everything is going to change, isn’t it?” It’s a rhetorical question though. Of course it is.
Often, Scorch dreams vividly. Of dragons, of shadow-monsters, of tricksters, of bloody wars, and of death. Of Kagerou, and Echion, and Rain too. The nights are as cacophonous as the days, though Scorch has learned to sleep through the night terrors. On some occasions, when her breath is heavy, her skin is damp with sweat, and her eyelids flicker madly, she thrashes until she wakes. Muffled, semi-conscious screams accompany her madness. On nights like those, Scorch walks the Jungle paths until day comes. For when you relive the worst imaginable parts of your life every night, over and over, sleep becomes far less useful.
Tonight offers a new nightmare.
Amazon appears to Scorch in a dream, and Scorch does not interrupt. The Goddess’s speech is harmonic, as though each Sister through the course of history has added to Her voice. Scorch stares in utter fascination, though to describe the deity would be impossible, for when she wakes, she remembers only the words spoken, and the incredible sense of awe, wonder, and horror which still cling to her.
She gasps into awareness, joints locked, eyes shifting colour madly. Nothing around her has changed, though she throws her head in every direction just to be sure. No blizzard. No war. No death. The Khaleesi swallows. It could have been worse.
With trembling legs, Scorch begins the trek to the meeting grounds. I will not look at myself. Despite her wonder and shock, her resolve is stone. Her tattoos are gone, and she knows what this means, she remembers exactly how she looked before she swore herself into the Jungle’s service. She remembers how her skin bunches in angry red patches, or how certain places which should stretch, don’t. Instead, they bleed. She remembers how disfigured she truly is, the way her nose was flattened, her ankles mutilated, her legs scarred beyond belief, and her ears more nubs than ears. She remembers how plastic she feels, how closing her lips and even blinking is a challenge. She remembers being ugly, and constantly in pain. And… Pink.
Of course, immortality has slowly helped regenerate some aspects of her physique. The bleeding has stopped, and her face is only scarred, not mutilated. Her ankles move flexibly, and she blinks easily. Her ears have regrown to their large, ugly selves. But she is still hideous. And pink.
The naked rat returns.
Rhy and Lagertha are in the clearing when she arrives on sturdier legs. Largely, Scorch is nigh on unrecognizable. Neither of her caste leaders have seen Scorch pre-tattoos, or without bladed hooves and teeth. The baldness and the dragon-eyes are easy give aways however; with these eyes – still multicoloured – she looks between the two. Silence consumes the trio for minutes; this isn’t exactly the easiest topic to broach.
“Yes,” She breathes hoarsely. She does not allow her head to drop in defeat, though she feels conquered; naked. Vulnerable. “The kingdom… Amazon... Appeared to me.” All too suddenly, she realizes how hard this will be to explain. “Something changed. The balance of power is shifting. She – Amazon – took away our traits. Our tattoos.” She swallows, but begins speaking more confidently.. “Her spirit roams the Jungle now. A Jaguar. We must protect it, and we may speak to it too.” Glancing towards the shadows, Scorch wonders if the flicker of sinewy silver is a figment of her imagination. “But Amazon also grants traits. Lagertha, you may have a horn or horns of your choice. Two horses in the army may also receive wings.” She looks to Rhy. “And to you, Amazon gives empathy. To your second in command, invisilbilty. I’ll allow the both of you to decide which horses receive these gifts.”
Silence falls then, for Scorch has spoken far too long. Her body aches for lack of her tattoos. Closing her eyes, she leans towards Lagertha and presses the flat of her head into the General’s neck. Two dozen seconds pass, and Scorch swings her head to repeat the gesture upon Rhy’s golden skin. She lifts her head with the words:
“Her spirit will return our tattoos. I do not know when, but She will. Take solace in that.”
07-10-2015, 08:37 AM (This post was last modified: 07-13-2015, 04:08 PM by Kyra.)
Faith is the bird that feels the light
when the dawn is still dark.
She is asleep, but she feels the unrest like the others. Her tail flicks across her legs and as she wakes and stands suddenly, she can already feel something is off. Her ears flicker and she doesn't hear anything odd, but she looks around she sees out of the corner of her eye that her tattoo is gone. She stretches her right leg out before her to examine it more closely and then turns her head to see if her flock of quetzal still flew down her right side. They too were gone. Curious, Malka quickly shifts into her bird form and is comforted by the fact that at least she still had that.
She knows, like the others that they will find each other in the clearing and so, it is there that she flies arriving shortly after Scorch does. Her other sisters have also lost their tattoos and Scorch's appearance nearly takes Malka by surprise. She was one of few who was still around from before Scorch was tattooed and she lands quietly next to her friend, letting her body shift back to it's equine form just as Scorch begins to speak.
It made a little more sense now as Scorch speaks of her encounter with the Amazons and Malka's ears are pricked attentively towards the now truly hairless friend. Even now as Malka thinks about it, she wonders what the change could've meant for her if only it had happened some twenty plus years ago. The same magic that had prevented her father from holding the throne after his quest was now gone. It would mean much change in the monarchy - deserving horses, no matter their differing attributes could now rule any place they wanted. Malka, for one, was excited for what this meant for the kingdoms.
Like Rhy, besides the loss of her tattoos, the painted mare had not changed much. Her shifting had been the generosity of quest of knowledge and her other traits had been given to her by her father as Rodrik stamped the life out of him. She had earned them and no one could take those from her.
"It should have a name," she randomly says aloud, not yet realizing that she had spoken. When she does finally notice she'd spoken out instead of keeping the thoughts to herself she expands on the small thought. "The cub, we should name it," she corrects, hoping her sisters think the same as she. It seemed odd to just call it "the cub" and not give it a more formal name, one worthy of it's position and honor.
As Scorch continues to speak of ranks and new traits Malka shakes her head. She knows that as far as the ranks currently stood, she was the 2nd highest ranking member in each caste. "Please bestow such trust upon sisters more deserving and needing of them," she said. She could shift into a bird which, in a sense was similar to having wings and invisibility. She had often sat unnoticed high up in trees as those below her chatted confidently. With the exception of her sisterhood, many would not recognize Malka unless they knew to look for her. Camouflage was much more convenient than invisibility. She also knew that she was not active enough to deserve either gift, whether her caste leaders wanted to give them to her or not.
She falls quiet then, waiting to see the further responses from her sisters and to see if others would join them as well. Malka knew that there were more than just the four mares living among the Jungle and all of them must be curious to the change that was happening. Scorch steps forward and gentle touches both Lagertha and Rhy and the quetzal mare waits until her friend steps back by her side before dropping her head gently over the Khaleesi's neck in a comforting hug.
"Everything will be alright," she says in an almost whisper. They had one another for support and their kingdom was still whole - a promising start to their new lives.
Malka
immortal, quetzal-shifting Lekh, Kosi & Erinak of the 'Zons
Nayl rests only a few short miles away from where Lagertha stirs and groans. The girl's head lifts from the ground, her legs tucked underneath her. Everything seems to grumble into life, but it isn't the joyous power that she usually senses throughout the kingdom. A different essence blleds into the air around them. Concern immediately sprouts deep in Nayl's chest but she hesitates before rising to her feet. Nearly grown, the Amazon child truly embodies the Jungle around her. Pieces of vine and flowers are woven into her mane and tail; it adds a sweetness to her appearance until she shakes it all away.
The daughter of Covet isn't exactly trying to be dainty, after all.
The death of her father weighs heavily on Nayl's shoulders as she moves to join her sisters. In mid-step, however, she happens to glance down and see the remnants of her tattoos flickering away. "Why..." the word falls on deaf ears as a frown creases her mouth and furrows her brow. "The Jungle," her whisper isn't directed to anyone else; she is alone. Everything seems to churn uncomfortably around her. The uncertainty is a knife burying itself in her heart and is the speed in which she uses to, now, quickly navigate through her home.
As Scorch begins to speak, Nayl arrives. Her autumn eyes glance to Lagertha and her horns, then Rhy, then Malka, then finally her aunt. "Is anything else changing?" As much as Nayl adored her tattoos, she can at least survive without them. It will be a minor adjustment, but at least it wasn't anything as critical as a limb or a trait she had learned to adore. Glancing to the others, she briefly wonders how the cleansing has affected them before adding as a side note to Scorch: "I want to be in the army and peace."
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