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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "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


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    The Cure - Round 1
    #5
    <link href='https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Calligraffitti|Architects Daughter|Bellefair' rel='stylesheet'><style> .Wennycontain {position:relative;width:450px;background-color:#E6E5E9;border-radius:30px 30px 5px 5px;box-shadow:0px 0px 3px white;} .Wennyimg {position:relative;width:450px;border-radius:30px 30px 0px 0px;} .Wennygrad {position:relative;z-index:2;width:450px;height:50px;top:-169px;background: -moz-linear-gradient(top, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%, rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%);background: -ms-linear-gradient(top, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%, rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%); background: -webkit-linear-gradient(top, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%,rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to bottom, rgba(230,229,233,0) 0%,rgba(230,229,233,1) 100%);} .Wennyname {position:relative;z-index:3;top:-150px;left:100px;font-family:Calligraffitti;font-size:34pt;color:#f6d9d5;text-shadow:2px 1px 1px #f7d0cb;} .Wennyquote {position:relative;z-index:3;top:-110px;font-family:'Architects Daughter';font-size:13pt;color:#c8a490;text-shadow:1px 1px 1px #e1c3c7;text-align:center;} .Wennytext {position:relative;margin-top:-140px;padding-bottom:15px;width:410px;font-family:Bellefair;font-size:10.5pt;letter-spacing:0.7pt;color:#8a444e;}
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    <center><div class="Wennycontain"><img class="Wennyimg" src="https://i.pinimg.com/564x/ea/37/69/ea3769a9996075ca9173f6b7facc065a.jpg"><div class="Wennyname">Eurwen</div>
    <div class="Wennyquote">the secret of walking on water<br>is knowing where the rocks lie</div><div class="Wennygrad"></div><div class="Wennytext">
    They had actually fought about it…

    Looking at the Mountain now, she knows how ridiculous it was. Or maybe her father had been right all along... no - she stood with her decision, which was the she was most suited to go.

    She remembers their calling so clearly. Almost weakly so, a message had been imprinted on them, echoing in their dreams as if the fairies were dying from it, weakened too by a god-created illness. All three of them had gone to the Mountain once before, had challenged the elements and monsters to help find this cure. One ingredient each, and this would probably be just as dangerous.

    Her father had been so angry with the siblings saying that they wanted to go - and she in return had defied both of them, because Aodhán was far too young to risk his life, he’d barely lived yet and she’d told him he would probably be needed in the future. So far, she had been able to hide her massive migraine-like headaches from her little brother, and her final argument had been that he was too ill (after all he had that suspicious cough) and his fire-like trait would not help him climb the mountain, whereas her fae-given rock trait just might. In the end, facing the two elder horses, he’d backed down (or perhaps the idea of falling off the Mountain was more than he wanted to try and handle). Just to make sure though, she’d told several others in Nerine that he was not to leave until later that afternoon.

    Their father had gone on and on about wanting to keep them safe, that he was fitter than them and would not be buffeted by the Mountain’s cold. Eurwen had repeatedly pointed out that he was the leader of the Isle now, saying he needed to be there, upon which he had retorted with her duties as heiress.
    In the end, she had been angry enough to trap him between large rock pillars, and though she that knew he would get out eventually, she would be gone by then.

    Shaking her head, the spotted young mare returns to the present, and focuses on the challenge before her. Climb the Mountain. Yet, it seems so ominous looming above her… then again she had come here on her own for this very reason, hadn’t she?

    At least her surroundings match her element, she notices - the Mountain is made mostly out of rock and stone. And that is kind of reassuring. Perhaps she’s been given this element for this single purpose. Yes. Impenetrable as a rock, for sure.

    Right, then. Looking around, she finds the icicles that her father talked about, the shells that aren’t unlike the markings on her little brother, the pebbles that she and her cousins brought, and flowers - no doubt originating from the Pampas. She takes some of each, and bundles her package into a hollow, rock-made, cube-like thing. This box is something that will protect the cure ingredients, she thinks, as well as makes it easier to carry - though she had planned to use her elemental manipulation trait to move the box, she then notices that she doesn’t have to, and prays a silent thank-you to whoever is listening.

    The Mountain is dark, but the first part of her trip is relatively easy. Looks aren’t everything, she supposes. But then she is hit with the first wave of pure Plague-ness as an ominous cloud, and her headache has not only instantly returned, but now she also feels nauseous and outs her first, deep, bad cough, which hurts her chest even a few breaths after. Oops. That’s probably not the worst of it, she thinks, and she dizzily looks up to estimate how far she still must go. Only a third… it’s not looking good.

    But when was anything Plague-related ever a good thing? She’ll just have to pull through like she always has, that is the purpose of this whole thing… she hopes…
    Suppressing the next cough, hardly noticing her loss of mane and fur, she leaves a pink and white trail on the path she takes. Where’s she going? Up. There's nothing else she can tell you at this point.

    It doesn’t take too long for her to encounter her next obstacle, this one much more physical. A chasm, the gap deeper than she ever imagined. She can see the other side, maybe she might jump it, or is it really further away? Not taking any chances today, she floats her stone box to the other side, then starts building a small bridge. Her body is protesting from fatigue, and she leans against the Mountain’s slope to steady herself while she works. But there is no other way that she knows to get her to the other side, except going down and back up another path and she’s not so sure if she can do that. Feverishly, she manipulates the stone to create a small ledge which she then hesitantly crosses.

    Upon looking back, she finds that there wasn’t a gap at all. Frowning, she decides not to think about it, and continues with her box of ingredients.

    Up and up, round and round, the path is rocky and chilly, but she’s glowing with feverish heat and actually - well actually, the cold is quite welcome. Perhaps she shouldn’t be happy with the cold, but here she is, secretly enjoying it anyway and it doesn’t matter any more to her as long as she can move on. She can feel which rocks are loose, preventing herself from falling; it is only because of this that she avoids being swept away by a sudden large wave of water, having felt the ground tremble just in time, even if she's nearly swept away by the watery avalanche; hiding against the Mountainside once more, she awaits the water passing by, but cannot avoid getting drenched by the spray.

    Chilled to the bone, she hides with the safety the rock offers. Staring at the water, she lets all of it pass without a thought.

    She blinks and darkness takes her, she is floating. One moment she had been staring at water, grounded by the rocks, and here she was... just... floating. Whatever mind trick it is, she cannot care any longer - after all she is a beautiful young girl looking like and old hag already, so what would she care if she drowns now? It’s so easy to let go. It would be… so easy... to go.

    And then she falls to the ground and wakes, her passing out her wake-up call.

    How long has she been out? She’s cold to the bone, and staring at… ice. A glacier maybe? Was it ever water that she’s seen or is she still hallucinating, like with the cliff-side that had not been? Fevers… she’s never had any before, in her life. The migraines seem not too much trouble in hindsight. Now, she shows all the symptoms of the Plague at once, and she can’t do anything else but move, go up, climb this huge rock of a mountain.

    She must be nearly there. She must be. But her dull eyes can’t see much beyond just another slope and the newfound wall of ice. It shows her a mirror image, suddenly she sees. It's quite clear in fact. This Plague had caught up with her finally. It’s going to get her, it’s going to take her down, it’s going to prevent her from healing anybody else, she's not strong enough to help a fairy… and her reflection, the image of the Plague, stares at her with a menacing grin.

    It moves.

    All of a sudden, nothing else matters in the world. Here she is, at the end of her life, staring at her moving Plague reflection. It is all that is evil about her - here she will be stopped. All her past fears are present in her mind at once, all the nasty bits and pieces of her insecurities shown to her in an ice-cold mirror. As if her whole life flashes past like it might at one’s life ending, but only the bad parts, she relives how she’s never good or bold enough to live up to her sisters’ standards, never big or strong enough to follow them on their adventures. She watches as she never shows any ability at all to her parents and family who have such things indeed, how she is useless and cannot help or heal anyone, nearly drowns in the canal because she is not strong enough to swim. She never greets anyone first at the border of Nerine, she did not succeed in recruiting anyone from the Field, in fact, when a new recruit showed himself in Nerine he almost up and left again because she could not handle the situation. She failed her mother in running away to help the fairies, she failed herself in not returning quickly enough. In fact, she caught the Plague in the meantime. How sad is this little life of hers? How worthless is she? What could she possibly be worth, if all she does is wrong. Wrong. Not even her rock ability has proved useful for the kingdom.

    And in her deepest, darkest, self-loathing fear, she turns around to leave. But right there on the path behind her, a small stone box is waiting for her, bringing her a single moment of clarity between Plague-ridden thoughts. No. She may be worth nothing to the world or to herself or even to others, but she will at least finish this one task. One task is all she needs to complete. Up the Mountain. Bring the ingredients.

    The girl’s confidence is everything but rock-solid, but she’s hard enough on herself to not give in now.

    With a heavy heart and an absent mind, she walks the rest of the way, plague-ridden but somehow steady. After conquering rocks, dreams, water and ice on her way, she has nothing else left but to hold on to this one thought.

    Collect the items, climb the mountain.</div></div></center>
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    Messages In This Thread
    The Cure - Round 1 - by Beqanna Fairy - 04-05-2019, 12:56 PM
    RE: The Cure - Round 1 - by litotes - 04-06-2019, 10:47 PM
    RE: The Cure - Round 1 - by Kagerus - 04-09-2019, 01:49 AM
    RE: The Cure - Round 1 - by Nocturne - 04-09-2019, 01:25 PM
    RE: The Cure - Round 1 - by Eurwen - 04-09-2019, 02:13 PM
    RE: The Cure - Round 1 - by Ten - 04-09-2019, 04:07 PM
    RE: The Cure - Round 1 - by sochi - 04-10-2019, 12:39 AM
    RE: The Cure - Round 1 - by wonder - 04-10-2019, 01:08 AM



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