 Father was darkness. Not the kind that greeted you on the other side of a nightmare, full of misery and fear, breeding doubt from the monsters you were certain lurked just out of sight. He was like night. He was the promise of sameness, of routine, but married with the doubt and uncertainty that had a habit of creeping in with the evening shadows. He was something you looked forward to seeing, something you grew to expect. Until he wasn’t anymore. Mother was wild. She loved father too much, or maybe it was the right amount, but her love seemed unstable, destructive. It was the only way Oksana knew how to love- with everything and all of herself, so fiercely, with no regard to the way that love seemed to pull her apart molecule by molecule.
Malis, the eldest child, was all dark and all wild. An imperfect combination. She felt everything, every happiness and every sadness, every awful wild thought, and Ilka had noticed despite the way her sister tried so hard to hide it. It was even worse lately, worse since Malis had disappeared and returned colored as brightly as a butterfly, full of silence and secrets as heavy as stones. Pyxis and Striar fell somewhere in between, or at least she guessed they did. Striar was still just a baby, her baby brother, still young and innocent and hard to place. Pyxis could’ve been her twin, though she was actually a year younger. They had always been together, inseparable, same and yet entirely different. Maybe that was what made it so hard for Ilka to understand what was in her sister’s heart.
But there was something in each of them that kept them tied in some way to the Chamber.
In each except one.
Except Ilka.
Home had never been the place in the pines, where a heart beat like a steady drum from someplace beneath the roots. She heard it like an urge, an echo. Go, go, go, go, go. When she had asked Malis about it, her brow furrowed and her mouth creased, Malis had offered her only the thin ghost of a smile. “Mine, mine, mine. It told Malis, purred in her ears, wrapped clenched skeletal fingers around her heart. But Ilka had stayed for a while, nearly a year, falling in love with the smoke scent that still clung to some of the trees and hollowed out logs, loving the fog when it rolled in cool and crisp and held her in its translucent cocoon. But even as she loved, fiercely but not so wildly as her mother, that restlessness grew.
Wanderlust claimed her.
Selfishy, greedily, it took her.
And she went willingly.
It was with a heaviness in her chest that she left that day, walking shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip with Malis as far as the meadow. But Malis, full of her wild secrets, would go no further. Ilka pushed her nose against her sisters warm, muscular neck, willing away the loneliness that was already threatening to choke her. Malis, true to herself, remained as stoic as ever, but Ilka thought she could see some cracks in the passivity she wore like armor. When they parted, Ilka refused to look back. She knew if she did that she would never be able to leave. But she also couldn’t stay. She let her feet carry her forward, counting the soft thumps of her stride to leave no room for thoughts of indecision and uncertainty to climb in.
When the kingdom limits finally came into view, night had fallen and the sun had sunken beneath the tops of the faraway trees. There was a clear path worn through the grass and underbrush, and she followed it without hesitation. Fireflies flashed in clusters as she passed, startled by an unexpected visitor at such a late hour. They reminded her of stars, flashing galaxies right within her reach. She smiled, though it was colored with homesickness as she thought of her mother. My sweet Ilka, you have stars in your soul, it’s why your eyes shine so bright. She felt a twinge in her chest, a moment of regret flashing so white hot she wondered for a moment if her heart would burn a hole right through the bottom of her chest. But it didn’t.
She paused at the edge of the kingdom, the black of her satin skin blending almost perfectly with the shadows. Only the white markings on her legs and face separated her from the night, catching and reflecting the starlight and drawing her out of the darkness. She felt that small bead of uncertainty like a seed in her chest, blossoming quickly into indecision that left her lingering uncertainly at the Gates edge, those nearly gold eyes peering passively through the dark. ILKA makai x oksana
07-22-2015, 11:38 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-25-2015, 02:22 PM by Wichita.)
A whinny escaped her mouth, a call, a request. One that borderline on a demand, teetering on the edge just so. Her daughter Tioga had started life shy, a shrinking violet. As she she aged, things changed. She gained confidence playing with the other foals, rarely returned at dusk as she was asked. So the silver dapple scouted the Gates, intent on bringing little miss can't mind, straight home.
The night felt crisp against her dainty frame, the winter would soon be upon the land, encasing it in snow. A yearly struggle for the little female to try trudging though at times. Wichita was an almost pony sized pintorabian, her dark pelt a contrast to her flaxen mane and tail. Her face was adorned with a powdered snip, and the last but likely most noticeable, we're her eyes. They were brown, like milk chocolate, with golden Egyptian cat eye markings. An odd decor for a southern belle, a contradiction to her honeyed accent.
"Tioga!"she cried, though her voice irritated she could not smother her concern."Why I tell ya what, that child. She gonna drive me ta an early grave,"she muttered and gruffled. She spotted just faintly some movement, crossing the distance with a hurried stride. All the while she was barking, "Tioga, you rotten little thing. I been yellin' for ya for a good hour. Is that any way ta treat your momma, I-"
She realized now that was not in fact Tioga, the blast of white marks now noticeable. "Oh, I am so sorry sug. Who might you be?"Her accent was heavy, a smokey,sweet twang lilting from her maw.
 Aspiring Diplomat of the Gates
07-25-2015, 01:04 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-28-2015, 01:57 AM by pyxis.)
she'll lie and steal and cheat and beg you from her knees
make you think she means it this time
There was darkness in Pyxis too—and sadness, and confusion, and hurt. At the tender age of four, she had seen her father but once, and it was when the wild-eyed stallion had been running from her and her mother and her siblings. She had not understood it then and if she was being honest with herself, Pyxis still did not understand it now. He had run and left them all to fend for themselves—a family whose self-destruction streak seemed to run a mile wide. Even their mother, who was often soft-spoken, had a tendency to love too fiercely—clinging too tightly to those who mattered most. They were all beautiful in their own ways, even sweet when they wanted to be, but ultimately—they were just time bombs.
But it didn’t matter, because it had taught Pyxis an important lesson, one that she had wrapped tight in her heart of hearts: love kills. Not only that, but it maims. It cripples. It completely destroys. So she had made a promise to herself that she would not love, not truly. There were some risks that she was not willing to take, some things that she was not willing to lay on the line. If she was going to self-destruct, it was going to be on her own terms.
But not for someone else. Never for someone else.
Of course, her rules did not extend to Ilka (and the rest of her family). Ilka, she loved whole heartedly. Ilka, she loved with every cell in her body. There was a softness to Ilka that seemed to be missing in the rest of them; a dreaminess that swept through her. Pyxis could not stop herself from wanting to protect it. So she had followed Ilka as she walked to the Gates with Malis by her side; she had felt the emotions welling up in her throat and the tearing of something in her gut. The Chamber did not drive her away as it did Ilka (there was something in the cool fog, in the beat of her grandfather’s heart in the soil, in the trees), but it did not claim her in the same way that it claimed the others. She could leave it and still live.
So she trailed Ilka into this new kingdom with its sweetness and tranquil breezes, watching her intently with her ice blue eyes. It was only when Ilka was approached that Pyxis made herself known, walking up to the side of her sister and bumping her neck gently with her nose. “Hi,” she breathed gently before she turned her steady gaze to the other mare, taking her in passively before giving a sugared smile. “This is my sister, Ilka.” Syrupy sweet was not Pyxis’ norm, but she adapted well to what was around her. “And I’m Pyxis.”
she'll tear a hole in you, the one you can't repair
but I still love her, I don't really care | |
let my change of heart occur A voice hurtles through the dark, it’s strange and accented, full of urgency but without distress. For a moment Ilka waits in the following silence, surround by fireflies flickering against her shoulders like sunken stars and a quiet that drapes around her like a blanket. She can make out the thump-thump of feet moving across soft ground, the rustle of plant as it pushes aside to make room for legs. The voice comes again, and now that it’s closer she can pick out the strands of frustration and impatience. She can also hear the affection buried there. A smile ghosts across her lips.
Suddenly the greenery opens up and in its place appears a small brown mare with a mane as silver as the stars themselves. Ilka is startled at first, despite that the mare had been rather loud and none too sneaky, but her voice is still raised even as the sound of urgency fades from it. “Who’s Tioga?” Is all Ilka can think to say, her head tipping curiously to the side. “Maybe I can help you look?” But Ilka suspected this Tioga character didn’t want to be found, after all Ilka had heard her yelling through the trees. It would’ve been hard to miss.
There’s a touch at her shoulder then, a familiar touch, and the familiarity is the only thing that keeps Ilka from startling out of her skin. “Pyxis,” she interrupts as she turns, pushing her smiling mouth against her sisters cheek in greeting, “you came!” Her heart glowed in her chest and there was a warmth beneath her skin that drew her even closer to the mare at her side. “Did you come with me?” She says, and there is quiet caution mixed with the delight that colors her voice. “To stay with me?”
It’s only when Pyxis addresses the silvery brown mare with the accent that Ilka remembers there’s anyone else standing there. “Oh.” She breathes, that same feathery smile reappearing on her dark mouth. “Yes, I’m Ilka.”
ILKA
oksana x makai
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