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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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    [open quest]  [ROUND 2] i can feel the flames on my skin
    #8
    Things were quiet for a moment following Aten’s newly acquired ‘blemish’, a slight buzz still ringing in his skull until the pain from the horn began to die down. Every so often, Aten would lower his head again and rub his head against his leg, doing his best to avoid actually rubbing the horn in case it would hurt. However this happened, Aten could not say, but he knew it had to do something with the voices he’d been hearing earlier.

    A voice that was suddenly returning with a vengeance. Only this one was angrier, and sounded familiar, unlike the ones from before. The stallion looked around in confusion before something began to sprout from the ground between the two pillars, a blend of shadows until they split and formed a solid object. And, to Aten’s surprise, this horse that appeared was frighteningly familiar.

    Standing before him, in his glory, was his sire. Almost a rather cliche appearance, but it was something that, even after all these years, Aten did not have the courage to face. The shadows of his sire haunted him not because of how the golden stallion was expected to be like him, but rather, another guilty sin lurking in his heart. He had promised his parents, his sire… he would take care of them…

    And to this day, he still had no idea where they were. Aten watched the horse for a moment, quietly, the two of them having a staring contest until something else changed. The horse’s skin started to shift in appearance, a display Aten also recognized since the gift was his to begin with. The horse’s fur changed so it reflected like the water in the light, indicating that diamond-hard scales had formed over it’s body, and it’s hooves began splitting apart to form the familiar sharp claws that Aten could almost feel the sensation of in his own hooves despite not being able to shift himself.

    The stallion’s nostrils flared, a thick cloud of smoke billowing out, lastly indicating he’d gained the most dangerous ability of the beast inside Aten. The golden one felt a chill run through his blood; being able to transform was one thing. Staring the beast down like this, it sent fear racing through him, and he took a step back, vaguely catching a flash of red from the corner of his eye.

    The stallion pawed at the ground before it finally spoke, it’s voice rough and hard like it’s throat had been filled with gravel and sand, “Failed… you… worthless…”

    Aten grew angered by those words, “No… no… it wasn’t my fault… I was just a weanling…”

    “Failed… worthless… you… betrayed them… forget…”

    Aten shook his head, “No… never… Mother and I… we were alone…”

    The stallion didn’t speak this time, but he let out a shrill call that slowly grew deeper until it resembled the dragon’s growl. Aten watched with a wary eye as the stallion began stepping closer, menacingly, one at a time, trying to instill fear in the golden stallion.

    Aten shook his head continuously, letting out a scream of rage as the other stallion charged. It went up on it’s back feet and began swiping at Aten, the golden stallion jumping to the side to avoid the dragon’s claws.

    “I was a foal! I never knew where they went! I tried to find them!” With each word that left his mouth, another swipe of the dragon’s claws came, and the more he went on, the closer they got to his softer flesh.

    Aten’s guilt was building now, like a load of rocks piled on his back. How could he ever forget the promise he made to his sire, to his dam? Even as the youngest sibling, he promised he’d watch out for his brother and sisters, especially Silena, since he’d been with her following the Reckoning. He’d promised his sire and dam he’d care for his family when he was younger, as his other siblings had done, but when everything went to hell…

    And Aten honestly tried hard to find them, he really did. And how hard could it be to find out news of three horses who closely matched him appearance-wise? Really, the only differences they had were in markings.

    As Aten kept jumping out of reach, he was forced to confront his thoughts. What was he grappling with here? What did he feel guilty about? Did he even feel guilty anymore? His thoughts distracted him long enough that the dragon’s claws came down and swiped his shoulder, and Aten’s mind turned from reflective, to rage.

    Turning to meet the dragon, Aten fought back, the two stallions grappling for their lives. The other had an advantage given his claws, but Aten’s own skills were on par, hooves, claws, and breath of fire flying back and forth until they were left to face each other, panting, and, in Aten’s case, a bit bloodied. The other stallion was marked with bruises, while Aten had the shoulder injury, as well as a fresh one on his withers and right hindquarter.

    His eyes narrowed as he watched the other stallion, and, in this moment of silence, he noticed something. A familiar spark in his eyes… the marking on his forehead… memories flooded Aten’s brain, and as if the horn helped him come to the conclusion when it buzzed on his head again, he figured it out.

    The guilt was not stemmed toward his father, or himself… and one day he would face it. For now, he charged first this time, and watched as the stallion reared up. Aten ducked under and pushed up with his front legs, the fresh horn on his forehead burying itself in the stallion’s chest. He felt pain as he yanked it free, and watched wordlessly as the stallion collapsed before his body faded away into dust.

    Aten’s eyes teared as he thought fondly of his sire. He looked back at the boulders again, ready.

    He’d face it… one day…



    OOC: 1,000 words. Aten's battles are still mostly with his own demons, hence the focus on mental. Given more room though he is quite a capable physical fighter.
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    RE: [ROUND 2] i can feel the flames on my skin - by Aten - 01-13-2020, 05:18 AM



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