the Rift

ROSCORRO

Roscorro the 'Dragon Heart' The voice scoffed. You do not possess the heart of a dragon, you are too weak willed. Too spineless. You insult all dragons with your pathetic dreaming.

"Oh will you just be quiet!" Roscorro huffed as he trudged on. His massive back hooves leaving dinner plate sized imprints in the loose soil. "I've had about enough of you tearing me down." The presence laughed. The sound was cold and hollow. Than don't make it so easy. A pathetic ant has no grounds to complain when it is stepped on. You want me to stop, man up and do something about it. Oh wait, you can't. You're too soft!

Roscorro rolled his eyes, his head raising to the heavens. Why him? Anger surged within him and he fought it. He wasn't even sure who was angry. More and more often the emotions of the shadow would flood into him. Filling him with violence and fury. Today it was to the point where he could not distinguish his own feelings from the other. Smoke and flame consumed his body until he looked like a fire-cloud from hell. he was a beast of fire and fury. never before had he wanted to break something as badly as he did now. If only the voice was standing in front of him. He'd kick its teeth in!

He stopped. Closing his eyes he breathed deeply, seeking to calm down. He felt the anger drain away as his usual calm took over. Slowly, monstrous form faded. Until only the normal wisps of smoke tumbled from his being. When he opened his eyes he noticed that his body was shaking. Every muscle wound tight like a spring.

A frown traced his lips and he moved on. Working the tension out of his muscles as he skirted the border of the flats. He did not wish to go too deep, for fear of his weight dragging him down. The desolate area was a great place to argue with one's self. No one was around to care. No herd-mates were present to question whether or not their Crown was crazy. You are a sad little thing. You try so hard to fight back the darkness within you. When it would be so easy just to embrace it. But you won't. You remain the same, broken foal that lived within the caves. Your parents were right to hide you away. You're an embarrassment.

"Argh!" The man roared as he leapt into a gallop. His muscles sprang to life as he thundered across the flats. His legs pumped like pistons. His breath coming in heavy snorts as he sucked in oxygen. The pounding of blood in his ears drowned out the voice as he raced along. He was no thoroughbred, but there was no mistaking the power that lay within the tribrid. There was a certain beauty to a steam train as it plowed along. Massive, powerful, unstoppable. Smoke streamed behind him as he tore along. A wildfire, a wraith from the pits of hell that spread out over the light colored earth like a black cloud. The back end of his form lost within the smoke. His legs ate up ground like starved wolves. He ran on.

He was not sure how long he ran. Only that he had come to a stop when the voice had finally fallen silent. His body was slick with sweat as he came to a shuttering halt. Sand sprayed everywhere at the abruptness of the stop. He bore his fangs as he sucked in air. He lifted his head once more. Looking back over his shoulder he looked at the trail he had left behind. The churned dirt that he had mercilessly shredded with his hooves and claws. The path extended far past what his keen eyes could see. He must have ran for miles.

He snorted, pawing at the earth. The pleasant burn of his muscles felt great. it had been so long since he had pushed himself. He still had more in him. Still could go further. But the tether of his herd kept him from plunging on in a dead run. He couldn't tire himself out too much. It was a long journey back. But his spirit longed to run on. Then, a thought struck him.

With a smile he called to the enchanted item that rested atop his head. The circlet glowed softly as it melted and shifted. It grew, extending over his face in a helmet. Antlers sprung from it, releasing a light colored smoke. The white tendrils of smoke drifted around him. He breathed in. The magic within the smoke entered his being. Rejuvenating him. Giving him far more energy to carry on. He could push himself to the point of exhaustion. Then summon this little item and give himself enough strength to return home. He found himself feeling deeply grateful to the gods for this gift. Invigorated once more, the man surged forward as he picked up steam once again.

"Talk."

But You Cannot Break My Hope!