Nothing is ever certain (Part 1)

We, the spirits of eternity, aren't encouraged to interfere with the ongoing of mortality. The perishable flesh is corrupt…their imperfect decisions shouldn’t affect our peace nor alter our permission for flawless indifference. Until now. Though the clearing, our utopia, itself is a separate thread in the web of their existence -a presence held apart- we perceive the deficient of those deities that oversaw us. Twilight has come, their destruction is nigh. Even as they amass and foster war against their oppression, their murderer. Bleakness, helpless…both the proud and meek fill heaven with horrified, terror filled screams. One after another is consumed; mounting desperation. While they wriggle and squirm, their divine power begins to fade, until finally -unbelievably- it is snuffed from existence. Their latest harbinger emerges victorious; his spoils are the entirety of many nations. A world. Stale emotions churn up like a tornado; shedding their cobwebs and flinging dust. The immense tragedy of that magical realm creates a gaping, brackish emptiness inside me... Hungrily, his darkness crawls into every crevice, sickening my beloved home - nay, manslaughtering it. Groaning, we, the souls of their departed, stir. Concern blossoms to the surface of my heart; a fragile bloom of fractured, unfocused humanity. It wasn't my place to interfere...nar...still, I couldn't resist the lure which drives this spectral form to their bleak, pulsing floor. Even without physical form, the perception of intense power is almost tangible. The like of which I’ve never been tasted before. Names, countless, their precious faces are flung to the front of my mind while surveying the wake of their self-destruction. Zahra…Ranjiri…Cera…my beloved children didn’t emerge in the clearing... but neither are they here, in this broken land.  Growling frustration and restless yearnings tug upon my interest. Where are they? Her presence warms me from behind, she is a spirit of purity and compassion; her untainted aura brightens our gloomy atmosphere. Quietly, the ethereal creature whispers and reaches with abundant tenderness for my figurative self, offering comfort. Assurance. Laboriously, I turn to face her brilliant, glowing expression...but the softness and love in those eyes isn't enough to quell the unease that bubbles to the surface. She frowns slightly and casts our focus to the gateway; that pulsing array of wild magic. Crackling as it creates a torrent – buffering the air with static energy.   Curiosity tugs me to the lips of that forbidden place. Whatever lay beyond…more than likely it wasn’t meant for spenders who’d cashed in their last nugget. Though…again, I couldn’t quell the impossible yearn to reach out, discover for myself what became of our lineage. Anxiously, she rubs against my intangible form. Her urgent gesture stills that forward momentum; purposeful words filter through our timeless connection, “they might still be here.” There is never question that my return to her utopia wasn't reassured. And as such, unsurprisingly, her understanding is swift -- we didn’t need tongues to convey the paternal song which rang in my heart. She knew. Without further hesitation -fearlessly assuming my death has nothing to dread- this form passes into that kaleidoscope mouth. Instantly, her guiding light is engulfed…a chilling, vibrating darkness weighs upon my ghostly shape! The peace found from the ease of divinity is cut off. Panicked, stagnate emotions begin to fill in those vacant scars which time has left behind. Then…pain, sharp and prickling as unseen fingers entice; creating impossible shivers while they probe and trace those previously forgotten corridors. Defying my intangibility with vile certainness. Mercifully, consciousness relieves my memory… ---- Earth…solidness. Groggy emotions swell into view – arising from their slumber with vengeance. Frantically, I move…my head rises weakly, dripping as it lifts from the sodden floor. Aches…fevering cramps still linger in my gut and hindquarters…in my… Ashen shutters peal apart, their ebon lashes casting rain aside, they tilt…gravitating upon an insane, sideways sprawl of adult legs that would better suit that of a newborn by how weak and useless they looked. Ivory, sun tipped arms lay on either side, flopped into the grim without care. The air…stagnant, bitterness. Thick with moisture. A terrified sound floods these gasping, underused lungs like a raspy smog; ivory teeth clank, crushing together. Every breath is labored – uncustomary. Silver goblets still fall…panting, they splash frigidly upon over-sensitive skin. Wobbling, swaying – my head follows the will of memory to peer at the wrecked threshold just behind me. That doorway…it’s still there -- sitting with its sickened, multicolored mouth. A small thought of kindness…mayhaps that is the way to return again. Horrifically, the notion is instantly tailed with a disarray of others, what would happen if...broken, disjointed questions cut my ongoing concerns off. Hundreds of unanswered utterances fling themselves forward all at once! Sensations -wet, cold, shivering- are introduced into this body all at once. Another broken cry lifts from these lips as swaying brims lean into the muddy, sodden ground. OC {Safe?} Passive | Golden touch :: pure gold springs up from where his hooves touch, turning nonliving things into gold. The effect is temporary and will fade after a moment. Magic | Sand control :: Able to control sand and condense it into shapes. Magic | Metal crafting :: Able to smelt any metal and use it to craft non-magical items. Item | A silver, heart shaped charm nests close to his pulse, beneath the gloss of jetted hair. That stunted, platinum chain on said minuscule token has become woven into the fibers of his hair -- it isn't easily jolted.

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