A memory of light

For the longest time, all she knew was darkness. It could have been death and for a while she thought it was. The idea pleased her. Would it not be a great way to thwart Kisamoa the Deceiver in his plans after all, if every life he had stolen from Helovia was snuffed out before they could be manipulated further? So many had died already - what difference would a few more make? It would be worth it, and her only regret would be that she could not see the chagrin upon the face of the demon as they all defied him. 

Disembodied, she drifted through the void and pondered everything that had happened in her life up to this point. Though the memories were hazy and distorted by time and forgetfulness, Erthë still had enough pieces to lay out the puzzle of her story one by one like a colorful tapestry. One action linked into another, sometimes imperceptibly but always with the same consistent pace, a beat and a rhythm measured out by the ceaseless flow of time. Slowly, details from her life came to her, like fractions of a broken mirror they spun around her in the weightless void, glittering with the occasional flash of color and movement.

flashShe saw a white tree standing on a field of snow, solitary in its majesty, the full moon nestled into its branches.flashA black mare with eyes of amethyst draped a raven wing over her and spoke with quiet intensity, and though Erthë could not hear her words the deep voice was soothing and full of love. Beside the mare stood a tall, silver stallion and gazed at her, his eyes as blue as the sky that arched high over their heads and as glittering as the cold snow beneath her feet. flash flashA giant bear of crystal and ice reared up with a deafening roar, its shadow enveloping her in cold darkness and 
flash a lavender goddess with dark wind filling her wings danced out of the way of a black wolf, it's foul magic no match to her powerful retaliation. When the beast lay dead upon the ground before her feet, the immortal turned and with a lopsided smile tossed a black fang before Erthë, who bent to pick it up flashflashflash and she screamed as the sharp snap of the crocodile's tail threw the black shadow mare to the ground. Glistening wet blood soaked into the sand before her eyes, but though the flaming god placed a bow of bone before the dying mare he did nothing to save the blackbird, the raven, the soothing shadow that had always been by her side. Erthë wept flash and raised the ivory weapon. White light burst from the taught string and arrows of ice burrowed deep into the hide of the Tigress. It hissed and slapped its paw at Erthë, and she felt herself be lifted from the ground, colors of sky and earth swirling before her eyes all while she tumbled, tumbled trough an endless kaleidoscope of pain and grief and numb disbelief. 

flashflashflashflash

Fragments of her life passed before her, but though she recalled the emotions that had accompanied them all, everything seemed so distant now. She was numb, disabled, struck down by the all encompassing grief for what she had lost. The shards flashed again, but she did not wish to see them, did not want to relive the terror that so recently had robbed her of anything that meant something. 

flash 

It was impossible to look away. One by one the mortals charged with blazing eyes and billowing manes, heroes brave and true, willing - almost eager - to throw away their lives in the vain attempt at vanquishing the demon of Kaos that had risen before them. It was futile, of course. One by one they flung themselves at him, and one by one they died, dissolved by shadow and dark taint, robbed of all form and stripped clean of life in one fell swoop. 

flash Flash

"No..." she murmured, stirring restlessly as the nightmare enveloped her tighter in its foul grasp. 

FLASH FLASH

A silver stallion joined the fray, and Erthë screamed as his beloved face was engulfed in shadow, lost forever within the deadly darkness. He had not even known he would become a grandfather... 

flash

and the lavender form was engulfed with shadow, thrashing and writhing in resistance even as it picked away at Her glowing essence, mercilessly stripping away the familiar equine form to reveal the beautiful light of Her soul until nothing remained, no trace of the comforting, thrilling presence that had surrounded Erthë for the better part of her life...

"NOOOO!" 


Tearing herself free from the evil dream, Erthë forced herself to wake and threw open her eyes. It hardly made a difference, for the darkness around her seemed compact, impenetrable. Had she been blinded? With her heart racing in the chest Erthë strained her eyes in a desperate desire to see, even as her mind recoiled in horror at what she might be forced to perceive. Where was she? What happened to the portal, the people, the dark tainted magic that had enveloped her as she was pushed through along with the other Helovians? 

Slowly, distant light reached her through the gloom. The darkness faded and twisted into shapes, inconceivably strange and twisted, gnarled and crooked. It took a long time for Erthë to realize that they were trees. She lay sprawled on the ground, one wing bent awkwardly beneath her heavy bulk  - so numb that she feared it had disappeared. 

So. A forest. A dark and brooding forest, for sure, swathed in darkness with only those strange, glowing lights available to suggest shapes and distance. Helovia had been an enchanted place, with magic flowing abundantly throughout everything and anyone. Erthë had thought herself accustomed to strange things and familiar with the feel of energy within and around herself... 

But this place. It gave her the creeps. 

Unsettled, feeling it as if those glowing lights were eyes glaring down on her where she lay, Erthë tried to rise. Immediately a red-hot pain shot through her body and she fell gasping back into the soil - wet it was, damp and humid against her skin, though how long she would remain dry in the steady drizzle she did not want to think about. Anxious about the lives residing within her swollen belly, the young mare tried to relax, hoping that the pain would dissipate if she rested. But though the cramp subsided, it was soon replaced by another, even stronger spasm. Panic blossomed within her. It was too early! She should not be giving birth this soon, and not in this strange, wet, unfamiliar place.

 All alone. 

It struck her then, how dangerous a situation she was in. The solitude had been so customary for the young mare - ever the vagabond, as comfortable a companion as any a bonded - that she had not reflected upon it until now. But as she threw long, desperate looks around her there was no one to be seen, no familiar face for her to call out to. She didn't dare raise her voice to see if anyone was in the vicinity either, in case some hungry predator was nearby, in the event that some hostile other might be there to assault her in this the weakest of moments. 

The pain subsided. Hurriedly, Erthë threw herself up on trembling legs and moved restlessly, anxiously about. She had awoken in a small clearing of the trees on a bed of large roots and tall ferns, barely large enough to fit herself and allow for some movement. The trees looked strange, but their massive trunks provided enough shelter that she did not feel the need to move. It was well she did not, for in short time the young hybrid was forced to her knees again, the pains of labor washing over her like a storm-swept tide. 

All thought faded from her mind. There was no stopping this now. 

She was not ready, but it could not be helped. All she could do was obey the orders of her body, all while her mind clung to the memories of happier times, of light and love and all those things that would never again be hers. 

She was not ready for this. 

---

Link to Rift Participation

Magics:

• Born with sub-zero body temperature (passive, cold to the touch but cannot freeze others) 
• Able to rapidly freeze liquids (15 ft radius, not within containers)

Enchanted items:

• Metal Acorn Charm - a bronze acorn that glows in the dark
• Magical Seaweed - enchanted seaweed that lets user breathe under water while holding it in the mouth. Duration of 1 hour. 
• Feather of the Moon Goddess - a deep purple feather with a dark smoking effect (smoke or mist) 


Rift-god / Kaos items:

• Enchanted Bow made from Crocodile God
• Glowing black Fang from Wolf God

Amulets : (provide number)
• 4


Requests:

I'm not saving anything!
If her magic is mutated, I'd like for it to keep an element of ice/frost/snow but feel free to make it more dangerous/dark/aggressive/harmful!

It was not an easy birth. His mother had never been a big mare, and the foal that pushed its way out of her womb was of his fathers ilk, big boned and heavy set. The labor had dragged on and on, as exhausting for the colt as it had to be for the mare. It was too soon, really. The journey through the Portal had set things in motion ahead of time, and its effects upon the little life was not wholesome. Limp and unmoving he slid to the ground, a lump of flesh and blood and long legs. Living, for sure, and breathing through the tear in the birth sack once a sneeze had cleared the airways. But it took a long time before he began to stir, and once he did, the sensation that greeted him was a tearing, gnawing agony so profound that it cut through any thoughts or considerations he might have had.

The first thing the cold experienced in this life was pain.

Left to his own devices for the longest time, as the pale mare was still caught in the throws of labor and unable to attend to him, he procrastinated another attempt to move. The experience had not been pleasant, and his unformed mind suggested that it might be better to do nothing. It was a good notion, an idea he profoundly approved of. But lying on the ground quickly grew boring. It was warm compared to the icy chill of his mother's stomach, which was pleasant, and damp, something he also was used to. The darkness was familiar, but the sounds were far sharper and more distinct than before. Gone was the steady thump of a beating heart, gone was the quiet swishing of birth water and the familiar touch of his twin's body. Discontent grew once these reflections had passed by him. It was different. Check. Got it. Now what? Was he supposed to lie around and wait forever before someone came to check on him?

He attempted to move again. It hurt this time too, but not quite so bad. Finding this a vast improvement, the colt pushed his head up from the ground, gingerly shifted the long legs, flexed the slithering tail and the stumpy little wings. Tendrils of slime and mucus still coated his hide but he knew nothing else and did not let it trouble him as he flopped about, busy learning the function and form of his body.

Once he felt his grasp firm enough on it all, he attempted to stand.

,The lights we burn have all faded out. The second twin was much more slender, though he still maintained his father's trappings of size and power, their mother had extended her icy touch to his hide. The colt had been content within the chilled but comforting embrace, the constant presence of his twin another boon he greedily latched to. But life had other idea's, of course, the jostling had been felt by the youngest of the new sons of Volterra, and the sudden influx of distress which soaked through the bones of his mother drew his conscience from it's wandering thoughts to focus on the upheaval. The mild interest sparked into concern as suddenly the comforting presence of his twin is absent, and in his place a void of space. He doesn't have to wait for long, to find out what happened to his sibling, his other half. He soon joined him, on the damp forest floor gasping his first lungfuls of air as previously muted sounds assaulted his ears. Familiar, but different, disorted and someone not how he imagined. The colt's icy pelt is a stark contrast against the forest floor, and against the reds, purples and blues that now highlighted the skies brightly. It appeared the rift had already seeped into him, the glimmering scales and draconian tail erased traces of his normal hertage. Warped and gone awry as their mother had been dragged into the portal. Scaled tail thrashed against the floor as it's frills rippled and flared, struggling to right himself, long limbs and crystal like hooves struck out against the air as he rolled in the damp debris until they managed to find their footing. Like his brother, discontented to remain on the floor and wait for someone to tend to him, he joined him in the attempt to stand, snorting and huffing at the strain at his side, nostrils flared and reaching to try and search out his elder brother. talk talk talk

Magics:

{*] -- [SAFE} :: [ Magic: LightxEarth | Able to craft bone constructs made of crystal ]
:: [ Restrictions | Can only craft 1 large, or 2 medium or 3 small per season ]
-- :: [ Magic: FirexTime | Able to create a shower of falling stars that burn on contact. ]
:: [ Restrictions | 10m radius ]

Enchanted items
n/a

Rift-god / Kaos items
n/a

Amulets:
n/a

Companion/s:
n/a

Species change (if applicable): He's a tribrid.

Requests:
he has two genetic mutations that don't fit in with equid appearances, idk if he requires a change of one of his tribrid blood?
:: [ Item: Medium Mutation | Genetic Mutation. Crystalline Dragon Scales. ]
:: [ Item: Medium Mutation | Genetic Mutation. Dragon tail ]

For a short moment, once the second foal had been expelled from her body, Erthë allowed herself to rest. The fact that she had carried twins, rather than a single child as she had expected, would not have surprised her so if she had been more aware of her own heritage, or that of Volterra's. Twin births had been a rule rather than the exception for generations, resulting in a sprawling many branched tree of relations that connected her with far more people than she would ever have believed. That she had bedded her own cousin would have troubled her if she had known, but Vadim's neglect had left the young mare ignorant of their sin. Now that her father was dead, the secret may never be revealed, unless some higher wisdom saw fit to enlighten her.

Perhaps it was for the better that she did not know. Would she have looked at her sons the same way if she knew that they were the children of her cousin in addition to being her own offspring? Could she ever look Volterra in the eye again with the knowledge that they were tied together with bonds of blood; that her feelings for him as a brother figure had been more correct than she had ever suspected?

It was difficult enough already, just to turn and gaze upon the little bundles by her hocks. The sight of them brought her no joy. Only relief washed over her upon seeing their damp, dirty shapes. They were alive. They were breathing and stirring, already struggling to their feet as if they somehow realized how important it was to move away from this place as soon as possible. Reluctant, still sore and bone weary from the difficult labor, the newly made mother pushed herself up on her feet and inched closer to the children, unsure of what she ought to do first. Should she name them? Or was it more important to check that they were without defects? Instinct did not kick in as it should, and she hovered awkwardly a few steps away without saying anything.

---

Edit :: FORGOT TO MENTION!

Erthë has a magical eye, enchanted by Knox? on Helovia. It gives sight to her eye even though it really should be blind (and rotten/dead/gone)

The neglect was beginning to bother him, but by the time the colt had gained his feet and stood - awkwardly, true, but on his feet and upright none the less - he had already been joined by another. A familiar presence, even more so perhaps than that of the mare who was supposed to care for them, caused him to turn and gaze upon his brother with level eyes, their purple gleam eerie in their calm awareness of their duality. Immediately he realized that although they had been almost as one, few would ever know how close they had been, and were still even though their minds already began to shape their individuality. While he himself was nearly as dark as the forested wilderness around them, his younger brother was as pale as their mother and more slender, more elegant in build than he would ever be.

Other differences would surely arise in time. Such was the fate of every mortal, that they should walk alone and never truly know the minds of others, and one day this difference between him and his soul kin might begin to bother him. For now though, the nameless colt was content with simply acknowledging the wet, blood-splattered figure beside him the way he was. Without question.

Noticing the pale boy reaching for him, he accepted the silent plea for closeness and inched closer, so unsteady on his aching legs that he nearly toppled over before connecting his dark nose with the other's pale skin. Leather-bound wings flared in wordless triumph, and for a while it was enough to simply be together again, close as they had ever been in this new, alien world.

But soon enough the mare stirred, and the dark-coated hybrid turned his burning eyes upon her, examining her slender frame with quiet interest. She seemed as awkward and unsure as they were, and he wondered what went through her mind as their eyes met. Her expression was closed off, distant, the large feathered wings wrapped tightly about her swollen figure...

Wordlessly, he waited to see what she would do.

---

HELOVIA FOAL STATS:

Gender: Male
Breed: Icelandic x Draft x WB Mutt
Build for Stats: Favors father's heavy draft build
Species: Hybrid (Unipeg)
Height: 17hh
Eye Color: Purple
Color: Silver dapple black with bat wings, ibex horns, unicorn tail, and cloven hooves.
Markings: None.
Health: Unhealthy! Born with PSSM (Type 1), which will lead to stiffness/lameness/muscle fasciculations/painful exhaustion when using muscles/exercising.
Magic: None
Other: Ability for 3 active magics.

V O L T E R R A IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE New life cannot be scheduled; it happens when it happens, and these particular children could not really have chosen a worse time to be born. Vadir notices them a short distance away whilst she's on the wing looking for her red brother, and she transmits the images down to Volterra. The stallion growls deep in his throat - he doesn't know what to do. He cannot in good faith leave all his children here to go and meet the new ones, but nor can he allow Erthe to think that he doesn't care about the life they've created together. Finally he makes his mind up, and leaves Vadir to watch over his offspring whilst he shifts quickly towards Erthe. She's not far away, thankfully, and he can still see what's going on back where he entered the portal. By her side are two foals; again Volterra's virility has borne fruit. Despite everything that has happened - Helovia's destruction, Isopia's death, the loss of one of his dragons - the Indomitable feels a spasm of joy at the sight of his newest sons, a spasm that is quickly quelled beneath the weight of his anxiety about current events. He hasn't given himself chance to mourn Isopia yet or worry about Verzes, so focused is he on action and protecting his family, but he can feel the weight of the world on his shoulders at the idea that these two foals will never see Helovia. They will never meet Isopia. The Rift will be their home, and that is....sad, and terrifying. "They look good and strong," he rumbles, although his voice is frayed with nerves and his eyes keep darting between the colts towards the rest of his children further back. "And you, Erthe? Did you come through unscathed?" Volterra seems well enough, save for the burns on his body where his amulets exploded - his wounds run far deeper, like the welt in his mind where Verzes used to be, and the hole in his heart where Isopia belongs.

image credits

It wants

to

—eat them.

They're small and young and wet and fantastic and—

Its teeth—which are not teeth but more like a syringe (axe, bone saw, hungry mouth, eateateateat—) ready to lance into their souls—come up short against that weird fucking thing the Rift has learned to hate and it smells like the FALSE GODS who tore out its hearts and threw into another dimension and left this one to rot and it wants to EAT THEM—

But it fucking can't, and it's so, so sad about that.

the Rift

image

[ TRANSFER NOTES: ERTHË ]

Magic:
Offensive: Body is frigid, and causes frostbite upon contact with others.
Offensive: Can manipulate liquids, causing them to freeze, boil, dry up, etc. Each time she does it, the atmosphere emits a loud siren wail.

Items:
Vanity: A bronze acorn charm that devours light, turning her surroundings pitch black.
Vanity: A feather from the wings of the Helovian Moon Goddess. Even from beyond the grave she's a spiteful bitch - the feather will emit a deep, choking smoke each time it comes near somebody wearing an artifact of Kaos.

Kaos / God Items:
You don't know how you know, but you just know—or maybe it's that deep, distant voice, rumbling like laughter. It's both triumphant and slightly traumatized, a wild sound. The bow and the fang vibrate. After a moment, they still. But you know, this won't be the last of it.

Bow is temporarily useless.

Amulets:
They shatter. It's a relatively peaceful event, but the aftermath, is not. The residue of the Sun makes your hair and wings drip flame, harmless to your freezing body and the drenched world—but come the next Scorch..? And what is left of the Moon glitters in your hoof prints, wherever you have stepped.

The Rift feels the presence of your eye—and for a moment, it's cold and useless in its socket. Then, it goes back to normal. Whatever magic was cast on it, either the Rift does not want it, or the Rift cannot take it.

[ TRANSFER NOTES: VAN ]

Something bites you. It makes you super duper fucking pissed off, and you'll go on a five minute rampage before collapsing in a heap.

[ TRANSFER NOTES: ALVAH ]

Magic:
Crafting: Able to craft with crystal.

Species change: Alvah is now unicorn x pegasus x dragon.

,The lights we burn have all faded out. The lack of attention by their dam bothers him minutely, he's aware that her presence is as forward as it was when they were within her, but other things are more important to him now. Such as his brother and whether his legs would continue to support him as he tentatively stumbled forward, his long draconian tail thrashing and flaring behind his svelte frame. With his brother at his side, his newfound confidence surged, any lingering tendrils of second guessing or hesitancy bled away. Together they are one, but then they are not. His brother is the shadows, lording in the deep places and he is the pale moon, lording over everything she caresses with her pale touch. The newborn colt stood proud, cloven hooves buried into the dirt as he shimmered beneath the strange canopy, crystalline scales reflecting the odd lighting in hues of purple and red against the frosty sheen. His attention is soon pulled away from his brother by the approach of a goliath, skull marked face lined with curiosity at his appearance. He is larger than their mother, and even larger than themselves and he briefly wondered if he too might ever reach such great heights. But the stallion's attention isn't just on them, he rumbled something to their mother that he could only register as concern. Briefly, his reddened eyes turned to his mother with minute interest, should they be worried too? After all, she hadn't paid attention to them yet, save to shuffle closer to their dark and pale forms. Scaled tail gave an irritated flick, the crests rippling with the motion before they tucked back against his glistening scales. So with a determined snort, he turned from his brother and took a few strides forward, with courage mustered in his breast and extended his muzzle out to the larger equine. If he cannot get the attention he deserves from one, he will get it from another instead. talk talk talk

You gotta have the patience and believe you're gonna make it
Gotta hold on

The sound of something large moving through the underbrush set ringing bells of alarm  ringing through her senses. For an instant she was ready to bolt, to run, to fly or throw herself between whatever beast or demon that may come and the fragile, nameless souls she had been set to protect.

At least that part of her instincts worked as it should.

But when the looming figure dissolved into a black stallion with moon-kissed face and crimson eyes, some of her fear drained away. Not all of it though, not by a long shot. That Volterra had found them was a great relief - to see him alive and without bodily harm a great comfort as she had worried more than she would ever admit - but Erthë had not forgotten her distress upon discovering herself to be pregnant. And now he came waltzing in here unbidden, unasked for, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He didn't even have the decency to be surprised about the foals.

But it was his query after her well being that hit her the hardest. The green eyes that turned on him appeared almost black with grief, her bitter smile as much an open wound as any bleeding cut might have been. How could he even ask that? She may have no physical injuries, but none who had seen what they both saw could ever be alright. Not for years, perhaps not ever.

Erthë had just opened her mouth in retort when she suddenly stiffened, alarmed by the sensation of eyes upon here. Snapping her head up and looking sharply about, the little mare's skin crawled when the otherness of the observer dawned upon her, the hungry attention upon her children so raw and unbridled that she wanted to scream with terror.

And then she heard it. The voice. The haunting, distant laughter reached her on damp winds, more felt than heard. Around her neck the black fang began to vibrate, and so too did the ivory bow that rested beneath her wings. Terror rose like bile in her throat, and just as Erthë thought that it was gone, that it was over, the amulets dispersed across her body shattered. One by one, the cracking stones fell from horn and mane, from tail and neck and as she was engulfed in a sudden onrush of flame Erthë threw the objects off her one by one, every single item descending to the ground while she backed away from them.

"What is going on!?" she demanded, nearly brought from her senses... and then the dark coated foal gave off a furious squeal and set off as if bitten, his spindly legs carrying him round and round with astonishing speed for one so small.

That was the last straw. Erthë felt how tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed, and for once she couldn't bring herself to care. It was just too much. The fear, the pain, the confusion, relief over seeing a familiar face paired with the mixed feelings towards the two colts, one who still ran around like mad and the other who had set off with determination towards his father.

Never in her life had Erthë longed so desperately for a chance to lay her head down and just sleep. Anything, just to get away from this horrible, horrible reality.

I know you're tired of surviving but you gotta keep on trying
Hold on!

@Volterra

V O L T E R R A IF IT FEELS GOOD, TASTES GOOD, IT MUST BE MINE HEROES ALWAYS GET REMEMBERED BUT YOU KNOW LEGENDS NEVER DIE There is something beautiful about new life and the rawness of it, the innocence of it. These colts don't know what's transpired before their birth; they are a pair of clean slates, and it is refreshing to have that knowledge. Hard as it is, Volterra attempts to force aside his tempest of emotions and just focus on his newest sons. One of the boys comes forward determinedly, extending his muzzle to his mammoth sire. The stallion notices the odd scales that cover him, and has to hide a frown - is that a result of the Rift, or a quirk of genetics? He lowers his own face and snorts softly into the colt's nostrils in greeting, marvelling not for the first time at the tiny size of the boy who will one day grow into a mighty man. "Hello," comes his deep growl, although he makes a marked attempt to soften it for the colt's benefit. Erthe looks to him, and her expression concerns him. He's aware that his abrupt manner may seem flippant, uncaring almost, but it's the only way he can cope with what's happened. It is the only way he can process everything he's lost. The sudden manic laughter bids his ears to pin and his nostrils to flare in a snort, and he prances on the spot as he automatically shifts to place his monolithic form between Erthe, the children, and whatever the source of the laugh is. There's nothing there, but the stallion's quivering muscles remain tense. He shifts to try and touch his great frame to Erthe, reminded of their last meeting - there's nothing sexual in this touch though, only reassurance and friendship. "You have done well. Giving birth after what happened in Helovia...only a strong woman could have done that." He seeks to nuzzle her gently. He's trying to remain calm, a pillar of strength and support - it doesn't matter that he's dying on the inside, that he's lost so much he can hardly find the energy to hold his head up high. He needs to stay strong for them, for his precious little family, his children and their army of mothers. After all, it was his quest for pleasure that created the army of lives nearby. It's his responsibility to care for them, no matter how much he's breaking inside. "The rest of my family are just over there. Would you and the boys like to come over with me?" He tilts his white-marked head at her, glancing with concern as the other colt runs around like a maniac. At least he's stood up, and his energy is a good sign.

image credits

rly want to finish this because RF