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fury and blades
Trial Green Labyrinth 
Explorer Kiada
Currently championing: Vjanta
#1
You think I'll be the dark sky
She approached the Labyrinth once more. The tar that coated her heart was beckoning now, begging her to return and face the formidable Metus. She had not been there when they restored Hope to him, she had not witnessed the large, papery-skinned creature eat the ball of light. But she returned, to face him when she had simply left the last time she attempted this. And she was decked out in all her armor, all her glory. Her entire top half of her body was covered with her rose-gold platemail. Her face plate, razor sharp and glittering in the dimming light was alight with blue and black flame, and over the rest of her body, she had summoned her wing armor, wincing as it pierced her flesh at the withers, but grinning in spite of the pain as it covered the rest of her armor.

She was encompassed in blades, with fire ready to roar over them. She was a storm of fury and flame, and she was prepared to face the Metus.

And so, as she moved through the Labyrinth, searching cave after cave, she remembered the area well enough to know when she reached the correct position. Her head was lifted, pride and excitement leaking from her body as she stared down the mouth of the cave. She was a warrior, and warriors didn’t balk at the sight of battle. And with that in mind, with no hesitation, she approached the mouth of the cave.

"Talk."
so you can be the star? —
I'll swallow you whole.
Kiada
image | coding


Kiada must challenge the Magnus Metus! Also tagging Eira for her trial as well to face him <3

TROY FALLS A THOUSAND TIMES,
IN EVERY DREAM I DREAM.
(LIKE ASHES, LIKE ASHES,
LIKE A STAR BURNING OUT.)
Eira
Currently championing: Reszo
#2
Eira...
She’d heard about the Green Labyrinth, listened to the winds which gossiped about foul creatures lurking between the grim mists and bamboo, heard the tales retold by strangers about a solitary demon that prayed upon the helpless and hapless, that strayed into his lair. It was for this reason the journey north west from the comfort of the rainforest had taken her so long; Eira was horribly afraid of the Magnus Metus that lurked within. Her grey skin, lost beneath the wool of a coat that would not shed, was trembling awfully as her tired, sunken eyes surveyed the looming ridge of vegetation through the sheets of endless rain.

This was it…

Lightning cracked in a fierce collaboration of sound and light, aiming yet another blow toward the rash-eaten back leg, deadened with static energy. She knew, for the voice in her head had explained mere days after her descent into the Rift, that the only way to be rid of the curse, was to challenge this faceless nightmare and presumably come out of it alive. “This is hopeless…” she breathed unhappily to the little Eriucla who had unknowingly become somewhat of a sounding board for her thoughts; it was true though, goodness only knew how she - the little, emaciated waif - would stand tall before a monster purged from hell.

“I wonder if I’ll die.”

A figure loomed in the mist ahead, taller and by all accounts confident in their stride. Eira’s small, soft ear (the other harboured her friend), flicked forward with interest. Could she maybe follow that stranger in? Black cloven hooves thumped forward beneath the bent swing of her lean legs and she hastened towards the point where the metal-clad horse had vanished from view. Leafy spears towered intimidatingly above and the swirling presence of dingy western mist gathered about her hesitating, rotting frame. The scent of the other lay thick upon the air. In an uncharacteristically bold move, Eira pushed off after the other at a clumpy, clumsy canter…

A glint of light in the shadows ahead suggested that the mare she was tracking was nearby. The young orphan wondered about her confidence - the fact that fear seemed not to overbear her flavour like it surely did her own. Soon enough, she had followed to what appeared to be the gaping, sinister-looking mouth of a cave… While her company stood battle-ready before it, Eira slid along the wall of the corridor which had led them there, ears laid nervously backwards, dark-blue eyes bulging with worry and scrawny, sickly frame as small and inconspicuous as she could hope to achieve. “We have to be brave now, little fairy. It’ll be ok.”
"I am a book of snow,
a spacious hand, an open meadow,
a circle that waits,
I belong to the earth and its winter."

- Pablo Neruda, Winter Garden


Eira is facing him too :3 thank you Sky
Rift Presence
Currently championing:
#3

The scent of flesh upon the wind awoke the slumbering beast. Saliva immediately filled the gaping jaws of the ravenous beast. The hunger that could never be satiated roared in his shriveled belly. Tight, papery skin hugged a hunched torso close, brandishing rib after rib all in a row. There were no eyes atop the creature's head, so he relied only on the scent and smell of those who dare lurk in his home.

It seemed this time there wasn't a need to search for his prey, for they were more than willing to bring themselves to him on a silver platter. As his razor sharp teeth rotated eagerly in his maw, the sticky saliva dripped from gaping jaws as his body slowly rotated in the direction of the smaller creatures. From the sound of it, there were two creatures. One bigger, clad with something metallic that caused the scent of blood to drift in his general direction.

The other was much smaller, smelling sickly and sounding unwell. The first was a decadent prize for the Metus, but the small one would likely offer little for his appetite. However, the beast was greedy, and he would take whatever he could find. With a raucous roar he stomped forward, saliva flapping everywhere as the beast prepared for the upcoming battle.

damnation prayer
» Presence of the Rift «


Explorer Kiada
Currently championing: Vjanta
#4
You think I'll be the dark sky
The Harpy hadn’t noticed the girl’s approach until a few moments before she descended into the cave to face the Metus. She inhaled deeply, prepared and lifting a hoof to start her trek deep down when she noticed the small girl. Immediately, her head whipped around to her with concerned eyes. She wanted to ask if the girl was lost, certainly spotting her adorning her armor would deem this place unsafe and the girl would have stayed far away – but she was here, now, and Kiada dipped her head to her in hello, noticing her flat ears and worried frame.

Then, Kiada realized that perhaps the girl might have been here for the same reason and thought this a brilliant opportunity to take. What better to face the Metus with than a warrior at your side – especially if you were young and what appeared to Kiada as thin and almost frail. So, she offered Eira a small grin, doing her best to ooze confidence as her flames licked and crackled higher. “Don’t be afraid.” She murmured to the girl, gesturing with a hoof to the mouth of the cave. “I only have to challenge him, it shouldn’t take too long before he gets tired.” She did her best to try and leak her confidence and swagger to the girl.

Suddenly, a roar echoed through the caves and her inky head flipped back. She flicked her head down and up, igniting the teal flames along the blades on the top of her face plate, and offered Eira what might have been a bloodthirsty, insane grin, before carefully making her way into the cave. “Hello, old friend.” She crooned as he stomped forward. She did her best to avoid those large claws, as her flames illuminated his pale body. Perhaps he would be afraid of fire, with skin like that. But she’d leave that for last – for now, she simply wanted to challenge him the old fashioned way.

"Talk."
so you can be the star? —
I'll swallow you whole.
Kiada
image | coding


@Eira <3

TROY FALLS A THOUSAND TIMES,
IN EVERY DREAM I DREAM.
(LIKE ASHES, LIKE ASHES,
LIKE A STAR BURNING OUT.)
Eira
Currently championing: Reszo
#5
Eira...

The coat of her mother reflected the hopelessness Helovia’s bleeding sky that day: the bleak, black atmospheric heaviness - clouds that appeared to weep grief upon the broken land laid beneath - that all, ultimately, preluded the death of the world. Eira did not understand the gravity of the situation she beheld. The tiny, well-kept foal could not begin to fathom the tragedy and loss as each face, mind and spirit was snuffed from existence before her gaping, fear-struck eyes by the black and teal smoked monster who battled them without mercy, there, in the stinking soup of swamp-mud.

Perhaps it was the posture of the stranger who stood like a ghostly silhouette against the black mouth of the earth before her, the cool courage that emanated from her battle-ready frame; or maybe it was the concerned warmth in the eyes that turned with soothing embrace towards her, feminine care and compassion that she’d been without since the loss of her mother all those many months before…

Her mother was a hero, nothing less - as was her father who marched forward so valiantly wielding fearlessly the silvery sword upon his skull toward the convulsing form of the devil to riled them. She remembered their image so perfectly, painfully, for both vanished so suddenly in the harrowing seconds which followed, and their orphan children were sucked then from the safety of their parent’s bosom, down into the perils of  Rift.

Could a year have passed already?

Eira offered a small half-smile: the remnants of determination which had all but frayed and fizzled the moment she’d stepped beyond the brightness of the open. Now she stood in the sombre shadow of the bamboo like the hunted, stepping after the more-radiant, fire-licked creature with bent knees and a twisted heart.  “Will you take me?” Though she couldn’t muster a response into words, she’d made clear her intention to follow with a bolstered nod, and tried her best to keep pace - the griffons dancing and leaping above gleaming steel, ahead, inspired the shy eyes of their audience and cleansed the wavering recesses of her tarnished imagination.

The voice of the mare, mellow in contrast, was swallowed swiftly by the guttural roar of the monster who lingered yet in darkness; its voice resonated endlessly around the cold, dank emptiness of the cave grown around them. “Is this… the Metus?” She wondered warily, pressing hot skin firmly against the damp chill of the stone wall - though she knew well that the voice expected better. Reluctantly, she peeled clear of the wall, stepping slowly, fearfully, nearer to the mare.

"I am a book of snow,
a spacious hand, an open meadow,
a circle that waits,
I belong to the earth and its winter."

- Pablo Neruda, Winter Garden
Rift Presence
Currently championing:
#6

The cave reeked like a wet, red grave and he, the Metus, strode blindly forward through the simmering humidity of his repugnant sanctuary to meet the sound of a familiar, crooning voice. Though his thoughts very briefly hesitated, recalling the moment of their previous encounter, his powerful legs did not and the talons on his naked, grey hand lunged forward to strike the space between them - they would not escape him this time…

The tail behind him licked sharply against his pointed, bony hocks angling his legs and the guttural sound in his throat roared once more. Paper-thin skin pulled tight across his extended arm and so too his forward moving gait as it stomped again ambitiously, pursuing their riling scent for the sake of his twisted, ravenous gut.

Though the method of his hunt greatly preferred the art of ambush, the fools had arrived upon his doorstep like sitting ducks and his primitive, predatory mindset could not deny the convenience or the opportunity there presented. Half rotten limbs slumped, squelched and squashed as his heavy feet slid forward among them; his long, powerful snout lifted into the open, exposing the horror of grinding, turning teeth at its end.

It wasn’t the light of the flames dancing upon her that forced the sudden balk of his hideous figure, though. Magic emanated from her revoltingly, and it deterred the focus of his attack, if only for a moment. He remembered well the blinding bubble of the same which had accompanied the familiar before and his throat growled aloud for her, warningly. His interest shifted then, naturally, to the modest potential of the sickly, lesser prize; his faceless head turned sharply, honing in hungrily on her position.
damnation prayer
@Kiada @Eira
» Presence of the Rift «


Explorer Kiada
Currently championing: Vjanta
#7
You think I'll be the dark sky
She hadn’t paid attention to the small child as she moved in further to the cave, the fire drowning out the bits of the dark that so many terrible things could happen in. Yet, she spotted the child hugging the wall, eventually moving out toward the Harpy, and she offered Eira an encouraging smile. There was a sound that her inky ears picked up a slight sound in the darkness, and she willed her flames brighter in the hopes it might cast light on their assailant.

Then, there was a sickening squishing sound of limbs left behind as Kiada looked around. The Metus had to be here, if the carnage was any reconciliation. That’s when she saw it, the churning of those sharp teeth, and her eyes widened slightly as she turned her head to look for Eira – the maternal instinct in her (protect, protect, protect) as she rounded the front of the Metus. He growled at her then, from what she didn’t know, but the sound grated on the rocks enough so that she wanted to flatten her ears against her skull.

His head shifted toward the young child, then, and Kiada whipped her head to Eira. “Stay with me, girl.” She uttered before stepping forward and summoning that blue-black flame that accompanied Kisamoa along her headdress, lowering her head so the blades pointed toward him. ‘Come and get me.’ She thought to herself, glaring at the Metus, ready to spring her tornados into action if he so much as tried to harm Eira.

"Talk."
so you can be the star? —
I'll swallow you whole.
Kiada
image | coding


@Eira <3

TROY FALLS A THOUSAND TIMES,
IN EVERY DREAM I DREAM.
(LIKE ASHES, LIKE ASHES,
LIKE A STAR BURNING OUT.)
Eira
Currently championing: Reszo
#8
Eira...
For a moment the frail blue waif stood there paralysed with fear—sight of the ferocious, faceless monster, provoking the adaptive response, ears, eyes and nostrils lifted, all senses on high alert. He loomed yet in shadow, barely discernible (whether by her confused brain or bewildered stare), save for the luminous, waltzing glow of the other mare’s active firelight and Eira’s flailing thoughts stumbled as they tried to find logic.

A sound, syllables resonating urgently around the walls of the cold, fetid-smelling tomb, yanked Eira suddenly back to reality, and she recoiled to the armour-clad soldier’s flank with bumbling, bent strides. Pressing in, should the larger accept, jutting bones, concealed beneath the rug of never-shedding fur, nestled against the unforgiving surface of the strange, tin adornments.

“What is it?” her thoughts queried feebly, frightened, though the other would not hear. The Magnus Metus, the harrowing voice of the Rift seemed to answer—or perhaps it was the threatening murmur of the monster’s hungering belly or the passage of the wind meeting hapless death in the dark contours of his room—bleeding through her resolve until she was trembling so violently that she worried her joints might split apart.

Her braver companion stepped forth with horned skull snaking low, black and teal flames suddenly devouring the feathers set upon her crown. Eira mirrored the motion of those long, sinewy, dark legs beside her; though her own action was cursed and hindered, and she looked considerably less elegant. Like a foal beside it’s dam, she flanked carefully and consciously, all to aware of her own bitter vulnerability—but the quest too, that she’d been commanded to complete.
"I am a book of snow,
a spacious hand, an open meadow,
a circle that waits,
I belong to the earth and its winter."

- Pablo Neruda, Winter Garden

@Kiada
Rift Presence
Currently championing:
#9

Something of a low, rumbling warning reverberates from the Metus, though he stands still now recognising the thrum of more magic in the air. He cannot see the flames, per say, yet the godforsaken predator can perceive their presence within his gloomy lair with miraculous acuteness. He is hesitating, visibly, as the shadows waver across his expressionless facade; flames ward them back ferociously, and with the retreating darkness he recoils.

The game is not up, mind due, he does not flee.

There is a grimness to his plight, lonely days spent in isolation, with nought but the clatter and rattle of his bone carpet to fill his thoughts. Despite the obvious, ominous spread before them, him—skulls, severed limbs and hide too withered to rot—visitors seldom colour the monotony of his bleak, black world; he yearns, half-starved, waiting for those unsuspecting few to take the wrong turn in the labyrinth beyond.

The Metus is not so foolish to waste any opportunity...

damnation prayer
@Kiada
» Presence of the Rift «


Explorer Kiada
Currently championing: Vjanta
#10
You think I'll be the dark sky
Eira, frail and small, sidled up beside Kiada and she smiled warmly down to the small girl. She allowed her in, brushing up against the long fur that the younger child bore, a small tinkering of her armor as she made room and adjusted before the Metus. Suddenly, the Harpy wished she had some other piece of armor, something to help protect her new found friend in this fight. But then, she realized that it was possible to protect the both of them should the Metus attack. She’d spring up her tornadoes, making a wall of flame between the Metus and her, and hopefully that would be the end of it. Either way, she knew that even if she was harmed in the process, she’d do everything she possibly could to make sure that Eira made it out.

The child hadn’t said anything, not like Kiada minded. It reminded her of her conversation with Vynter, a colt of little words. Even still, she lowered her head to the filly and offered another gentle encouraging smile from her pink splotched lips. “It’s okay, we’ll do fine I promise.” She said to Eira before turning to the mouth of the cave and stepping with Eira into the mouth of the cave. And suddenly, she spots the Metus as he recoils from her flames. Ah, so the tornadoes would be a great idea.

But the Metus stood in a pile of literal bones and Kiada shuddered inwardly at the sight, a grimace overcoming her previous smile to the girl. She stared, daring a step closer to completely encase herself in his domain, her hooves crunching on smaller bones the further she stepped in, cringing at the sound it made. If the Metus couldn’t see, he could certainly hear them. Her flames grew brighter, the griffons wavering and shifting between the winged beasts and tiny mice, but she refused to acknowledge her fear of him – not with the child present. “Come and get us!” She yelled out to him, bracing herself and Eira should she have followed.

If the Metus attacked, she’d toss up her tornadoes in between and hope that would be the end of it and this task on her trial would be complete.

"Talk."
so you can be the star? —
I'll swallow you whole.
Kiada
image | coding


@Eira IM SO SORRY ;_;

TROY FALLS A THOUSAND TIMES,
IN EVERY DREAM I DREAM.
(LIKE ASHES, LIKE ASHES,
LIKE A STAR BURNING OUT.)