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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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    [Fairies] So whose gonna save us now, when the ashes hit the ground
    #1
    Briella
    your eyes are lined in pain, black tears don't hide in rain

    The Void, the Beyond- the world of the Dream… the overlapping realms that exist have finally caught up with her, and Briella has felt the lengthening of her legs and the development of muscle and bone, of age as it forces her to become anew. Shape changed; but still the same, her coat is darker and smuttier with an faux-chocolate appearance. Those pale blue eyes are still the same but the blonde mane and tail are graced by unmelting ice and frost spreads across her body, a reminder of the failure.

    She lifts her head- stares at the shadow of the mountain cast over Beqanna. In her heart she aches, the pain and suffering of her sickness: of the cries from others. She walks across the Pampas, carries herself through the forest- gone while Dovev and Brazen slept.

    Briella inhales, closes her eyes and feels the fever causing her to shiver and shudder, feels the sticky blood on her nose and the coughing the wracks her weighted lungs. She walks the trails that are familiar to her, nettle and spring- the brush dense and trees wet from rain. She smells the mouldy earth and moss, the loamy soil and primordium: she can even feel it when her legs sink into the ground and when her whole being is plunged into the shadows of the trees.

    Ether has taught her not to fear them.

    Hardened in a way, she steps onto the spiralling and rocks trailways, walks even with the sound of stone grinding and cracking… the shrill wind ever present. Caverns that she once squeezed into are now too challenging and she takes a breath as she hears the pounding sound of stone slamming into the earth some feet behind her. It rumbles; but, it is not an avalanche, not an earthquake… and she she walks, carries on and guides herself upwards.

    “Fairies.” she states, quietly and softly- her eyes watching the platforms and the wild rocks. “You watched me as a child, long ago in the Den. You kept us safe for so long, and I always believe in you. That you would protect us; but I know now that it can’t always be that way. That sometimes we have to stop ourselves: protect those we love. I’m trying so hard to help- I really am.” she’s pleading, tears stinging her eyes.

    “Please- I need to keep trying, I have to keep helping. I can’t lose anyone else… no one, not even you.” it sounds like weeping, like bitterness and quiet: helpless and unable to understand… Briella waits, though, and she hopes that there is a way.

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    #2
    Neutrality and benevolence are often bedmates, but to assume them entwined is beyond foolish. Were she older, she might know this, might think to display caution and gratitude in the face of the fey.

    Altruism is, after all, an entirely mortal concept.

    The ice magic slips from her grasp, pooling at her feet in sheet of moonshine and stardark that reflects the woman she will someday be rather than the girl she is. It slips forward in the space of a breath, climbing the many legs of a white-eyed creature who had not been present a heartbeat before.

    It might have been a horse at one point, but now it bulges with magics. Small, large, everything between. The magic seeps from its wild eyes in endless tears and from each pore on its black-black skin. Gathered magics, borrowed magics, stolen magics. Magics that have not been earned, magics that have been soured by their wielders in unintended usage.

    Magics they have been given, but have not deserved.

    The fey takes them back, and in their place plants the awareness they should have always had. There are limits to everything: even the fairies' benevolence.

    You rolled a 5 and will not be granted a trait. Briella has lost her temporary ice healing.
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