07-25-2017, 03:53 PM
<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Almendra+Display|Asar" rel="stylesheet"><style>#etherchild{width:564px;border:1px solid #fff1da;box-shadow:0px 0px 5px #fff1da;}#etherchildbox{position:relative;z-index:1;background:-webkit-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-o-linear-gradient(top, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-moz-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-linear-gradient(to top, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);background:-ms-linear-gradient(bottom, rgba(23,21,22,0), rgba(23,21,22,1)150px);margin-bottom:-160px;padding-top:5px;padding-bottom:50px;}#etherchildpic{position:relative;z-index:0;}#etherchildtext{width:500px;font-family: 'Asar', serif;font-size:13px;color:#fff1da;line-height:14px;}#etherchildquote{color:#fdf5ed;font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive;font-size:15px;font-weight:bold;line-height:14px;}#etherchildname{color:#fdf5ed;font-family: 'Almendra Display', cursive;font-size:60px;text-transform:uppercase;margin-top:0px;margin-bottom:0px;}#etherchildquote2{color:#fff1da;font-family: 'Asar', serif;font-size:13px;margin-top:-20px;}</style><center><div id="etherchild"><div id="etherchildbox"><p id="etherchildquote">The sun crashed down to the ground, the moon rose up into the sky bright red,<br/>the dead climbed up from their graves and fell to their knees saying<br/>"Come one, come all, come see and believe."</p><p id="etherchildtext" align="justify">Tendrils of fog reach out from the center of that still lake, shadowy fingers that seem to reach for him with deceptive gentleness. He can see through that water as easily as he can see through air, the pebbled lake bed sharp to his unnatural sight. A light, eerie and without apparent source, illuminates the calm water, highlighting the softly rolling mist.
His breath sounds loud and harsh in his ears, his small body trembling with fatigue and pain. He knows he should not be still, should not remain, but he cannot seem to tear his gaze from the surface of that lake.
Then the melody starts, a soft, gentle crooning that drifts through the air like the insidious, creeping fog. Ether starts violently at the abrupt sound, abused flesh and quivering muscles drawing tight at the unexpectedly haunting music. But he is powerless to resist its reaching grasp.
At first it is just a lovely tune, sounds that pluck at already overwrought nerve endings. But then the melody sinks deep within him, a gentle probe that sends soft, almost imperceptible fingers into his consciousness, into his very heart and soul. Almost without thought, his body relaxes, the tug of those delicate, insistent tethers drawing him forward. The shadow he clutches so close dissapates, falling away into nothingness. He stumbles, torn, aching flesh weak but still obedient, following the lullaby as though he were little more than a marionette
The mist parts before him, the glass surface of the lake waiting, inviting. A shuddering breath, a too easy step, and he is upon the water. His hooves do not sink under the still surface as they should. Instead the shimmering liquid cushions his step, springy and resilient beneath his hesitant gait. But that anomaly is soon forgotten, pushed to the recesses of his memory by persistent, tugging fingers. The song is different now, more insistent, somehow familiar. He is powerless to resist its draw.
As the mist parts before him, illuminating a figure just there, at the center of the lake, his vision sharpens, focuses. He is lost then, brought so easily to that still, silent figure by unseen hands. At first he does not recognize it, this equine of the lake. It could be one of a hundred horses with youthful features and an adolescent, growing body. But with the rising intensity of the song, understanding comes.
He cannot help but stare, a deep longing burgeoning in his breast with each passing moment. He knows now that this is not someone he is familiar with, not sibling or mother or father. No, this is someone for whom he longs, for whom he wishes with all his youthful heart. A friend.
Every steady, thrumming beat of his heart deepens the ache, reminding him of everything he has been missing in his lonely solitude. A confidant and a helpmate, a companion. He can almost see what could have been. What might still be. Can almost taste the happiness, the satisfaction. The completion of his thus far quiet, lonely life with shadow as his only friend.
As he stares at that face, both so familiar and utterly foreign, he knows that he will find it, will recognize it. Should this ugly otherworld ever deign to spit him back out [to return him to the world of light and living] he would find this horse. He would find this horse because it is the only thing he has ever truly wanted. The only thing he has ever truly needed.
How it had taken this, a mysterious, mist-filled lake in the depths of a terrifying, monster filled otherworld, for him to recognize the truth, he cannot begin to say. But with that terrible, saddening truth staring him in the eye, he finally understands. He finally knows what his life has been lacking, what his lonely heart has been telling him all this time.</p><p id="etherchildname">Ether</p><p id="etherchildquote2">Shadow son of Shahrizai and Ilka</p></div><div id="etherchildpic"><img src="https://s3.postimg.org/t9uy4hbs3/Ether.jpg"/></div></div></center>
His breath sounds loud and harsh in his ears, his small body trembling with fatigue and pain. He knows he should not be still, should not remain, but he cannot seem to tear his gaze from the surface of that lake.
Then the melody starts, a soft, gentle crooning that drifts through the air like the insidious, creeping fog. Ether starts violently at the abrupt sound, abused flesh and quivering muscles drawing tight at the unexpectedly haunting music. But he is powerless to resist its reaching grasp.
At first it is just a lovely tune, sounds that pluck at already overwrought nerve endings. But then the melody sinks deep within him, a gentle probe that sends soft, almost imperceptible fingers into his consciousness, into his very heart and soul. Almost without thought, his body relaxes, the tug of those delicate, insistent tethers drawing him forward. The shadow he clutches so close dissapates, falling away into nothingness. He stumbles, torn, aching flesh weak but still obedient, following the lullaby as though he were little more than a marionette
The mist parts before him, the glass surface of the lake waiting, inviting. A shuddering breath, a too easy step, and he is upon the water. His hooves do not sink under the still surface as they should. Instead the shimmering liquid cushions his step, springy and resilient beneath his hesitant gait. But that anomaly is soon forgotten, pushed to the recesses of his memory by persistent, tugging fingers. The song is different now, more insistent, somehow familiar. He is powerless to resist its draw.
As the mist parts before him, illuminating a figure just there, at the center of the lake, his vision sharpens, focuses. He is lost then, brought so easily to that still, silent figure by unseen hands. At first he does not recognize it, this equine of the lake. It could be one of a hundred horses with youthful features and an adolescent, growing body. But with the rising intensity of the song, understanding comes.
He cannot help but stare, a deep longing burgeoning in his breast with each passing moment. He knows now that this is not someone he is familiar with, not sibling or mother or father. No, this is someone for whom he longs, for whom he wishes with all his youthful heart. A friend.
Every steady, thrumming beat of his heart deepens the ache, reminding him of everything he has been missing in his lonely solitude. A confidant and a helpmate, a companion. He can almost see what could have been. What might still be. Can almost taste the happiness, the satisfaction. The completion of his thus far quiet, lonely life with shadow as his only friend.
As he stares at that face, both so familiar and utterly foreign, he knows that he will find it, will recognize it. Should this ugly otherworld ever deign to spit him back out [to return him to the world of light and living] he would find this horse. He would find this horse because it is the only thing he has ever truly wanted. The only thing he has ever truly needed.
How it had taken this, a mysterious, mist-filled lake in the depths of a terrifying, monster filled otherworld, for him to recognize the truth, he cannot begin to say. But with that terrible, saddening truth staring him in the eye, he finally understands. He finally knows what his life has been lacking, what his lonely heart has been telling him all this time.</p><p id="etherchildname">Ether</p><p id="etherchildquote2">Shadow son of Shahrizai and Ilka</p></div><div id="etherchildpic"><img src="https://s3.postimg.org/t9uy4hbs3/Ether.jpg"/></div></div></center>