"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
'It's a heartbeat. I'm sure.' I don't let on much else, the heartbeat is strong, a rigid pulse of a life long gone, but still existing. I don't give too much how you could know of pulses and heartbeats, I've taken a few hearts to know the sound of their frail beating until the time came and they just... stopped.
I remember then, flashes of conversation with the ebony Prince. the chamber took a heart, what was the name, Atrox? the name tastes like ink upon my tongue, spoilt and dark, cold and flowing. I say nothing then, my long limbs marching on, slipping behind the bay soldier. the ash on this terrain thickens the air, clotting the atmosphere with secrets and lucid memories. I have a stark feeling then, rigid, unmoving in my chest. A desire, a want to have been part of whatever it was that happened here. The scarred earth told many a tale, the ashen air hushed lips of secrets never told. I turn back, my azure gaze falling upon Killdare. Mind ticks, turns like the workings of a clock, always shifting, always turning. My heartbeat matches the faint pulse which grows deeper, resounds more prominent the closer we get.
'I seem to recall Sir Erebor mentioning something about hearts.' I taste the air, acrid, bitter, yet somehow blissful sweet in the back of my throat. This is home, without a doubt, this chamber, it has marked me somehow, with a sinfully delicious touch. I feel it embedding, bone deep into me. The Chamber, she is everything I work for, everything I need and it fills my mind with nothing but want to please, meaning to exist. I stomp a hoof then, hypnotising winds of smoke and decay mar my vision, my nostrils as I breath one long, exaggerated inhale. 'I know one thing, The Chamber has stolen mine.' the locked away burden in my chest, somehow this kingdom has found a key, or a very well placed lock pick, and has dove into the depths of my chest and stolen from me the precious organ that remained bleak and dead inside. it had given me a new purpose, and with it comes a sly little grin, as I turn back to Killdare. 'She worms her way inside. I feel it, I feel the secrets wanting to be known, the tales needing to be told. But we, mere servants of a supreme far greater than life, are guardians, protectors of that very essence.' I pause, a bewildered look in my sapphire gems, a bleary eyedness that casts a glass like appearance, as though my mind, my tongue is not my own. I stomp a hoof briefly. 'Ah..'
OOC: forgive the pile of ew. I'm exhausted, stealing wi fi but really wanted to get some posts up as i'm having withdrawal symptoms lol. Plus I really love Killdare <3 so forgive me if it doesn't make a great deal of sense o_o my brain is mush, my body is one large sore. Haha.
Green eyes find that the golden femme had indeed continued investigation. (gah idk what color eyes I’ve used for him before but I intend green, green forever more *facepalm*) They are but a small search party, but an efficient one he thinks. As they move ever deeper into the Chamber, the sound becomes more prominent, the thud beneath his hooves more distinct.
Though he had really no idea what it was they were looking for, or what they would even do when they found the source, Killdare was filled with an excitement nonetheless. Was it truly just a heart, somewhere deep in the Chamber? How was it still beating exactly? He had never heard the story before, so he was left to guess and assume. The blonde though, she seemed to know something. What was that she was rattling off behind him? He stops to turn and look at her, you know, really listen to what she is saying.
“So, it’s an actual heart or? What did he say exactly?” he questions after she recalls a conversation she once had with their Prince. That boy seemed to know a lot, about a lot. Killdare didn’t really have any concepts to the depth of his mind, he hadn’t really used his for much in the way of smarts. His gaze is trained on Engelsfors as she proceeds to speak, words bubbling up her throat and out her mouth. Such strange words coming from her, even in the short time they had known each other. She is looking rather taken aback as well when she finishes, nowhere to conceal her words or back track now. He was so very good at listening after all. “I agree, I want very much to be a part of it, at whatever cost. Perhaps we are becoming a part of it, in our own way.” He returns to moving forward, if slower this time, the trees growing much closer. Again they began to impede his progression, he had to be ever tactful now to carefully place his bulk against their beams.
“What purpose would that serve, a heart in the Chamber?” he speaks, though does not turn or stop to face her. He had never come this far into the wood, the air seemed suffocatingly thick, stale, and unpleasant. The ashes rose up in smoke beneath each step, spreading their tendrils into the atmosphere, their wake becoming like a fog. It was becoming increasingly difficult to see, the lack of light having done little for the regrowth of this particular area.
There are some strange things in Beqanna, on this I have decided. there are those adorned with wings, sprouting from their backs like angel's have spun little tales into their mechanical makeup. There are those with ever-changing eyes, ever-changing appearances. first glance and they are a horse, four legged just like me. Then they change in a blink of an eye into a beast, a animal with ferocious teeth and dripping jowls. This unnerves me ever so slight. It is the unknown, something I cannot grasp solidly into my hands (well, hooves.) So when the whole romantic setting of a heart beating beneath my feet came around, I can quite believe it. Such whimsical tales you only hear about by old sages keeping quiet the little ones whilst their strapping fathers and dear mothers leave them behind.
My ash tipped ears turn, catching the steady rhythm. louder, faster, as though the chamber itself is unnerved by our presence, by us trying to uncover the buried secrets that lie dormant, earthed beneath the sentinels above. Golden limbs sashay, picking the route gentle behind Killdare -- he is after all the one of tooth and hoof, a sinewy beast with war torn scars and tales knotted in his bones. I watch him steadily then. Still, the beatings beneath a steady, hypnosis. I wonder things, I wonder many, many things. But I follow him on our intrepid journey, through the darker reaches of the pines, where the slither of moonlight fails to lighten a path.
'Atrox. That was the name.' my voice is barely a whisper, as if anything louder might deter whatever magic, whatever threads are being bound to us right now. As if my voice could frighten the little butterflies of darkness that settle and intertwine itself with my body. I jog a little to catch up, noticing Killdare had gotten deeper into the darker woodland. Azure orbs follow the darkness, trying to make out the things, the scars on the bark that weave many a tale, the ash still clinging upon the air, the earth. 'A man of greatness, apparently. The Chamber took his heart and it sits beneath us, beating alongside his living body...' I recall Erebor's words. Rapt I was, listening to tales of magic and a love that was not truly a love. I have cruel little visions passing my mind. Bloody affairs of the Chamber literally binding him to the grounds, piercing his chest and stealing his heart with the very knife like boughs that protected the innards of the Chamber. A delicious shiver ran down every notch of my spine and came to my tail with a gentle flick, gliding over my hocks.
'I wonder...' my tone is wistful, imaginary almost. Eyes drawing lines through the darkness, managing to come up beside the bay steed, a towering frame above him, but not as intimidating. I cast him a long, studious gaze, watching for any inclining of knowing, any brief show of emotion. I was feeling as though the Chamber was knitting us together, bound between the dirt, the trees. The pine fragrance becoming one of blood and dust, of worn muscle and tired bone. 'I wonder is it is only after hearts..' or souls, or minds, or every part of you that made you, you. I wonder now if the chamber was far more sinister than I had first thought. The magic slowly dispersing into the night to reveal a colder, darker mission. Either way, it brightened my eyes with a curiosity, a sense of purpose as we explored deeper, darker into the depths. I wonder if we could find the source, the rigid beating that grew quicker, heavier with every step into the bowls of the Chamber.
06-29-2015, 10:58 AM (This post was last modified: 06-29-2015, 11:01 AM by Killdare.)
kingdom meeting is the perfect way to tie these two posts together. hope you dont mind?
your post was not terrible! -shakes finger-
The darkness is all consuming, the lights having dimmed to nothingness around them. They seemed to be devoured this far into the wood, and he wonders what could be out here. The ash is a thick fog burning his eyes, though he preservers. It too threatens to hinder his breathing, creeping in his nares most unwelcome, he grits his teeth to bare it. Others might be frightened, he too should probably consider being so, but he is not. He had been numbed to such things, there was little that chilled him to the bone anymore. He learns a little more now, as they make their way between the shadows, he can just discern Engels footsteps over his own heavy plodding. Her voice but a whisper, creeps through the night to enlighten him. Atrox. The name is unfamiliar though most here was, it held no meaning to him. Should it?
His barrel brushes along the timbers, what charcoal did not adorn his pelt, added its soot to the smoke that crept up around his pillars. The sounds grew ever louder, the rhythm a steady continued thump thump thump. The closer they neared, the more he could scarce discern the beatings from his own heart, though he was sure it was safely encased in his breast. “Alongside his living body?” he asked just to be sure. How was that possibly without magic, if the Chamber truly possessed none? How was it everything around him had turned into a question, a riddle, to make his head throb trying to connect the dots? After hearts she asks? He had hoped not, he was rather fond of his own, it being a pretty important part of keeping him alive. Though if what Engel had just divulged were true, perhaps a heart was not needed to survive. Though that did not mean he would like to volunteer either. He did not desire to toy with the Chamber, simply to know it, like it seemed to know him. Give his heart? Perhaps someday, but this is not that day.
Was it coincidence now? Now that his thoughts had turned to what things he might give to the Chamber that steadily, the darkness began to recede? Plodding through the pines, eyes clearing, his breathing becoming much easier. The ashen fog becoming less opaque and more transparent as he continued to push forward, making his way to the heartbeat. Sooner, rather than later, the trees became less suffocating. Spreading further and further apart. He could see ahead now, and what green eyes beheld was much to his surprise as any. The painted silhouette of his Queen stood near a blackened and burned tree. It was a rather prominent piece of bark, compared to the rest it seemed much more significant. The beating had grown stronger beneath his feet, and he cocked his head, part amused. There she stood aside it, waiting, expecting. Had she called them? He wasn’t sure, but he snaked his head around to Engel, “Head down.” He said quietly, before lowering his own dial to a respectful height. He didn’t particularly care to be caught off guard, not that he had thought he had been doing wrong.
