06-01-2018, 08:00 AM
Belgaer
Spring had given way to Summer, almost quietly and without much notice. The beginning of the year had been a quiet one, thick with new life and anticipation. There had been a quiet throughout Beqanna and while others relished in the moment of reprieve, Belgaer knew that it would not last. There was a dark force boiling just beneath the surface of their peace. Roiling hungrily, he feared the power that it possessed, but trusted that they were stronger in number.
Flying over the land he patrolled as he always did, his eyes scanning the earth below. He never knew what he was searching for and it never ceased to surprise him the things he managed to stumble upon. He found Pond on one such occasion. Stranded and alone he had succeeded in helping her, even if he hadn’t been able to give her the one true thing she had wanted. Ischia had welcomed her and Belgaer felt a certain responsibility for her. Although he had no true children of his own he imagined that the feelings he harbored towards her were similar to the ones his father felt when he was around any of his children.
Nearing the river, Bel followed the sound of the rushing water until he flew directly overhead. The crystalline blue of it’s water appeared almost refreshing in the heat of the summer day. Despites it’s more tropical climate, he missed the coolness of the coolness of Ischia’s shade. The ocean’s breeze was refreshing and offered a little reprieve from the, other wise intense, heat.
Soon he would be having to return. Brennen had grown unusually restless over the course of the past couple of days. There was much on his mind of late and, as a result, Belgaer did his best to relieve whatever pressure he could. Astarael’s disappearance, followed by Mosrael’s sudden upheaval had burdened him and the ever-loyal son felt the weight of his father’s worry. Not to mention Jesper. Sylva’s current Ischian prisoner.
There was very little that they knew about the new Sylva. The new King, Modicum Mortem, appeared to be of very dark origins and it was clear that he had no interest in forming an alliance with their Island. Peoples. Yet, it continued to grow with it’s numbers rising to new heights. It was cause enough to concern many of the other kingdoms that Ischia had become friendly with. Even more so, however, it had led Brennen to believe that Astarael might have even been captured by means of holding her hostage for a later gain. She was his daughter and thus a valuable bargaining tool. The very thought sent shivers down Belgaer’s spine. It was bad enough that Jesper had gone willingly into the lion’s den, he could not even imagine the torment that stallion would be going through.
Distracted though he was movement to his left caught his attention. A dark figure followed along the shoreline of the river, moving almost as though it pained him to be so near to the water’s edge. Leaning closer Belgaer noticed that there was something familiar about the black and bronzed figure. Stunned into disbelief the name presented itself to the chestnut almost immediately.
Peeling off towards his left he glided elegantly downward, his wings tucked nearly flat against his body as his legs prepared to land. In one skilled motion his hooves touched down, almost perfectly quiet in comparison to the deafening roar of the river’s current. Bounding into a gallop he rushed towards the freed captive.
“Jesper!” he called out unsure of what else he could say in that moment of relief.
Flying over the land he patrolled as he always did, his eyes scanning the earth below. He never knew what he was searching for and it never ceased to surprise him the things he managed to stumble upon. He found Pond on one such occasion. Stranded and alone he had succeeded in helping her, even if he hadn’t been able to give her the one true thing she had wanted. Ischia had welcomed her and Belgaer felt a certain responsibility for her. Although he had no true children of his own he imagined that the feelings he harbored towards her were similar to the ones his father felt when he was around any of his children.
Nearing the river, Bel followed the sound of the rushing water until he flew directly overhead. The crystalline blue of it’s water appeared almost refreshing in the heat of the summer day. Despites it’s more tropical climate, he missed the coolness of the coolness of Ischia’s shade. The ocean’s breeze was refreshing and offered a little reprieve from the, other wise intense, heat.
Soon he would be having to return. Brennen had grown unusually restless over the course of the past couple of days. There was much on his mind of late and, as a result, Belgaer did his best to relieve whatever pressure he could. Astarael’s disappearance, followed by Mosrael’s sudden upheaval had burdened him and the ever-loyal son felt the weight of his father’s worry. Not to mention Jesper. Sylva’s current Ischian prisoner.
There was very little that they knew about the new Sylva. The new King, Modicum Mortem, appeared to be of very dark origins and it was clear that he had no interest in forming an alliance with their Island. Peoples. Yet, it continued to grow with it’s numbers rising to new heights. It was cause enough to concern many of the other kingdoms that Ischia had become friendly with. Even more so, however, it had led Brennen to believe that Astarael might have even been captured by means of holding her hostage for a later gain. She was his daughter and thus a valuable bargaining tool. The very thought sent shivers down Belgaer’s spine. It was bad enough that Jesper had gone willingly into the lion’s den, he could not even imagine the torment that stallion would be going through.
Distracted though he was movement to his left caught his attention. A dark figure followed along the shoreline of the river, moving almost as though it pained him to be so near to the water’s edge. Leaning closer Belgaer noticed that there was something familiar about the black and bronzed figure. Stunned into disbelief the name presented itself to the chestnut almost immediately.
Peeling off towards his left he glided elegantly downward, his wings tucked nearly flat against his body as his legs prepared to land. In one skilled motion his hooves touched down, almost perfectly quiet in comparison to the deafening roar of the river’s current. Bounding into a gallop he rushed towards the freed captive.
“Jesper!” he called out unsure of what else he could say in that moment of relief.
The Prodigal Son
@[Jesper]