10-29-2019, 07:19 PM
<center><img src="https://i.postimg.cc/WzwTjqg2/thiamaniphtml2.png"><table bgcolor=571537 style="border-color: black; border-width: 0px; border-style: solid; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: -95px" cellspacing=30 cellpadding=30 width=650><tr><td><p align=justify><font face=times new roman color=873142><font style=font-size:9pt;line-height:12pt;letter-spacing:1px><font style=letter-spacing:3px><center><Font color=c77e63><i>did the full moon force my hand?</i></font></font> </center><p align=justify>
Thia watches, silently. She doesn’t recognize the others who have been drawn here, nor does the spectral figure bear any resemblance. Instead, she stands quietly - her black eyes wide and wary and her curled ears flickering in every which direction - betraying the sense of apprehension that burns brightly in her gut.
However as the strange, ghostly mare speaks, the sense of grief and loss seems to boil over. Her gaze falls to the ground at her feet. Grief had been the defining emotion of her experience in Beqanna. Grief had left her empty, broken. And she still didn’t know what she was supposed to fill this void that her mother’s absence had left. Perhaps that was why she had come. She supposed there were many reasons she had heard the call - allow herself to be called to this place.
However, her heartbeat quickens as the mare continues. Her eyes widen and her curled ears snap forward. The opportunity to see her mother again - surely that was worth <i>any</i> risk. She’d pay any price - just for a few moments. Just for the opportunity to see her again. To know she found peace on the other side. The remainder of what the spectral mare says hardly registers - Thia’s dark gaze has already locked upon the tear between worlds - the rift that holds the potential of returning her to her mother.
It’s disorienting - stepping through the veil.
It was obvious from the moment she stepped through the rift that she was somewhere <i>else</i>. However, this place did not feel unfamiliar to her.
That, in itself, was unsettling. This was the afterlife - shouldn’t everything about this place be unfamiliar?
But the sights - the sounds - the smells...they were all things she recognized. And it wasn’t until she saw the marble structure tucked along the sea-cliffs that she understood. This was <i>home</i>. Or, at the very least, the place that had been her home until the mountain she now stood upon had erupted and wiped her homeland from this earth.
Her mother had been gone before that fateful day - so this would have been how she remembered it. Beautiful. Pristine. Untouched. Thia quickly made her way down the side of the mountain - gliding when her feet slipped out from beneath her. The sound of the waves crashing against the stone grew louder as she grew nearer to the temple. She wasn’t aware of how long the journey took - but she found herself staring into the entrance of her mother’s temple - the Oracle’s temple. Torchlight flickered from within - indicating to her that someone was inside. She stepped cautiously inside, folding her wings tightly against her sides. <b> “Mother?”</b> she called out, hesitantly. For a heartbeat she wondered if she was being foolish in calling out with the expectation that there’d come an answer. But the doubt evaporates when she hears a voice. A voice so familiar it’s imprinted so deep in her heart and her mind that she’d never mistake it for anyone else. Mother.
<i>“Oh darling,” </i>the woman, breathed, stepping from the shadows to embrace her daughter. Thia stood in shock, saying nothing but allowing tears to overflow and slip down her cheeks. The pale mare isn’t sure if she truly can feel her mother’s touch, or if it is just an illusion, but either way she feels more complete than she has since her mother’s body sank beneath the sea.
<i>“I’m so proud of you,”</i> the woman breathed again, which caused Thia to dip her head under the sheer weight of her grief and shame.
<b> “I don’t know what happened, mother, I was able to free myself but the others…”</b> Thia had left them behind. Wings were an uncommon gift on her homeland - only found in royal blood. Which made sense considering that her father descended directly from the ancient kings. And it was her wings which carried her across the sea to safety.
But her mother speaks again - in that same calm, reassuring voice she remembered so vividly. <i> “It was not your duty to save the others, my love, only yourself. The island’s days were numbered from the very beginning, when society sprang up on the banks of such a volatile mountain. But you were never a creature of the island, dear one, you were a creature of the sky meant to travel far away.</i> Thia swallowed thickly, for she had never for a moment considered looking to ensure the safety of others as she’d fled. Survival had been her only objective. Her mother had been <i>everything</i>, and had been taken from her before the land came alive beneath their feet. She had been kept in bondage - wings chained, doors barred - from the moment her mother met her end. There was nothing for her to save as she leapt from the cliffs - or so she had thought at the time.
<b> “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I couldn’t free you.”</b> Thia murmured, the tears still spilling freely. It had been her biggest regret - that she hadn’t done something before her father’s anger had taken everything from her. He was an angry, impulsive man. When her mother no longer produced prophecies to his liking - her mother had become disposable. Especially since Thia - born of the Oracle and the King - had grown to an age where she could take her mother’s place.
<i>”I knew my fate long before it came to pass,”</I> her mother said. They were so much alike - Thia and the once-Oracle. Both creamy white, both branded with a crescent, but Thia alone possessed the wings that had carried her to freedom. However the news that her mother had foreseen her own death was a surprise to Thia.
<b> “Why didn’t you tell me?”</b> Thia asked, the surprise and sorrow evident in her voice.
<i>"It was my burden to bear, not yours. And I knew that my death would set in motion your path to freedom. I refused to stand in the way of your future. For I’ve seen that too and it is so bright, Daughter,"</I> there is so much emotion in the woman’s voice - so many that Thia isn’t certain she could decipher all of them.
<b> “I don’t know what to do, Mother. Not here. Not back in Beqanna. I’ve been so lost,”</b> Thia mutters, ashamed to admit this to her mother. <b> “But I can’t stay here, can I?”</b> Thia asks, knowing in her heart the answer to her question.
<i> “No, darling one. It is not your time,”</i> her mother replies, offering her only child a soft smile but knowing that her daughter may draw little comfort from the gesture.
<center><font style=letter-spacing:3px><Font color=c77e63><i> thia.</i></font></font></table>
<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/littlewillow-art/">manip by littlewillow-art</a></center></center>
Thia watches, silently. She doesn’t recognize the others who have been drawn here, nor does the spectral figure bear any resemblance. Instead, she stands quietly - her black eyes wide and wary and her curled ears flickering in every which direction - betraying the sense of apprehension that burns brightly in her gut.
However as the strange, ghostly mare speaks, the sense of grief and loss seems to boil over. Her gaze falls to the ground at her feet. Grief had been the defining emotion of her experience in Beqanna. Grief had left her empty, broken. And she still didn’t know what she was supposed to fill this void that her mother’s absence had left. Perhaps that was why she had come. She supposed there were many reasons she had heard the call - allow herself to be called to this place.
However, her heartbeat quickens as the mare continues. Her eyes widen and her curled ears snap forward. The opportunity to see her mother again - surely that was worth <i>any</i> risk. She’d pay any price - just for a few moments. Just for the opportunity to see her again. To know she found peace on the other side. The remainder of what the spectral mare says hardly registers - Thia’s dark gaze has already locked upon the tear between worlds - the rift that holds the potential of returning her to her mother.
It’s disorienting - stepping through the veil.
It was obvious from the moment she stepped through the rift that she was somewhere <i>else</i>. However, this place did not feel unfamiliar to her.
That, in itself, was unsettling. This was the afterlife - shouldn’t everything about this place be unfamiliar?
But the sights - the sounds - the smells...they were all things she recognized. And it wasn’t until she saw the marble structure tucked along the sea-cliffs that she understood. This was <i>home</i>. Or, at the very least, the place that had been her home until the mountain she now stood upon had erupted and wiped her homeland from this earth.
Her mother had been gone before that fateful day - so this would have been how she remembered it. Beautiful. Pristine. Untouched. Thia quickly made her way down the side of the mountain - gliding when her feet slipped out from beneath her. The sound of the waves crashing against the stone grew louder as she grew nearer to the temple. She wasn’t aware of how long the journey took - but she found herself staring into the entrance of her mother’s temple - the Oracle’s temple. Torchlight flickered from within - indicating to her that someone was inside. She stepped cautiously inside, folding her wings tightly against her sides. <b> “Mother?”</b> she called out, hesitantly. For a heartbeat she wondered if she was being foolish in calling out with the expectation that there’d come an answer. But the doubt evaporates when she hears a voice. A voice so familiar it’s imprinted so deep in her heart and her mind that she’d never mistake it for anyone else. Mother.
<i>“Oh darling,” </i>the woman, breathed, stepping from the shadows to embrace her daughter. Thia stood in shock, saying nothing but allowing tears to overflow and slip down her cheeks. The pale mare isn’t sure if she truly can feel her mother’s touch, or if it is just an illusion, but either way she feels more complete than she has since her mother’s body sank beneath the sea.
<i>“I’m so proud of you,”</i> the woman breathed again, which caused Thia to dip her head under the sheer weight of her grief and shame.
<b> “I don’t know what happened, mother, I was able to free myself but the others…”</b> Thia had left them behind. Wings were an uncommon gift on her homeland - only found in royal blood. Which made sense considering that her father descended directly from the ancient kings. And it was her wings which carried her across the sea to safety.
But her mother speaks again - in that same calm, reassuring voice she remembered so vividly. <i> “It was not your duty to save the others, my love, only yourself. The island’s days were numbered from the very beginning, when society sprang up on the banks of such a volatile mountain. But you were never a creature of the island, dear one, you were a creature of the sky meant to travel far away.</i> Thia swallowed thickly, for she had never for a moment considered looking to ensure the safety of others as she’d fled. Survival had been her only objective. Her mother had been <i>everything</i>, and had been taken from her before the land came alive beneath their feet. She had been kept in bondage - wings chained, doors barred - from the moment her mother met her end. There was nothing for her to save as she leapt from the cliffs - or so she had thought at the time.
<b> “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry I couldn’t free you.”</b> Thia murmured, the tears still spilling freely. It had been her biggest regret - that she hadn’t done something before her father’s anger had taken everything from her. He was an angry, impulsive man. When her mother no longer produced prophecies to his liking - her mother had become disposable. Especially since Thia - born of the Oracle and the King - had grown to an age where she could take her mother’s place.
<i>”I knew my fate long before it came to pass,”</I> her mother said. They were so much alike - Thia and the once-Oracle. Both creamy white, both branded with a crescent, but Thia alone possessed the wings that had carried her to freedom. However the news that her mother had foreseen her own death was a surprise to Thia.
<b> “Why didn’t you tell me?”</b> Thia asked, the surprise and sorrow evident in her voice.
<i>"It was my burden to bear, not yours. And I knew that my death would set in motion your path to freedom. I refused to stand in the way of your future. For I’ve seen that too and it is so bright, Daughter,"</I> there is so much emotion in the woman’s voice - so many that Thia isn’t certain she could decipher all of them.
<b> “I don’t know what to do, Mother. Not here. Not back in Beqanna. I’ve been so lost,”</b> Thia mutters, ashamed to admit this to her mother. <b> “But I can’t stay here, can I?”</b> Thia asks, knowing in her heart the answer to her question.
<i> “No, darling one. It is not your time,”</i> her mother replies, offering her only child a soft smile but knowing that her daughter may draw little comfort from the gesture.
<center><font style=letter-spacing:3px><Font color=c77e63><i> thia.</i></font></font></table>
<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/littlewillow-art/">manip by littlewillow-art</a></center></center>