It was granted to him to take peace from the earth... ROUND III

[elve]

it's strange what desire will make foolish people do.

She stays away from everyone else; when they gather, she is at the back, to the side, head down and trying to keep herself invisible. She embraced him - the others rejected him; the poor filly is unlikely to be highly regarded now.
When she touched the shard, watched over by the giant bird (as if she would be brave enough to change her mind now), her breathing eased, her head cleared. Her lungs still catch, her eyes still water, but she is alive.
She almost wishes she weren’t.

A scream rings out, Conquest - she can see him, and he is so angry, and she cowers. The land flickers as she does - grey to green and back again. One flicker takes away three of the other horses that had been dragged here; she wonders when she will be taken away too. She does not consider what has happened to those horses - she just wants to be free of this place. She is small and scared and so helpless.
He would be so disappointed (he is already disappointed in her).
The first version of her, that brave and stubborn hours-old filly, she would be disappointed too, to see that this is how she turns out.

She isn’t paying attention when the second explosion wrenches the air apart; she is too concerned with the fighting. But she knows, instinctively, that she must do as she did before - find a part of the seal, that delicately-etched stone, and protect it.
There is no doubt which side she is on. She is unknown to the others, and she has already proven a coward. They will all be against her.
She acts quickly.

Fear poisons her blood, and her breathing is still not as easy as it was before Conquest touched her, but she is driven (nothing motivates like terror). She sees - thinks she sees - a piece lying only a little way beyond; but it is guarded. Green-and-red-and-invisible, she pauses, desperate for another option. But there is none. She moves, fast, knowing that she will have to plead her case, and knowing that she is not ready to do so. Taking one deep breath, and then another, and putting off a third as she is only delaying the inevitable, she moves towards the snake that encircles a tree, its body thicker than her own, its head lying next to her goal, its mouth open and teeth dripping.
But it is not the snake that freezes her body, that tucks her into herself. No, War stands next to the gaping head, awaiting her.
She is invisible again, but certain that he can see her every movement.

She approaches, but before she has the chance to speak, to beg (no longer above begging, another disappointment to add), he lunges for her. She is weak, unused to combat, and his teeth sink into her neck. She cries out, and then the snake joins the attack. Together, they draw so much blood that she is red-and-red; she sobs, collapsing to the ground. “Please,” she chokes, barely a whisper. “Please,” she coughs through a throat full of warm, sticky blood. “Please,” she begs.
“I want to help you,” her voice little more than a hoarse mumble. “Please don’t do this.”
He looks at her, and she sees disgust in his eyes - or are they Pollock’s eyes? She shakes, her whole body filled with pain, and War steps over her, the snake slithers away, and she is alone with the shard and a blurry sense of failure.

It takes her a few moments to realise the piece of Seal is now hers. She struggles to her feet (she falls, several times) and places one hoof on the stone, blood slipping down her legs and into the earth beneath her. She shakes, every breath an effort, every movement sending jagged spikes of pain through her tiny body.
But she has done her duty.

ELVE

Elve is basically half dead now, but she's standing on her part of the Seal. Do whatever you want with her, if you so choose; she is covered in bites and blood and still can't control her invisibility properly so will be flicking in and out of view.