08-22-2021, 11:29 AM
And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love
Two years ago Eyas had left Islandres for Icicle Isle and never looked back.
It’d been strange at first, trading brilliant sunsets and black-sand beaches for below-freezing temperatures, but leaving Gale behind had been the most bitter ending to her brief period of happiness there. She never regretted it though.
Eyas still remembered leaving that very night, the same day she’d wished her brother five years curse-free instead of two. Santana had helped her take their daughter north and Brash had followed, so together her family had transported their lives because of Eyas’ inability to leave little Ehko behind.
Ehko.
One of her twins who’d been made with Santana’s help. A little filly, only a year old when she’d been attacked on the shores of their Island home and left for dead. Dead she might’ve been, too, if it wasn’t for magic.
Now two years later the little one was encased by a large sphere of translucent ice, stuck fast in the snowdrifts far to the west of Icicle Isle where her mother liked to stand guard. Day by day, week by week, month after month Eyas had watched what’d first been a thick covering of ice crystals transform themselves into a massive, magnificent sculpture. At the epicenter (where she couldn’t quite see her anymore) was Ehko.
It was obvious to Eyas that some sort of magical response had been triggered by her daughter’s near-death experience. This was Beqanna, after all. Nearly anything and everything was possible. The little buckskin mare just wasn’t quite sure what was going on with the massive sphere of ice. Was it a good thing that her dying foal had this happen to her? Or was it a bad thing? For all she knew it could’ve been a spell. Maybe her daughter’s “ice sphere” captivity needed a fire-wielder in order to be broken.
Or maybe it was a cocoon. Perhaps her daughter came out … differently.
Maybe she never came out at all.
All Eyas knew was that there was hope, and where there was hope there was reason for her stay and keep watch over the thing while it grew. So two years later here she was, entrenched in her usual self-isolation on a remote isle to the North, watching the night sky light up with phantom ribbons of colors while she kept watch over the giant ice sphere behind her. On nights like these when the sky was clear and the heavens made gateways of galaxies far beyond their own, Eyas liked to sing to her daughter.
She crooned softly, more-or-less in harmony with the gently howling winds of old man winter:
Don’t be afraid
when the night wolves cry.
Feast on their bones,
suck the marrow dry.
Their teeth may be sharp
and their sins may be dark,
but your heart holds a power unknown.
It’d been strange at first, trading brilliant sunsets and black-sand beaches for below-freezing temperatures, but leaving Gale behind had been the most bitter ending to her brief period of happiness there. She never regretted it though.
Eyas still remembered leaving that very night, the same day she’d wished her brother five years curse-free instead of two. Santana had helped her take their daughter north and Brash had followed, so together her family had transported their lives because of Eyas’ inability to leave little Ehko behind.
Ehko.
One of her twins who’d been made with Santana’s help. A little filly, only a year old when she’d been attacked on the shores of their Island home and left for dead. Dead she might’ve been, too, if it wasn’t for magic.
Now two years later the little one was encased by a large sphere of translucent ice, stuck fast in the snowdrifts far to the west of Icicle Isle where her mother liked to stand guard. Day by day, week by week, month after month Eyas had watched what’d first been a thick covering of ice crystals transform themselves into a massive, magnificent sculpture. At the epicenter (where she couldn’t quite see her anymore) was Ehko.
It was obvious to Eyas that some sort of magical response had been triggered by her daughter’s near-death experience. This was Beqanna, after all. Nearly anything and everything was possible. The little buckskin mare just wasn’t quite sure what was going on with the massive sphere of ice. Was it a good thing that her dying foal had this happen to her? Or was it a bad thing? For all she knew it could’ve been a spell. Maybe her daughter’s “ice sphere” captivity needed a fire-wielder in order to be broken.
Or maybe it was a cocoon. Perhaps her daughter came out … differently.
Maybe she never came out at all.
All Eyas knew was that there was hope, and where there was hope there was reason for her stay and keep watch over the thing while it grew. So two years later here she was, entrenched in her usual self-isolation on a remote isle to the North, watching the night sky light up with phantom ribbons of colors while she kept watch over the giant ice sphere behind her. On nights like these when the sky was clear and the heavens made gateways of galaxies far beyond their own, Eyas liked to sing to her daughter.
She crooned softly, more-or-less in harmony with the gently howling winds of old man winter:
Don’t be afraid
when the night wolves cry.
Feast on their bones,
suck the marrow dry.
Their teeth may be sharp
and their sins may be dark,
but your heart holds a power unknown.
Grey clouds roll over the hills, bringing darkness from above
-OOC: this is a plot-purposes thread with myself. Yay.
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