Dawn's Cold Light

Take your Serians here to chat or just roam their homeland.

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Posting Elemental
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Post Sat Sep 12, 2015 11:46 pm

Re: Dawn's Cold Light

She had wondered at one point just how deep her new friendship with Astarte truly ran. She could feel the bonds with other friends, something so tangible as to nearly compare to what she shared with her bondmates; now she was wondering how she could have ever been uncertain if this older filly would grow to be as close to her. A simple glance and she wanted to rush right off and continue their last adventure.

AuraSidra followed along willingly enough, a massive grin splayed over her face. Finally, proper company! And besides, she had no true objection to attempting to find calmer water; she wouldn't have said as much herself, half curious on rather or not she would be able to handle such a challenge as learning in the tumultuous seas she'd been charging at, but she knew a trickle of fear. Something about the sea made her uncomfortable. Just thinking as much made the feathers of her wings quiver, delicate and faint. While strong enough to support her fumbling efforts to fly, a strong enough current would damage them.

That was it, that was what disturbed her. She gave a quiet snort and tucked it into a corner of her mind; if they were damaged, she would simply have to rest and walk for a while. It would be much less fun, but surely somebody could help to heal her in time.

Trepidation dealt with, she bounded forward and began chattering at Astarte's shoulder as she caught up.

It's so good to see you! What new hoosiwhatsits have you made? Did you come out here just to see what there was, too? I practiced a lot with everything, and I can get the growlbears to let me go on some treasure hunts now so long as we stay near to Momma's lands. Do you think we'll find treasure in the cove? Maybe there could be a new whosiwhatsit for you hidden in the sand under the water! It'll be easier to see with the waters calmer, I think, because a wanderer I know told me about whole storms that happen underwater until it's impossible to see a thing at all.

But she was forgetting herself; or more accurately, her manners. It took a deep breath and a small prance of youthful exuberance, but she did manage to bring herself back into a semblance of control.

I'd love any stories you have to share, she smiled, perking her ears welcomingly, You told me of so many new things the last time we crossed paths. I hope the gem helped you too, in the special-place where you bring things back to what they were. It was called a... A tower, wasn't that the word?


I keep to mine, that's all.

Interesting; a warning, clearly, although he couldn't fathom what sort. Either the mare meant she was only here for the sake of her own squirt - which was fair, it was how he got roped in himself, after all - or that this wasn't to be a dual venture in guardianship. The notion shouldn't disturb him, although it was still odd after so much time with all his noble bondmates. Everything was a dual venture for that lot; any one would risk their own neck to help someone that was close to those they loved. The general notion, if he wasn't mistaken, was that if this creature was important to the one they loved, then for the sake of the one they loved they would protect that creature as well.

Thorn was silent for a time as he contemplated this, quite frankly testing rather or not the potential meaning did indeed upset him. Would he try to keep the little pretty safe for the sake of the little princess? That he couldn't tell disturbed him more than the possibility of doing exactly that.

The squirt had by no means been giving ground to him; if anything there was a clear note of disdain in everything she said and did. But was that enough to leave Hellion and Astarte to their own devices; why leave them hanging just for the sake of making AuraSidra panic? If an extra body could be used, then he would most likely rise to the challenge.

It did make his skin itch to admit as much, even if just to himself. He wasn't exactly a kindly sort. Regardless, if the mare meant that she would leave them to their own devices, it weighed not an ounce on what his decision would be. And he had a feeling that should it come to that, Astarte might have a word or two to give on the topic; she had lit right up with joy, after all. It seemed they were important to each other.

Protect what you want, he shrugged, keeping one ear tilted towards the two youths as they came upon the cove's inland peak, it's no matter to me. I didn't offer to come; it sounds like you did. Soft hearts always give up a part of themselves for the sake of another.

The only real difference was that he had no parts left to give up.
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Post Mon Sep 14, 2015 10:26 pm

Re: Dawn's Cold Light

For a while, Astarte had forgotten about her stuttering magic, and it was a bit surprising when it all came back how deeply she felt the wound. But AuraSidra seemed to nurse some threads of doubt of her own, behind her playful countenance. The slight quiver at her wings, when she looked at the sea. Astarte could understand--she didn’t think those of the Sacred Sea oft mingled with those in the sky. But none of the sisters had bonded to the water altar, so she couldn’t be sure. She knew only that Amma showed no strong inclination or disinclination to the ocean, but much preferred the desert. Yet Avi had grown up by the shore, and though that lonely home was far, far away, he still spoke of it to her, with some sort of wistfulness in his eyes.

She could feel a lick of that longing stir inside her chest, as her friend’s questions whizzed by. If only she’d been fully recovered, by the time their paths crossed again. If only she had something to share with her, the skeleton of the great project seething in the back of her mind. If only she could be more useful to their adventure, with her hands at the ready to pluck and pull. But it would take time, Sive had said, and Astarte had always known enough to not try the boundaries of her young body. She hoped AuraSidra would not feel sorry for her.

“Yes, Sive’s tower.” She missed her little workshop, fitted snugly into the lower levels by the stairs to the store-rooms. There the mirror lay on the floor, waiting, among the gilt and scattered pieces, while AuraSidra’s pretty gift lent a soft glow to the dark corners. “It has, I can always use light, as I have little skill in seeing in the dark.”

They were coming round a bend in the inlet, and far down the stretch Astarte could make the glimmer of still water, lightly wreathed with the last of the dawn’s mist. Perhaps a pool? Maybe with treasures beneath the sand, as her young friend mentioned, treasures that were of little use now.

“I haven’t made anything, not lately.” She tried to keep her tone light. “I drained my magic, and it’ll be some time before I can use my spells again. I can’t work without my hands, not on the thing I want to do, so, I guess, it’s been a little tough.”

Another sudden sea gust, colder this time, for some reason. Maybe it was that Elemental’s magic, gone loose, but she doubted they were near. “I came out her following my dayi Id, he was going to spar with Confetti. I guess khala followed me, to make sure I didn’t get hurt. I lost them over the river though, and ended up here. But it seems it turned out for the best.”

Yes, better to be with a friend, magic or no. “How is everything with you? Are your parents well, and Darroch too?” She paused, catching on an odd niggling thought. “What’s a growlbear?”

It eased the ache, to learn things, to pile on new information and bury the offending flaw. Astarte figured it would make her better company, too. Brooders were hard to be around.


The stallion was silent, which suited Hellion fine--less to distract her. She was used to being alone, to being aware of her own surroundings, but here she had to divide herself. One eye on Astarte, one to the changes in the air. It had never been easy for her to begin with, but her mistress’ relentless trials had made her a decent hand. A fool’s errand, to be challenging herself like this.

But the girl seemed, easier, now. Hellion caught shreds of their conversation, a rhythm oddly familiar. Had she and Mist been like this? No, never as effortless. Mist filled all the silences now, bursting and blooming with words and song and news. Different from their first walks, where Hellion would pry the words out, push and bully the mare to know, to remember, to relearn. There was nothing so heavy between the fillies, but just seeing them walk together did funny things to her head. Put her back in places she didn’t belong.

They were walking down the calmer stretch of sea now, edged by a sheer scrape of cliffside. The waves were smoother, less agitated by the whims of the wind, but still murky. Anything could be down there--hells, Thorn was speaking to her.

At least he seemed to get the message well enough, but she didn’t care for his assumptions. Maybe once upon a time, when her anger had been young and sharp, she would’ve raged against the implications until she’d burned herself out. Too many times she’d skulked away after Web’s verbal trouncings, and only now she realized, grudgingly, that the older mare had been teaching her. Horribly done, but done nonetheless. Words could be battlegrounds as well, and not ones she wished to engage in.

“Hardly,” she replied, and left it at that. She hadn’t meant to be here, and there was little softness in her to give, if any. Regardless, it mattered little what the stallion thought he knew of her. They’d likely never see each other again, after this, and seemed to be mutually inclined to stay out of each other’s way.

She just had to see this through, nothing more.
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Posting Elemental
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Post Tue Sep 15, 2015 4:51 pm

Re: Dawn's Cold Light

She stopped so suddenly that she nearly tripped. Again. Ugh, one day these legs would fit her, surely!

How can I help?

A hundred thousand words crashed through her head as she heard of Astarte's lack of magic-making, but that was the only thing coherent enough to escape. They might not have spent a great deal of time together, but if the young filly knew anything it was how hard it was to admit to having a tough time.

In the back of her mind a germ of an idea began to tickle. Maybe she could give her friend some of her own strength? She'd seen it done before, but it was a very complicated bit of weaving and it hadn't been easy even between bondmates. But if she could just figure out the trick on how they'd done it then maybe she could alter it enough to be of some use here...

The question about a growlbear made her blink and grin, temporarily distracting her from her musings. Not that it was difficult to distract her.

Growlbears are these creatures who are sort of friends of my homerealm. They don't live there with us, but they often wind up wandering through Momma's part. They... Hmm. They're big and fuzzy and they talk with grumbling growls like the earth snoring, and they're really strong.

She grinned a bit as she thought of the creatures, absently wading into the still, shallow water as she went on.

They go searching for treasures and sweet-things and sometimes they like to find places where they can fight to keep the treasures, especially if it's a water-monster. They have big claws and long noses and small mouths and they can't decide if they walk on two legs or four and their eyes glow super-bright in any light.

Now she was rambling. Great.

Anyway, I can travel with them a little bit now. They teach me some tricks sometimes. It's helped me find new ways of thinking. Hey, what's that?

Distracted by a vibrant pink shell, she stepped a little too far and began to flounder. Without thinking she opened her wings and tried to flap to regain her balance, like she normally would while falling - except all that did was to make some rather disturbing splashes.

Part of her felt as if she was outside herself as the water churned up around her, just barely too deep for her to stand up properly. It came down to right now - would she panic? Would she pull herself together? How much control did the fear have?

She could recognize this fact, but she couldn't influence it. The water managed to reach her face as she accidentally moved forward and it was only instinct that kept her from choking on it. Snorting to clear her nose, she lifted her head as high as she could, clamped her wings tight shut, and proceeded to become quite thoroughly angry at herself.

Within seconds she was treading water, strong, regular kicks keeping her head up as her breath exploded out of her lungs with such force it made her huff and tremble.

Her wings weren't shredded - indeed, it would be a lot of practice before she could use them as an advantage under the water - and she wasn't drowning, but for the moment that was all she could handle.

Part of her wanted very much to head directly back to solid land; her eyes sparkled with fear. But a glance at Astarte and a desire to do her friend proud helped to shore up her courage, making her determined to accept the loss of having her wings as a safety net.

I think it's a shell, she said with strained perkiness, stubbornly holding on to her control, I'll get it for you, okay?

A deep, shuddering breath and she let herself sink, feeling outside of her own body once again as her heart hammered. It really was a nice tone of pink - and at least the water was clear enough for her to see vague impressions. Sinking to the bottom let her use her hooves to propel herself along the sand, enough of a relief that she managed to grip it in her teeth and push towards the surface before she lost her nerve.

Huffing, trembling and rather weak-kneed, she scrambled back to the shore and put the little treasure on the sand for inspection. It wasn't a shell after all, though it did have a beautifully delicate pattern whirling across it. It looked like some sort of massive carved gem, but there was a metal circle near one end of it - maybe it was supposed to be attached to something?

She gave Astarte a curious look; maybe there were more whoosiwhatsits out here in the far lands than back in Sionayra. Maybe some of them were dangerous, like Astarte had said about some of her projects, and that was why these far places were so bad.

All she knew was that for the moment, she had done it. The whole ordeal had lasted less than two minutes - hardly any time at all. Yet she'd managed to clamp down tight on the fear and to at least mimic swimming, if just barely. There was a lot of danger in it for such a casual practice; she had no idea how some could be so cavalier about it. Maybe she just listened to too many of Tribe's stories about the tantrums of the sea; it honestly hadn't seemed as if the puddle was trying to kill her. She'd certainly have to practice a lot more before she got anywhere close to being 'good' at it, but that wasn't something she was particularly looking forward to. She could do it; she'd faced it, so it didn't rule her. But it was far outside her comfort zone. Two minutes of effort had been struggle enough, for a moment.

Does this help? she asked her friend, squinting uncertainly at the funny gem-shell with the metal circle on the bottom. It'd definately a broken thing. Maybe if we try together, I can help fix your tired part. Sometimes when my wings get super tired the best way to keep them from locking up all together is to just sit and flap them, real slow.

It was the best option she had at the moment, at least until she figured out how to pour her own life into her friend to help juice her back up.


Thorn watched rather dispassionately as the filly floundered on the edge of panic. Part of him contemplated the single word he'd been given - Hardly. The only connection he could make was that those who were soft gave a part of themselves - if she was disputing that, then he felt her sadly mistaken. It wasn't his job to enlighten her, all the same. It wasn't his job to fix her, either; he had no interest in doing such, and moreover he had learned that simply being accepted as splintered was often much more healing than any effort at being fixed.

She didn't drown, so he didn't get to drag her back; which left not much of anything for him to do, really. Hellion, for her part, was doing a marvelous job of focusing on Astarte to the exclusion of all other things. It was, quite frankly, rather boring. He wasn't a babysitter.

The temptation of shrugging and simply walking off was very real. The only hesitation was if she did do something stupid enough to hurt herself... He didn't like being responsible. That's why he made a point not to care; nobody could be taken under his protection that way. Yet now here he was, responsible for being the judgement of her safety.

How this mare could have volunteered for such a thing was well outside his realm of understanding.

Well, there was always one other option - if nothing else would entertain him, he could entertain himself by picking on his babysitter companion.

I hope you conduct yourself as appropriate company for Madam Hellion.

Stupid little princess.

I'm not good at talking, he admitted, albeit a bit begrudgingly, yet I refuse to stand and sulk. So I find myself asking; what motivates you to want to be here?

Maybe if he could understand somebody actually having a desire to keep a squirt safe, he could quell this urge to simply... Run away.

Speaking of squirts, it looked like his little blue girl found the top ornament of a staff. Hopefully there weren't any dark magics left in it; he guessed they'd have to see.
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Post Fri Sep 18, 2015 10:39 pm

Re: Dawn's Cold Light

Astarte’s smile was small, but grateful. “I don’t think there’s any way to help it. Sive says it will come back soon, I just have to make a place ready, for when it does.”

That was the other reason, behind Avi’s training. To let her feel herself, to know the limits of her body and then push them, little by little. To be aware of when she went too far. Maybe she had thought herself a little bit invincible--but that wasn’t the word, really. It was more ignorance than pride--she’d thought she was doing such small magic.

But enough of that. She indulged in AuraSidra’s distraction, letting her stream of words wash over her. Still, they were wandering into deeper water--not so much for Astarte, who was getting to be around Hellion’s height, but the lapping waves were gradually encroaching on her small friend’s body. She wondered if the filly noticed any, biting her lip as she tread deeper still.

“Um, AuraSidra--”

“Hey, what’s that?”

Astarte’s stomach dropped in time with the filly’s fluttering panic. She was chest deep after her before she stopped herself. No, she was much bigger than the girl, and any hurried displacement of water would wash right over her friend’s head. Oh, hells, if only she had her hands, if only she could reach out and--

But AuraSidra had composed herself, somewhat. Astarte could still see the tremble of exertion, the wild roll of fear in her eyes, but she was treading now, at least. Treading and putting on a brave face, despite herself, for her sake? Part of her wanted to say it wasn’t worth it, whatever it was. She’d rather have her friend safe on shore. But then again, there was a determination there, behind the fear. AuraSidra seemed...to need this.

“Okay,” she responded, her voice thin with anxiety as the blue head slipped under the surface. Focus on keeping still, lest you shift the water towards her. Focus on your perception, sense where she is without your eyes. If she gets swept away, you will find her. You can do this, magic or not, you can--

It seemed much too long before her friend sputtered to the surface, a pink gem clenched between her teeth. Astarte trailed her back to the beach, feeling a whole lot better once AuraSidra’s trembling legs were planted on the sand. She breathed out in relief, shooting the filly a ragged smile.

“This is the second time you’ve risked yourself to find something for me,” she murmured ruefully, bending down to inspect the trinket. “It feels as if I’m bad luck for you.”

It was a rather impressive looking thing, softly swirled in aurora pink. Astarte cocked her ear toward it, listening for any whispers of intent. Nothing. But maybe her ability to ‘hear’ her projects had suffered as well? Unlikely, because then the mirror and its promise wouldn’t haunt her so. “This one seems to be sleeping. It looks like the head of a staff, or a sceptre? Something like that.”

Even after all that, AuraSidra still wanted to help. It felt a little odd, to be the focus of such genuine, selfless concern. If only that were enough. “I have been, er, flapping? But, well, watch.” Tentatively, she went over the spell in her head, saying only the base incantations. One hand, just one. Slowly, the gem lifted a few inches off the ground, visibly shuddering. Astarte winced in effort. “This is as far as I can go, for now. It’s coming back but--oh, darn!”

The gem plopped back into the sand. She sighed. “It used to be so easy.”

Halfheartedly she kicked at the sand near the gem, when--


Hellion flattened her ears as her niece charged into the surf, but made no move to follow. Good, she stopped herself--at least she had the sense not to play hero. The princess’ splashing was alarming, perhaps, but hardly anything to be concerned over. Trials were necessary for growth. AuraSidra seemed to have some awareness of that, as she slipped under the water.

What was worth note was Astarte’s willingness to go in after her. The girls were close, then. That could prove--difficult, should choices have to be made. In danger, Astarte would want her to go to the princess, probably. Maybe AuraSidra would have that same selflessness. Regardless, Hellion had made choices of her own. She could bear her niece’s hatred or despair, as long as the girl was alive to will it. Besides, AuraSidra had a guardian of her own. Thoroughly unwilling, judging by his lack of concern as the filly dragged herself to shore; unfortunate for her.

He was talking again. Why did he keep talking?

“I’m not good at talking.”

She bit back the automatic retort of ‘then don’t’. Enough on her plate without needlessly antagonizing the stallion. especially as he was on the hair trigger of leaving. She’d no intention of picking up his shirked responsibilities, should he turn tail.

“...want has little to do with duty,” she replied, eyeing the girls' salvage. There was something off-putting about that stone. “She is my blood.”

That was the simple answer, and as much as she was willing to give. Astarte was floating the thing now, and still nothing. Maybe she was being paranoid. Web had always chided her on it, but Hellion had little natural strength or skill to wander the world without caution. It had been the only way she’d survived her first years. She started towards the girls as the gem tumbled to the ground, that uneasiness building in her core as Astarte absently lifted her foreleg, kicked, and--

She knocked her niece to the side as the jewel flared and spit a lick of white lightning into the air. It missed her, just, but she could feel the heat of it cut a searing arrow over her shoulder. Astarte trembled at her side, safe. The gem shuddered once, and was still. Hellion eyed it until the adrenaline thrumming through her eased, then turned to survey the damage.

Hopefully, the princess and the stallion had been as quick on their feet.
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Posting Elemental
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Post Sun Sep 20, 2015 11:28 pm

Re: Dawn's Cold Light

What just happened?

AuraSidra blinked and sat up, shaking her head to try and fling off some of the wet sand that was sticking to her cheek. She was rather thoroughly confused; her brain was still processing the thought of making Astarte sad by trying to get her a new toy to play with. Or if not sad, at least feel guilty; she hadn't meant to make her friend think she was bad luck! If she asked any of her bondmates she'd be told within seconds that everyone knew AuraSidra to get into loads worse danger than the simple fetching of a trinket.

And besides, as a creature of the sky and sun, being under anything was going to be a vast weak point - caves, water, anything that made her trapped would rub her raw inside. She'd needed to try and master that now, before it became a full fear; like poor Path had, the beautiful Sundancer.

But why did her shoulder hurt?



Thorn was trembling just slightly, a very fine vibration running from his withers to his hock. At a glance it would be almost impossible to tell if it was from an overabundance of adrenaline coursing through him still, the sort of shock that settles in when one is quite thoroughly taken by surprise, or simple rage.

The moment the stranger had moved - for he had begun to think of her as such - he had mirrored her. She didn't waste much of anything that he could see; she scarcely moved at all while standing guard, missing the usual small fidgets that told so much to any who paid attention, and she was nothing if not succinct with her words. If she was hurrying forward it was something he would have to take note of; as close as the two fillies had stayed to each other any danger to one was a danger to the other.

Even still, he had nearly been too late. There was a nasty burn across AuraSidra's shoulder, right where the wing joint connected - the skin was simply gone, leaving an actual hole where everything had melted away. It looked to go nearly to the bone; rather it did or not, blood and something that could have been water or other bodily fluids was leaking slowly through the singed tissue.

He had almost been too late.

She had nearly died.


It took a moment to organize her thoughts again; of course it would, Thorn had grabbed her neck in his teeth and wrenched her hard enough to send her slamming into the ground. She probably had a cut just above her withers; typical. Couldn't she do anything without getting some sort of injury? At least they had followed along the lines of simple bruises lately, but it seemed her luck simply couldn't hold out.

But it hadn't been an effort to push her friendship away this time. She did remember that, some horrible bright flash and a great deal of charged heat. And Astarte - Astarte!

Are you okay? she asked, trying rather shakily to get to her feet as she tried to spot her friend somewhere under Hellion. Astarte? What happened?


Don't. Move.

The words were harsh - clipped short and brooking no argument at all. He noted this with a strange sense of being a mere observer in all that was happening. This - this was why he was the Hermit, why he kept to himself and away from others! This was too much. It wasn't okay. It wasn't.

Hellion had mentioned duty. His 'duty' now was clear and if he attended it, it would be with a great deal of begrudging reluctance. He wasn't a healer. He wasn't supposed to be put in a position to care about being a healer or not, for that matter!

How dare she do this to him!


There was warning to that command, and not the kind she would expect from a useless stallion like Thorn. It didn't carry a threat, a promise of pain for disobeying - at least not from him. Swinging her neck around showed her what he was staring at so fixedly. And that her every move made a surge of blood and fluids splurt out of her shoulder. Her wing hung limp and useless at her side and it was this, rather than the wound itself, that sent her heart lurching in panic.

No! she wailed, promptly letting her legs crumble beneath her, NO!


He was not going to comfort her. He didn't rightly know how, and he deeply resented the notion that he should do just that.

Stop bawling, he scolded, his tone still crisp, It changes nothing.

And he would not be impressed that she did exactly that, after a few sniffles. She still looked scared (devistated would have been a better word, but he absolutely wasn't going to empathize on that level), but at least she seemed in control of herself again.

Stand, if you can. Slowly!

He had to assess the damage.


Astarte? AuraSidra called, keeping her eyes locked on the ground in front of her hooves as she tried to climb to her feet without lurching, Madam Hellion, is Astarte alright? Have - D-did I hurt her?


So innocent. So tender and innocent, and how horribly that wrenched into his dried up husk of a heart. He kept his face impassive, kept his eyes on her shoulder, watching the revealed muscle twitch and tremble. If she could at least manage to stand then it should heal well enough without too much help. Maybe he could hide this. His failure.

He was even less than a mere filly; less than the beetles that scuttled through his woods.

He hated to be reminded of that. He hated even more that he kept one ear tilted towards the other two, hoping for her sake that this Hellion was more competent than he was.

He didn't want to love again. Didn't want to trust anyone; here was proof that such trust was folly, for had she not trusted him to keep her from serious harm? And yet here she was, swaying on her feet - but at least on her feet, there was relief in that. And here he was, beginning to trust his heart into her care for the simple love she showed this friend of hers. It wasn't failing his duty that haunted him at the moment, but letting her down, this small filly who trusted so easily.

He couldn't let her down. Hellion would just have to suck it up; he would have her help before he left AuraSidra crippled. To lose her wings would crush her soul.

What do you know of healing?


She thought he was talking to her still, especially as he kept glaring at her. So she answered.

Weaving, she murmured, carefully folding her legs under her again, still too scared to look for her friend. She was a nuisance to Thorn, she knew that well enough; a problem he resented, with her injury. She'd never been truly resented before and it ate at her. But it was nothing to the guilt of bringing back something that would have hurt Astarte. Knowing that items were likely more dangerous here was fine, as long as it was only her who was put in danger for the adventure.

H-healing... Healing is weaving, she continued, her voice coming steadier as she began to shake off the shock. It was hard to project her thoughts while her body was shutting down; it was certainly waking up now, though. By the Gods, she hurt all over. Her shoulder was surely on fire. But reciting the basic lesson was helping to steady her as she continued; part of her wondered if he had known it would.

It is a very int- Intim- Intimate form of weaving. One is required to breach the personal energies of a creature, to slip into them in a sense. In speaking with a creature on the level of one's energy to another's, it becomes possible to ask their body to weave the repairs. The most powerful of healers can even request a body to weave entirely new forms of flesh that may not have been there prev- previous- previously. The way of the asking is the most important part; it must be asked with love and kindness and of good-intent, for the altering of another by force is both a different practice and against the basic vows of all who use this method of energy healing. It causes harm not just in the one being forced, as they inst- instinct- instinctively fight, but also to the original source. For the source to place all this pain solely onto the one to be healed, or altered, is a practice that is generally only taught to those who are High Elders and Elementals, and thus to be entrusted with such great powers. To use it with ill-intent is to lose a great gift; often it leads to over-extending one's personal energies until the con- conclusion of death.

The sand here was really quite wet. It looked darker than the rest of the sand. She must have lost some blood, but it couldn't be too much; she could breathe easily enough, even if she had to take a few more breaths than normal. Mostly, she was just tired. She wanted to sleep and escape the pain.

It wasn't so bad, really. One bad burn on her shoulder, no matter how deep the flesh melted, and she could still stand. She didn't want to think of her wing, limp and useless, spread on the ground beside her. She was scared to think of her friend. Maybe she had spoken already; her ears were still ringing from the light rushing by, so she may not have heard.

The pink shell-gem was still nearby, sparkling innocuously.


Leave it to the Princess to memorize her lectures, he muttered, falling just short of being bitter as reluctant respect crept into his tone. I'm no great healer, squirt. Would packing that hole with dirt hurt you?

He hadn't moved much; the bare flick of his tail betrayed his agitation, his ears cocked for sound his concern for the others.

Thorn was in way over his head. He had no idea what to do. He just wanted to stop that thing from leaking - and he didn't want to have to look at it any more.
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Post Tue Sep 22, 2015 4:45 pm

Re: Dawn's Cold Light

It had been silent. The jewel had been silent. She’d picked it up and dropped it. There was nothing. She’d heard nothing. Had she lost her gift? Gods, she’d lost it, lost it and because of that--

“Khala, khala let me up please khala I need to see--”

But Hellion was already rising, stiff-limbed and stoic, and behind her Astarte could hear AuraSidra’s broken wail. ‘No...NO!’

She was bad luck. So stupid, so naive and ignorant all this time. Sive had warned her, Avi had warned her, but she’d gotten so complacent, assured in her gift. She tried to dart around Hellion’s stolid body, but the mare stomped, blocking her. Astarte pinned her ears back. “I need to see!”

“Behind me!” The mare snapped, her voice like a slap. Astarte’s eyes darted past. The gem lay where it had before. Hellion moved away from her, placing herself before it like a shield; as she did, AuraSidra came into view.

Oh gods. Oh gods.

“...I’m ok,” she managed, eyes drawn inexorably to the ruin of the filly’s wing. She’d never seen anything like it, and her stomach clenched with each splatter of gore. But she would not look away. This was--her fault. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry AuraSidra, I didn’t know--I--”

Her voice died in her. She’d been born to create things, to put things together. And she’d broken someone, someone dear.

She did not know how to fix this.


“Astarte.” The youngling’s eyes snapped to her. Hellion could see the guilt in them, the start of the slow spiral. She knew it, but she knew nothing of how to soothe it away. She knew only that it was not the time. “The unwounded side, she needs support. Don’t let her fall, keep her awake.”

Her niece moved without hesitation, drawing close to her friend’s uninjured side. Tentative, still, from the guilt, but maybe the little one would draw comfort in seeing her friend unhurt and feeling her nearby. Neither would be distracted by concern now--damages had been assessed, the worst already in the light. Next task.

‘What do you know of healing?’

“Little, only countermeasures,” she replied, furrowing her eyes at AuraSidra’s rambling lessons. The healing she spoke of made small sense to her--what she knew was not in that vein.

But Astarte eyes had brightened, feverishly. The girl had a problem solver’s mind, finally kicking into gear after the shock. “But Sive said your bonded is the strongest one, she told me, Sethe is like the old ones and that’s why the sun won’t rise for her and she can will things to be and--”

“I am not my mistress!” Hells, she hadn’t meant to yell. Astarte drew closer to AuraSidra, eyes still burning. She sighed. “I have none of that. I am her failure, Astarte, so do not expect much.”

She shot a long look at the gem--it sat, gave her nothing--then turned to examine the wound. It was difficult, with the girl crumpled from exhaustion and blood loss. Hide and a good layer of flesh and muscle gone, but not cauterized by the way it was bleeding--no, that would’ve been too lucky. The ligaments to the wing had to be severed, or it would not be limp as it was. This was beyond her.

“I have small spells to stop bleeding and to dull pain, but I’ve not cast them on any but myself before.” Her eyes flicked to Astarte, to Thorn. “I will try. They may not take, and I don’t know if they’ve got anything to do with what she’s talking about. Get the dirt, in case. Clay is best.”

She drew back, so the entirety of the girl was in her sight. ‘Visualize,’ came her mistress’s offhand sing-song in her head. ‘Look to the wound, or feel it if you can’t see, I suppose. Then the words. Child's play. I made it simple for you.’

A charm really, hardly a spell. But maybe that meant whatever consequences AuraSidra had babbled were a non-issue. Probably it wasn’t weaving. Just a charm, to make sure Hellion could drag her broken body back to the castle, where her mistress could just lay her hands on her, make her whole. If she’d done her duty, at least. Hellion muttered the words, felt something leave her, waited to see what it would do.

((Sorry it's so short! I tried to fit it to immediacy of the situation ^^;;))

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