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 Posted: Sat Feb 25, 2012 11:15 pm
 He was not afraid of death, for how could he be fearful of it if he was surrounded by it every day? Even though he was still young, he had helped his father console the dying souls who grieved at the concept of their passing. It was not until they listened with rapt attention to the beautiful picture father and son wove about the Underworld; the Elysian plain was a spectacular place, with wide open meadows that stretched as far as the eye could see. Deceased loved ones waited with open hearts, no longer feeling the pain and strife of life. So how could he fear something so wonderful?
Westrion’s caramel brown eyes, which were a lighter shade of his father’s, gazed at the meadow of flowers; the sight reminded him of the stories his father wove about his ancient home. The colt knew that it had been hard for his father, knowing that he could never return to the land he once called home, but that all changed when his mother, Lina, entered into his father’s life, for the dark stallion no longer craved the need to return to the land of the dead. Wes smiled, even though he was young, he was hoping to find a love similar to what his parents shared, a love so strong that it was decreed by the fates.
The flowers gave off an alluring scent, asking those who walked by to smell their enchanting aroma; he walked slowly through the sea of flora, he was alone and enjoying the peacefulness of the day. The young Angeni foal had wandered away from his family, for Erebes was causing trouble again, which caused sadness to fill the young black winged colt’s heart; Westrion had a sense of dread that his brother did not like him. He could not understand why his brother acted the way he did, no matter how much Westrion shows that he cares for his brother, Erebes somehow manages to twist his complement and appreciation into something terrible.
A large sigh escaped the colt, he did not know what to do with his brother, how could he make Erebes understand that he was his brother, no matter what appearances revealed otherwise?
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Posted: Fri May 04, 2012 11:34 pm
 The wind whispered secrets into her ears. The whole world swayed in the wind just as the tree on her back moved to some soundless rhythm. The world thrummed in her mind, like shadows on a canvas. Horrible phantasms dancing before her eyes. Soft, slow steps until she came into the afterlife. Darkness so impenetrable that opening her eyes did nothing. It stretched on and on, all alone with the haunting refrain echoing in the background Her eyes opened slowly from the dream. Imprinted on her eyes was the visage of the stallion she would seek, the one who may have lead her to death. The half-forgotten words of the song came to the surface before plunging under again. She had to find him, maybe she could learn the story. Maybe she could... ... The dandelions swayed in the breeze. The whispers of the wind were sweet as she swayed along slowly. Ahead of her, a young foal stood and she tilted her head. Perhaps he knew of the one she looked for. But what exactly was she to ask. Her eyes fell on him, the crimson tears falling as ever, "Foal, do you know the leader unto death?"
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 5:04 pm
A strong fresh scent wafted into Westrion’s nostrils as he made his way from the alluring scent of the colorful flowers; the new scent was easy recognizable but to many who did not understand herb lore, believed the aromatic bush with the purple flowers was an over glorified weed. A small smile appeared on the foal’s countenance as he closed his caramel eyes, “Rosemary for remembrance.” An internal voice also whispered the other proprieties that the herb held, but he pushed them aside, he was too young to even contemplate what his mind proposed.
Opening his eyes, the young foal looked down at the dandelion tickling his leg, the magical uses of the plant resonated with the son of the God of the Underworld; it has been said that to learn how long a person has to live, they must blow off the seeds of the head of the dandelion and how many seeds remain are the amount of years they have left to live.
Her voice drew him out of his internal musings about the many magical usages that dandelions process; he turned to look at the mare with the strange question, why was she searching for his father? If that was who she was searching for, “I believe I do, for I am his son, if I am understanding your question properly.” His caramel eyes widened when he saw the blood tear and he felt the need to help the mare, "Are you alright miss?" He knew that was probably stupid question to ask, but he was not sure what else to say to the mare with the dark tree attached to her back.
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 5:35 pm
Lament's lashes lowered as she looked down at the small foal who seemed mesmerized but the swaying flowers. His words were kind, but cool--faintly echoing the memory of the stallion who was his father. The same tone, the same warmth...the same feel of one leading her unto death. "Tell me child, are you like him? Will you lead unto death to? Or is your father the only one?"
She opened her eyes wider, the tears sliding down her nose, and dropping on to the leaves below. What fortune had brought her exactly to the one she was looking for? How had she been so lucky to have found him so quickly? Well not him exactly, but one who could at least lead her to him. Would it be like greeting an old friend or would the sight of him bring back the bitter remembrances of death. "I am..." she paused considering exactly what she was. "I am well."
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Wed May 30, 2012 6:02 pm
He tilted his head to the side as he considered her question, was he like his father? “In many ways, I am similar to my father, I help him guide souls to the Underworld and treat the wounded, but also in many ways I am different than my father,” mostly that I am not a pariah and a recluse, he said to himself silently. He loved his father dearly, but it still came as a surprise to the foal that his father was able to let down his walls and allow his mother to enter his heart. When Háidēs walked the fields filled with the aftermath of battle with his son, the young Westrion witnessed a different stallion; Háidēs was no longer an outcast, but a bright spirit in a dark world.
Westrion shifted closer to the mare, she said she was well, but those three words seemed to be lacking something, like she too was lacking in something. Her tears continued to fall from her grey eyes, how could she cry a blood like fluid and still say she was well? “Why are you seeking my father?”
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Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2012 11:11 pm
Lament tilted her head, calmly considering why she was hunting Haides. It was some lure, like he was a magnet for her. Had she not met him before when she had died? Or at least, she thought she had died...that had to be it because nothing else really made sense otherwise.
Death was the only thing that ever did make sense. A welcoming friend after a long day that would close the curtain and lower your weary eyes--he was outcast like her...and yet...Now he had a son. Maybe that was it? Maybe she wanted to understand how to be among the living?
But was she alive? She felt so, she thought. "I have questions for him, questions that only your father death can answer."
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2012 11:41 pm
To the young colt, the mare standing before him appeared to be a lost soul, unsure of which direction to go, fated to constantly wander the land; Westrion felt his heart go out to the mare, he wanted to help ease her pain in any way that he could and if that was taking her to his father, that is what he would do. Westrion bowed his head to the mare, “I will take you to him Miss, and I hope that my father has the answers to the questions you seek.”
If he asked her what those questions were, would she think him too young, too immature to know the answer? Or would she accept that he is his father’s son and is slowly learning the ways of death. He already knew that he was not afraid to die and had come across some situations where he was almost at death’s abode. He shook himself, he did not know the answers she sought; his father was the one that knew her and provided a service for her of some sort.
A soft blush appeared on his countenance, he had forgotten his manners… again, “Sorry Miss, I forgot to introduce myself, I am Westrion.” He decided not to ask for her name, if she wished to bestow him the honor of her name, he would be elated, but she was here to see Háidēs, not him.
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 7:43 pm
She walked behind him, the tree swaying gently on her back. She listened to his name, tried to commit it to the confines of her memories. "I have named myself Lament," she paused. "I had another name once, but I do not know it."
She fell silent, walking behind him. The weight of the tree seemed even more burdensome as she followed the foal. Would her old friend remember her? Would he be able to offer her some information or some solace? Would he bring back some long forgotten memories and help her reconcile with her past? Was that even what she wanted?
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2012 1:38 pm
Lament, it was such a sad name, but it seemed to fit the mare behind him with her blood red tears and the melancholy look upon her countenance. Westrion was young, he did not have the experience to know yet the feeling of loss or suffering of someone close to him; he had witnessed it in others, who he was helping pass from this world with the aid of his father.
“How long have you known my father?” Westrion wondered why his father never mentioned the mare with the ghostly tree upon her back; the colt knew that he would never forget his encounter with the melancholy mare, who strangely he felt the strong urge to comfort, more than any other of his patients.
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Posted: Sun Jul 22, 2012 2:29 am
Lament mused the question, "I don't know. His name came to me from some long forgotten memory. I remember him vaguely, but I know not how or why or...It's gone," she walked slowly as her tree swayed.
So many of her memories were vacant. They came back in slow unsteady measures. She hoped that Haide remembered her. She needed him to so that she could find another missing piece of her past.
Flashes would come to her mind. Dark, swaying trees and Haide's low voice soothing her by something. She didn't know what he said in those memories, but she wanted to.
"I was hoping, he could tell me." She just really hoped that he would remember her, that someone would remember her even if it wasn't herself.
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Sun Aug 12, 2012 10:32 am
The young warrior healer nodded his head, not at all surprised that his father’s name was from a long lost memory and that the mare had difficulty recalling where that fragment of thought was located within the mind. The brain worked in strange and magnificent ways; when under stress it places those memories to the furthest recesses of the mind. Westrion wondered what happened to the mare to regress such a memory.
“We are almost to my father, he was collecting herbs and stones when I left him,” Westrion turned his caramel gaze to the large oak whose bark was beginning to flake off which created a jagged look to the lovely ancient tree. In the distance, with the bright sun behind him, stood a dark figure with his black wings opened wide soaking in the rays of light.
Háidēs noticed the moving tree before his son and the mare who bore the heavy burden. Something pulled in his memories, he felt as if he had forgotten a piece of information that was vital to him and the situation he was about to face. His love of his life, Lina, would tell him that when it was time, the memory would resurface; he would just need to be patient. His demeanor softened as he thought about his beautiful mate, clad in purple and narcissus flowers. He could still not believe how lucky he was to have stumbled upon her; he thanked the fates (who he used to curse every day before he met Lina) for bringing her to him.
His chocolate brown eyes were bright with pride and love when he looked upon his son who was a perfect mix of both his parents, “Hello Westrion, I see you found a friend.”
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Posted: Fri Sep 14, 2012 12:52 am
Inky memories flooded to her. Coughing, sputtering...lips told to drink long and deep.
Long and deep...
The swaying of something heavy, the loud thuds. The sensation of choking on words, and sipping on water. Flashes of a cloak and soft gentle words. She leaned forward eagerly, trying to place his face in her mind.
"We knew each other once. Maybe only once. So maybe we're not friends, but you know something about me that I have forgotten. And I need to know it."
The tune came back to her...ever so softly in her mind, and without a though a few words slipped from her mouth--words she had not remembered until now, Are you, are you coming to the tree?
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Thu Sep 27, 2012 9:52 am
Háidēs’ eyes opened in shock when the vague sensation of recognition returned to him, he had encountered the mare before. Was she one of the many he thought were far into death to be brought back with just the simple healing herbs he used to treat the wounded? He knew he should recognize the mare, unless… unless she was one of those who had been reborn into the world, but if that was true, she should not have any memories of her past and he should not be able to recognize her or get the feeling of familiarity, “I am not sure if I have the answer you seek, but I will try to answer the best I am able.” He turned his gaze to his son who was listening intently to the conversation between the two adults, how did Westrion come across the sorrow filled mare?
Westrion looked back and forth between his father and the mare, there was a spark of recognition in his father, but even his father did not seem to fully recognize the mare and remember who she was. The young colt wanted to burst with questions but he held his tongue. His gaze shot to the mare when she began to sing under her breath, a sorrowful song about going to a tree. The young colt with the black wings ached to hear more of the song, but the mare was quiet once again.
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Posted: Thu Oct 25, 2012 2:17 am
Lament felt her heart drop at the expression on the stallions face. But with the drop of her heart, the swooshing sensation brought a memory to mind. She remembered being tired, sore, bloody. There had been tears, she thought. She remembered the sting of her eyes as they rolled down her face, the paths that they made in the grit and the grime.
Hadn't there been a melody wafting on the breeze? The sound of something slow and haunting, it seemed. The branches swayed in the breeze, but there was more to that than this. Something much heavier swung or so it seemed....
But the idea faded from memory.
Had not her eyes blinked up at the moonlight? A long sheen of dark hair with a knife in his mouth was there. Something around her neck that she pulled at, and tore away from her skin. He'd said some words over her hadn't he?
Her eyes drifted back up to him, "There was something around my neck binding me. You had a...knife..." She remembered the hazy motion of swinging back and forth, tears more tears.
She couldn't place what it meant. "Are you coming to the tree?" She repeated it softly, "Was it you that was coming? Was it I? Or was it someone else?"
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Nyx Queen of Darkness Crew
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Posted: Mon Oct 29, 2012 6:28 am
Flashes of memory appeared before the winged stallion’s eyes; there had been a mare lying before him and he had done what he did for many of his patients he found. He took care of her, believing her to be on the verge of dying. His brown eyes opened in recognition, even if the memory of how he treated her or knew her was vague, “I remember you. I was not sure you were going to make it.” He helped her suffering but did not stay with her, for he had believed she was beyond help, “I should have stayed. Why did I not stay?”
Háidēs shook his head as he stared at the mare, at war with himself. Now he stays with his patients until the end, perhaps it was because of his guilt for leaving this mare on that day that he stayed with those injured.
“Rope. A noose was around your neck cutting off your air supply, I had to get it off of you so you could breathe, but even then I believed it to be too late.”
Confusion clouded his vision, “I don’t believe it was I who came to the tree, but it is all a vague memory.” One that he had tried to forget.
Westrion stood, staring at both the adults. His father had left the mare for dead and here she is, alive and suffering from amnesia. It was not like his father to leave a patient to die alone, Háidēs had always taught Westrion and Erebes that they must remain by the side of the dying, to give them support as they enter the Underworld. His caramel eyes widened, the mare had a rope around her neck, did someone in the past want her dead? Would it be better if she did not remember the past in case those who committed the vicious crimes come looking for her again? Westrion did not speak; hoping that if he remained silent the adults would forget he was there and continue talking.
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