|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
 Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 5:26 am
Tonberry's History
The lonely mother of a murderer came to a forested graveyard to spread her son's ashes between the graves of his victims. Ridiculed and taunted for her son's crimes, she hoped a metaphysical retribution for his life of pain would bring her some measure of peace. She left a knife, his sole murder weapon, in his urn at the headstone of his last victim. Leaving the graveyard with a lighter heart, she hoped her son's spirit would repent for his crimes in the afterlife, even after death had allowed an escape from his punishments on the earthen world.
The first breath was a cough. Dirty and gritty air filled tiny lungs for the first time. The moon hid behind a cloud, turning it's eye from the form pulling itself together in the graveyard below. Darkness was the first thing it saw and it created light to see. Holding its light up from the dewy grass, the small creature stood. A tremble shook its frame, shaking off the last of the ash. A robe, a rough-hewn executioner's robe, hung from its small frame and a long feathery tail curled through the grass. Holding its light high, it boldly lifted one foot forward...and stepped on its robe and tumbled to the ground. An ungainly squeak pierced the silent air as a small green chin hit fresh grave soil. The light, captured in a lantern bigger than its own head, nearly flew out of hand as it knocked against something. Wood against ceramic, and a muffled thunk as an ornate urn hit the ground, barely an inch from the small, green face. Yellow eyes cast a glow reflected in something that had fallen partially out of the urn. Gently sliding feet beneath itself, it stood, plucking the piece of metal from the grass. Holding it's lantern high, small fingers wriggled against the cool metal. It felt right now, it felt complete. The moon slid out from behind the clouds to look down on the creature that stood almost camouflaged against the grass. Tonberry. The creature wasn't sure why, but the name felt right. As though something not even of this world had decided it for him...
Steps taken next felt better, feet shuffling underneath the ungainly robe. Leaves, crunchy and dead, fluttered by and Tonberry tried to follow quickly. A few hurried steps and he was on his face again, kicking his feet out of tangled robes and settling himself upright. Snorting indignantly, he bunched the front of his robes and made off with a shuffling waddle that he knew looked as ridiculous as it felt. Dropping the cloth, he continued to shuffle slowly. Lantern swinging, he passed a stuffed animal, at the base of a fresh headstone. Tonberry stared at it for a moment, and knew something important was about to happen.
...*doink*
The knife popped through the thin material easily and a shudder of joy slipped through his small body. He removed the knife slowly, nudging the stuffed creature off the blade with the lantern.
...*doink* ...*doink doink*
It felt right. It felt good. Removing blade for a last time, he looked around and started off toward the forest. It would be difficult, he acknowledged with a tug of his robe, but he'd love to doink something that moved.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 5:28 am
Meeting of Soti, Pinkin, and Tonberry
The forest was calm, early autumn just starting to creep into the leaves and set tiny fires of red and auburn among the green. The fields just beyond the forest, barely visible through the scattered tree trunks, were just beginning to turn into the golden haze of the grasses' winter hibernation. Cicadas hummed in the trees above, sounding their own warning of the end of a fruitful summer.
"Would you stupid bugs shut up already?" Soti banged a stick against the base of her tree. The humming changed timbre, a slightly higher note of defiance.
A pink ball of light circled Soti and settled between the stick and the tree. "Now stop that, they aren't hurting anyone." Pinkin's voice was high and fast, typical of a fairy, especially one slightly out of patience.
"Do they have to be so loud?" Soti tossed the stick down in irritation. "I'm going to find some lunch." Stepping out of the cradle of dying roots that was their current home, Soti looked around. One squirrel was digging a hole not too far away. Birds sang. Stupid bugs hummed. No one around.
"Good! I'll come with you!"
Soti sighed, but didn't bother to argue. There was no arguing with fairies, they always got their way. Keeping close to the trees and out of sight of the forest edge, she walked.
Pinkin followed along behind, not particularly caring where Soti found food. She was better at it, and Pinkin always found something to nibble on when they were out and about. She found more comfort in the fact that Soti had up and left on her own, something that seemed to happen more often when the cicadas irritated her. It was lucky she didn't know the cicadas liked Pinkin more than Soti, or she might even guess that they sang around their tree because Pinkin asked them too.
The sun was sinking quickly, a sign of the dying summer. Dusk was not far away and Soti had stopped walking periodically to sit and eat when they found a tree big enough to hide under. Or at least for Soti to hide, Pinkin refused to, and danced around the roots to irritate her. Standing up from such a stop, Soti looked up through the trees at the sun setting fire to the clouds. Getting her bearings, she looked around before setting back towards their home. No sense in being out too late, it was hard to keep a look out at night and Pinkin did absolutely nothing to help with staying hidden.
Soti stopped suddenly and pressed against a tree, face frozen. Pinkin danced over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"You don't hear that?" Both stilled and a rhythmic thumping echoed from the forest ahead. "That's not natural, there's someone out there..." Soti hissed and sunk behind the tree away from the noise. In the admittedly short time they'd been in the forest, she'd been lucky enough to not run into any other sentient creatures, especially no other kokiri. But something was out there now and it might very well be-
"Oh don't be silly, I'll go check it out." Pinkin laughed Soti's fear off easily and sped ahead, hardly concealing her anticipation. Almost a year in the forest alone with only herself and the cicadas to talk to, Pinkin hoped some benign creature had indeed wandered into the forest so Soti could remember what it was like to have more than exactly one friend in the world. If it wasn't so benign, well, fairies weren't easy to catch and there was no way she'd let them have her Soti.
Soti gripped the tree nervously and watched the receding trail of pink. Pinkin wouldn't betray her, would she? She was just going to check it out, right? Soti made Pinkin promise after they stopped running that she wouldn't make her go back; Pinkin would remember, right? But what if they weren't after Soti at all, what if they were fairy-hunters, what if they captured Pinkin? The thought grew in her mind and her lip trembled. Pinkin was her one true friend, she didn't know what she would do if Pinkin were gone. The thumping stopped. In nervous, halted steps, Soti took off in its direction.
Immediately after finding the source of the thumping, Pinkin reflected how absurd it was. There were no graveyards in the forest, no shrines, it wasn't even night yet! Yet here was a poe, in their forest, for some reason, methodically stabbing the trunk of a tree. After a few moments, it paused and looked around along the forest floor. Hiding in a tree branch, she watched as the creature sigh and return to its task at the tree. Unsure what to think, Pinkin came out from behind the branch and floated next to the poe's tree.
"Ahem...what might you be doing?"
The poe looked up at Pinkin with luminescent yellow eyes and held up it's lantern to her. It looked....sad, like it was almost read to cry. It looked at her, then at the hole in the tree, then at its own knife. Lowering the lantern a bit, it raised the knife. Unsure of what to do, Pinkin floated back out of reach. The poe took one slow step...and tumbled forward on the edge of his robe. Pity welled up in the fairy and she descended to his shoulder. He slid up to his knees slowly and looked down at the knife and lantern splayed on the ground.
Pinkin patted a tiny hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but I'd really rather you not do that anyway. What's your name?"
The poe looked at her sideways and blinked. After a moment, "Ton...berry."
"Tonberry? What a nice name. My name's Pinkin. You shouldn't do that to people, it's not nice."
"But I...want to...doink...something. But I'm...not...fast." He hung his head and reached down to pick up the lantern and knife.
"Um, well, you still shouldn't...doink people, it's just not very nice."
Not too far away, Soti saw Pinkin's aura reflecting off the trees in the near-dark, and slowed, peering around the underbrush. No hunters, no other kokiri, nothing...no, there was a poe there. Soti's face twisted in confusion. What was a poe doing in the forest? Apparently making a poor attempt at cutting down a small tree. Looking around, she didn't see any further movement in the quickening dark. Pinkin was safe, and it appeared Soti's home was too. Why would a wood-chopper poe want to drag her away from her home? Rotting trees made terrible firewood.
Pinkin was somewhat at a loss for words as Tonberry stood. He seemed so...depressed. Suddenly, a pair of relatively large feet stepped through the bushes.
"Soti?" Soti? Here? She came? Thoughts connected and she bounced happily in the air. "This is Tonberry, Soti. He was making the noise."
Tonberry shuffled slowly to face Soti, his feathery tail dragging a few dead leaves as his drug around behind him. He looked up until his hood fell from his head, revealing his large poe ears. Soti and Tonberry locked eyes and Tonberry tentatively raised the knife and gave it a small nudge in Soti's direction. "Can I...doink you?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 5:29 am
Nagi's History
We see a solemn graveyard, lit dimly by an orange moon. The sun was barely over the horizon and the sky was slowly dousing the flames of a fiery red sunset. Hints of crimson graced the arcs of the headstones, somewhat aged, but regal remnants of persons gone. Generals, commanders, leaders, importance in life mattered not to the mud and dirt that crept into cushioned coffins. There, at the far edge, a lonely woman, old as some of the stones she walked among, bent her head and cried to one of the stone memorials.
Nagi looked up into the night sky and reflected she had never seen the moon before. It struck her with some surprise that she couldn't recall having seen anything before. Looking around at the rows of polished headstones, she further reflected that it didn't entirely matter. She was here, she was thinking coherently, therefore she must have something she needed to be doing.
The grass was too high, it itched under her shin guards and she floated irritably above the offending weeds. Graveyard grass, all grass for that matter, should be well-kempt and orderly. Snapping into an offensive stance, she fixed the plantlife in question with an aggravated stare as she floated just above the tops. Neat and orderly it must be, neat and orderly it would be. With a sharp exhale, she swung her blade. Snippets of green catapulted into the air in swathes, and soon a good sized diameter of grass had been neatly trimmed. Straightening, she planted the end of her naginata and set her feet firmly in her tamed section of grass. In her moment of triumph over the forces of nature, she heard a soft whine on the wind. Hopping up on a headstone, she danced across the tops to find a woman in gray, kneeling at a relatively new grave. She was crying.
Holding her tongue for the moment, Nagi considered the situation in mild confusion. A woman, old, granted, but still able-bodied had come to the graveyard to...cry. Nagi suppressed a grimace, but lowered the naginata. "What are you doing?"
The woman whirled in surprise, but far too slowly. She was quite lucky Nagi was not violent-hearted, Nagi herself reflected. She may be old, but that was no excuse for poor reflexes.
"Wha..." She looked up in shock.
"What are you doing?" Nagi repeated forcefully. There had to be some purpose for the woman being here. No one went to graveyards, or anywhere for that matter, without a purpose.
The woman's face fell and the tears threatened to return. "M-my husband...he's gone..." She turned to run her hand over the face of the stone. "Since he died, I've been so...lonely..." Her voice choked over and she closed her eyes.
Closing her eyes was probably for the best, as Nagi was staring at her with a measure of incredulity. She was missing something, there had to be something she did not understand. "But why are you here?
The woman sighed but did not look up. Her hand found its way back to the headstone. "This is his grave." She answered quietly.
Frustration built up. "But why are you here?"
The woman looked up in a close mirror of Nagi's own expression. "Because this is where he lies! Where he's buried! I come here to be near him, to-to...mourn!"
Whipping her naginata over the woman's head in frustration, she took guilty pleasure in watching her head dip lower in shock and fear. "Mourning has absolutely no purpose, no point at all! You could be out, working, improving yourself and...whatever craft you do. Wasting time talking to a stone is wasting the precious time of your life."
The woman's face grew angrier with every word and she stood suddenly, her head almost level with Nagi's. "Just what kind of Poe are you! You're supposed to help me, to-to guide me in my time of need!" Her voice rose to almost a howl with her last words.
Anger flushed Nagi's face and she clutched hard to the naginata as she paused. "I'm not that kind of Poe I guess." She gritted out.
Pushing out her jaw, the woman swallowed heavily and whirled on the spot. She strode back into the forest, lip quivering. Nagi watched her go through slitted eyes. Turning her attention back to the grave before her, she adjusted her grip on the naginata and jumped down. When she jumped away again, she left a swathe of perfectly cut grass.
When the whole of the graveyard was cut, grave offerings aligned, tree branches trimmed, Nagi gave up. The woman had never come back, and the fact that neither had anyone else said something for either the talkativeness of the woman, or the extreme impopularity of the people buried there. In either case, It was not long before Nagi struck out into the forest, looking for something else that needed to be done.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 5:30 am
Serenity's History
In the shadow of a valley of the Moon, a small kingdom was nestled, surrounded by meadows and sparse forests. Few traders and travelers passed along the dusty roads, and the kingdom kept its peace in solitude. The slope of the valley left the kingdom in perpetual twilight save for a few precious hours at midday where the sun moved over its summit. The royal family clothed themselves in the whites and blues of the moon they made their home on, and decorated themselves and their halls with the golden of the precious sun. In a line of peaceful rulers, we see now a king who has lost his queen to a quiet disease of the heart, holding his two younger daughters as they look forlornly out over their kingdom.
The youngest of these two girls was Serenity, a child of long limbs, silver hair, and a wistful heart. A golden crescent moon traced her forehead, the mark of the second in line for the throne. Unlike her sister, who had the silver crescent of the firstborn, and thusly the duties of being the heiress to the throne, Serenity had the time to sit in the meadows and watch the stars move in their perpetual dance across the sky. And so passed her days in quiet and solitude, only the grass and the sky for company.
One night, however, one particular twinkle caught her eye. It pulled to her heart and she realized in that moment that she was lonely. There was another heart on the other end of that twinkle, flickering like a distant flame, and it was male, and it was calling to her. For the first time, Serenity, the youngest daughter of the king, a princess who would never rule, and perpetual maiden of the kingdom, felt what it was like to be wanted. The thought filled her heart, and she sent him her love and devotion on the moonbeams every night. Wishing to be together was not enough, however, and she knew she needed to descend to be with him. Warnings from her family fell on deaf ears, and it was only the physical intervention of her father that prevented her from casting her soul into the sky towards the ever-present Earth.
A betrothal quickly followed, to a rambunctious prince from a kingdom in the mountains. Serenity disliked him for his antics, but he doted on her in his own arrogant, immature ways. She knew her father would never truly force her to marry, but the distraction was a success. When next she found herself in her meadow alone, her prince having gone back to his mountains, the spark was gone. Perhaps her Earthen lover had given up, or another had followed the candle's light to it's source. Lying in her field, Serenity turned to her side and cried into the grass, not for the loss of a lover, but the loss of something she worried she would not feel again.
Her mountain prince did not return, duties in his own kingdom keeping him tied there. With neither a title nor a love to tie her to her home, she set out to travel and fill her mind with the faces of her people, and eventually the faces of those far from her kingdom, hoping that one day the many faces of the moon would replace the one she would never know from Earth. She wandered the second moon for what seemed ages, far from even knowledge of her kingdom, swallowing her pain, swallowing the memory of her loss. She met many who approached her with the finest intentions, and many who had somewhat less honorable intentions, but she never again felt the spark she once had. She learned to meet their compliments with gratitude and friendship, but not much else.
One lonely, cold night, she looked up into the stars, and felt it once again. Not the longing, not the want, but the pull of a particular twinkle. It had been far too long to hope her first love was still even alive, but something desperately lonely inside her called out to the tiny flame, and Serenity felt herself ascend into the starlight and space between the worlds. When she opened her eyes, she was alone again. The one who laid out the candle had not returned, and Serenity waited a day, watching other candles being lain and others like herself being retrieved. She left the Shrine of Candles at the end of the second day, and so began to wander, much the same as she had done on the Moon.
Her inner unhappiness brought a desire to calm the suffering of others, and soon her anguish was buried so deep that none knew the regal twilif who sought the peace of others had once hurt so terribly. Her travels through the spirit villages of the Earth brought her a small measure of recognition, and eventually, her visage ascended to the sky to form the constellation Serenity.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 5:31 am
The Calling of Jareth
Serenity lifted her skirts from the dusty cobblestones and gently nudged her way through the crowd. The noise and the bustle pushed against her skin like a hot, damp cloth, but soon she found her way to the front. The highlight of the festival was one thing: the Candle Makers. Seated at the foot of a beast-like statue, was one of them, Haveni. Vastly paler than Serenity, with hair like spun clouds, she sat stoically amidst the crowd that pressed as close as they dared, vying for one of the precious candles. She was passing one to an excited customer, it seemed Serenity had missed the beginning of the sale.
For the first moment since deciding to push through the throng, Serenity second-guessed herself. Was she really considering getting a candle? True, her wanderings were occasionally lonely, but did she really have it in her to pull another like herself from the safety and calm of the Moon?
Another hush spread through the crowd as Haveni once again reached into her bag, drawing a breath to speak to the anxious crowd. Serenity felt a twinge of shared anxiety from those around her, but her own breath left her as Haveni raised the next candle up.
"This is from shards of a crystal ball... Crushed Crystal it it called..." The crowd surged to life, but Serenity's breath did not return to her. The candle was small, deceivingly subtle for all its importance.
In her mind's eye, Serenity saw a kingdom built into a mountain, forever bathed in twilight as its citizens wandered the massive labyrinth surrounding the castle, leading intruders astray. She saw a twilif prince sitting in her meadow, pulling the petals from flowers out of boredom. She saw a mischievous young man who stuck her hair pieces in the ground to make tiny fortresses of gold around a crystal ball that he picked up and juggled over and around his hands to make her laugh...
Bids for the candle crashed about her, bringing an abrupt halt to the thoughts. Pulling in an unsteady breath, Serenity's hand shot up of it's own accord. She was vaguely aware of a great many eyes on her as a pair the color of the coldest mountain ice turned to her. The hand extended, and Serenity took the candle numbly. She had won. The bid had been nothing more than an impulse, and she had won. Backing awkwardly out of the crowd, she shielded the precious flame as the crowd surged in around her, many eager to take her place and earn a candle for themselves.
Finally separating herself from the main throng, she weaved through the spectators surrounding the periphery, many craning their necks to see the excitement. She moved to an empty booth, her eyes cast down to the precious bit of wax and wick and flame that would bring her... She frowned. Someone. Certainly not someone she knew. It had been ages since she had come across someone who even knew of her kingdom, and now, of the many, many souls the single flame may reach... It was impossible. She looked back at the throng as a cheer went up, another candle being passed. This candle would bring her a friend, but not one she knew.
She kept her peace as she made her way to the Shrine of Candles, passing the occasional person on their way back. Climbing the steps, she took a breath and hesitated before setting the candle down. A breeze swept through the temple, shifting the skirts around her feet, and her hair moved against her back and wings. With an almost sad anxiety, she gently slid the candle from her hand to the shrine. It was done. Looking suddenly up at the moon, she imagined she could see the sparkles of others like her, looking for that one special candle to light the way down.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 5:33 am
Reserved for Ausen's History
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
Posted: Tue Aug 25, 2009 5:35 am
Rosel's History
The only daughter of a nobleman, Rosel was betrothed to a man from a neighboring kingdom to strengthen alliance ties. She learned quickly that this new family was weak, and she easily bent the household to her will. Servants obeyed her every word for fear of being banished or worse, the mess of non-inheriting family members bent over backwards at her feet in the hopes of gaining favor or a small slice of the bit of countryside her new family ruled. They were all weak, and Rosel enjoyed what seemed limitless power for a time.
Things changed, however, when the grandmother of the house came to live. Though now bedridden, having ruled over the family for generations, the grandmother was not about to let Rosel take control, and the household turned into a battleground of conflicting orders and underhanded insults. What was once hardly a challenge was now a full-scale war and after only a scant year after the grandmother had moved in, Rosel realized it was a war that she could not win. Decades of experience could not be outdone by sheer creativity and Rosel avoided direct encounters with the grandmother if she could. Losses face to face were more than she, or her reputation, could bear.
Her sniveling husband could be easily controlled through anger, but the rest of the household was slowly aligning itself with the grandmother's wishes. Her insults lost their bite without the peripheral family members gossiping about them, her orders would not be obeyed by servants who had no fear of retribution that would only be taken back by the grandmother. The blood of a family was thicker than the spun gold of her wedding band, and Rosel was only a new wife who had yet to produce an heir. Not that she had ever bothered to try; her ingrate of a husband was not fit to touch her in such a way.
It happened on the most mundane of days. It was after dinner, sitting in the parlor, exchanging veiled threats as conversation. A poorly delivered insult left Rosel wide open for mockery, quickly taken advantage of by the grandmother's sharp tongue. Underhanded abuse was heaped on top of crafted insults and insinuations when Rosel finally snapped. She didn't know how it happened, but when the lightning burst from her body, it was a release so energizing she laughed aloud for a full ten minutes. The grandmother was dead, charred body slightly smoking, and the family members dropped their tea, cried hysterically, and most of all, did not touch the laughing Rosel.
When the laughter died, all in the room looked one by one to the maiden on the floor, still holding her sides. When she looked up, she sneered. Ingrates, useless peasants, imbeciles, every one of them. If they were smart, they would have ran from her.
The household dissolved into screams of chaos before long, servants falling under bolts of lightning as black as night. Fire erupted from the walls and tapestries and decorated bedchambers, ensnaring those it could. Those it did not found themselves facing a nightmare with glowing green eyes, sneering as they tried to escape lightning that burst forth from her body.
As much fun as the destruction was, it became tiresome, and when the villagers started swarming the manor in desperation, if only to loot what they could get before the fire did, Rosel knew she didn't have enough strength to kill them all. Their small countryside knew her face and her position, if they knew she was alive there would be no mercy. Not about to go through something so mundane as imprisonment, or even execution, she threw a cloak over herself, still wearing the black pearls from the dinner and pushed back through the crowd. Escaping into the falling night, she leapt onto the moonbeams and traveled to earth. In the inferno of the manor, a plain gold band slowly melted on the floor of what was once the parlor.
It was the rain that woke her, nearly a day later. Opening her eyes, she was greeted with a sky shattered with lightning and sheets of cold rain on her face. Somehow she had gotten lost on her way down, and now lay across the trunk of a fallen tree in a dead swamp. Her cloak was ripped and soaked, useless. Aside from the lightning, the only steady light came from green fluorescent mushrooms populating the trails of interlinking fallen trees. Alone, unharmed, and in a place that probably didn't know of her or her crimes, she left the swamp for the Village of the Red Moon.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Nov 06, 2009 1:24 pm
Jareth's History
Born the only son of a long line of kings as brash and outspoken as he would grow to be, he was happy to accept his future role as king. His kingdom was set at the base of a mountain and surrounded by a vast labyrinth, built up by his predecessors to keep out intruders. In his early days, Jareth enjoyed going out with the subjects to torment the intruders that continually ventured into the labyrinth, each hoping to stake a home in the kingdom that drew riches out of the mountain like a river. Occasionally, people who wandered in were innocently lost, but inevitably fell victim to the usually harmless mischief.
Eventually though, his parents realized their heir had to find a future queen. However, his gallivanting about left no time for romancing princesses. A betrothal had to arranged with a kingdom nearby, a kingdom with two unmarried princesses, both near his age. Though Jareth's parents would have preferred he marry the eldest princess, the one who would eventually inherit her kingdom, the princesses' father preferred he marry the younger of the two, who had been out of sorts and needed something to ground her.
Meetings between the two were mildly successful, and things were looking up. Until one day, there was a cave-in during a royal inspection of one of the mines and both Jareth's parents were killed. Not that Jareth didn't mourn, but cave-ins were an accepted danger for both royalty and subjects. And so Jareth assumed his role as king, and was called away from dallying with his betrothed, at least until affairs were straightened out enough that they could marry.
Unfortunately, when that time came, the young princess was nowhere to be found. She had become distracted during her time with Jareth, but after he left, she'd returned to her wistful frame of mind and left the kingdom, apparently assuming he'd had no interesting in marrying her.
Jareth had never really experienced rejection, even though it was only perceived rejection, but he attempted to take it in stride. The work of the kingdom became repetitive and he tired of only having his subjects to talk to. He wondered constantly about what had happened to his betrothed. Finally, one night, after looking up at the stars, he saw a particular twinkle. It reminded him of her, and he immediately set off on the moonbeams to earth. After all, he could always teleport back to check on things, and he'd certainly never denied himself his own curiosity. However, after a lifetime of teleporting like his ancestors before him, he was unused to the concentration needed for following the candle-light, and got lost. When he finally made it to the Shrine of the Candles, his own candle had burnt out and there was no one around.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Silent Comet Vice Captain
|
Posted: Fri Apr 09, 2010 11:54 am
Reserved for Marius's History
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
