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 Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 5:35 pm
Welcome to the original birthplace of Aranthos This journal is maintained by Kaelyndra  Height: 16' 2" Aranthos' Stats Skill level: 35Power: 9 pts Strength: 11 pts Intelligence: 6 pts Wisdom: 13 pts Courage: 13 pts Luck: 13 pts Speed: 8 pts Agility: 6 pts Adaptability: 7 pts Stamina: 7 pts
Personality: Aranthos has always been the arrogant, cold type. His heart is in it only for himself, and his ways or trickery, using whatever he has to meet the others ruin. He worked his world with an iron fist, and despite his lack of skills, always picked fights among whomever he could. He was never good with children, he only knew he needed one son, which he never had, and became thouroughly bittered because of it. He may laugh with you, but never trust him, for his heart is not even there.
Location: Wherever the winds shove him.
Aranthos' Tree is located in the North Quadrant 
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Posted: Mon Mar 26, 2007 5:40 pm
Out of Context Notes
This journal is far different from the others that have been created for Nequus, mainly for the fact that Aranthos is somewhat of a different creature. This small section can be thought of as a forward, a note on the subject of Aranthos, but his life history shall be given through a huge series of journals leading up to the present day. What exactly occured in his lifetime will be left up to interpretation. So read and enoy, and let me know what you think.
He started out simply as eye candy. Lostlinx had done a beautiful job on him and I was quite insistent of his ownership. It took me ages to think up a name. At first I tried to find those with some meaning, but it was clear there was no name like that out there for him. In the end I simply made it up off the top of my head. From there a dead period occured. I simply didn't know what to do with him. Finally I set out to RP him at least once, hoping some type of character would come to form. At first I left it basic, but slowly Aranthos began to mold together. It quickly became evident that he was modelled after 2 characters I had created in Shaoilin. Jade was planning on giving out an undead shaman and a dead seer in a RP contest. I formed personalites for both of them and a name for the seer whcih I hoped to win. Unfortunately, Jade decided to auction them so my ideas could not come together. As I began my RP with BFK (located here) I first thought him as living, but it was clear she did not. It seemed to fit so perfectly, and it matched the orginal story I'd made for the wolves so well. The only difference now was that I played the other side of the story and there was no magic to keep Aranthos from dying when he would not have before. Other than that, the story remains the same, and the journal contains every bit of it, in some weird and strange ways. It's supposed to be for interpretation, so if you're left imagining, go me!
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2007 9:50 am
A gentle breeze sweeps past, brushing the hair from my face. It is a wonderful feeling, like being alive. Death, then, was a fleeting moment in time that would not come to me, it simply could not. Father rests close by, his eyes trained on the world beyon. My own golden pupils focus on his withred face and skin. Behind me, my four brothers thwist and grumble, upset that they must be present for this ordeal. I give them a sharp glare and a snort of warning, blue flames licking out of my nostrils. It is a trait passed down in our family. One that I have inherited and used to my advantage. I chuckle lightly at them, though they know it is not a friendly sound. I cannot tell whether father is upset or not, nor do I care. This is my day.
"They are late!" I snap, as the sun is just beginning to set in the sky. My hooved sound harsh against the ground, my movements aggravated; Always so very full of impatience. A few good shakes of my head show how very displeased I am. Father says something about being impatient, but I don't wish to hear what he believes. In a few short years he will be dead and I will no longer have to worrry about the bickering of he and his party. My rule will finally be limitless and my brothers will no lnger have a figure to complain to. It brings a coarse smile to my lips and the brothers shift uncomfortabley as they see me watching.
I am distracted momentarily by the deep cracking voice of my father.
"They have come."
Grinning, I turn towards the horizon. If father thinks I cannot sense the bitter dissapointment in his voice, then he is a fool; but there is nothing he can do, this much I know. The eldest is to take the rule. There was only one thing that could have stopped me. It lay in the bauty of women I had taken advantage of sso many times before. Father required royalty from another land to show I knew the ways of peace. Little did he guess that I already had my eye on a brood of the neighboring kingdom. Her hearth promised magic, for she was an empath. However, it was her beauty I lusted after, subtle and pure.
It was she who came now, escorted by five stallions, no doubt personal guards of some form. Her quiet features are easily distinguished from her robust companions. From afar, the sun's gaze upon her back causes her to erupt into flame. I can hear my brother's bite their tongues. I know from every moment on they will long to steal her heart in the night, but it can never be. The glee had has returned to my face, but I stare coldy in her direction, showing no emotion. Her eyes wil not meet mine, she keeps them lowered until the very last moment, as her nose almost touches my own. Her eyes are sharp, hurt, yet trusting.
"Elizabeth." Are the only words I give her.
That soft nose is quickly buried in my neck, as though I was many years her lover. I know most Nequus cannot cry, but I feel my skin wet in that moment and I cannot discern for what reason. Father turns away, his ears slightly pinned and her escorts have no notion of what to do. I do not let her stay clinging as she does, she must learn to be stronger. Instead I turn quickly, jerking my head towards one of my brothers and then towards the stallions. The youngest, Cory, I believe his name is, stares back in disbelief. I flash my canines and raise a brow, daring him to protest. Ahead father's footfalls have stopped, as if he knows something is amiss. I watch him open his mouth to retorn, bite his tongue and turn a head to the situation.
"Have fun in the service, brother," I remark snidely with a kick to the boy's skull as he passes by. We all know what I am sending him to. He is young and inexperienced and in a few years he will perish. The five stallions cast me a shocked look as they lead him away. I do not bother to look at my brothers as I pass by them, being trailed quietly by Elizabeth; I know what each are thinking, but they can't get away with murder now. My body gives a chilling rush and I pause for a moment, allowing Elizabeth to brush against my coat. Carefully I push my lips to her ear, causing her to pause and shudder.
"Night comes soon, as does my heir."
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Posted: Sat Apr 07, 2007 9:34 pm
I sent her off hours ago, even though her eyes pleaded and begged not to go. I merely growled and bit sharply at whaterver I could find before she gave up the fight and left. For many passing shadows I pacted to and fro, crushing whatever was in my path. The trees had suffered my anticipation, and no one seemed to be about. It was wise of them, I suppose, but they would pay for their absence later.
At last the gentle hoofbeats reach my ears. I watch her face very carefully, looking for any sign of that will, for once, maker her worthy. There is nothing, her eyes cannot meet mine and her body quivers.
"What took you so long?" I hiss, the anger in my throat beginning to bubble.
She opens her mouth to speak, but I am already there, my eyes blazing down on her back with whatever I can muster.
"Well?" I wonder aloud, my voice soft for a moment. She raises her head, a spark of hope darting across her eyes. I bitterly take it for rebellion. "Spit it out, mare." The sound comes out wonderfully dark and full of acid. There is another moment of silence that nearly costs her, but at last the cracking voice tries to make a whisper. It sounds to me like a whine, thrusting her back to her rightful place.
Carefully, slowly, she shakes her head. I can see the dissapointment in her as well, but I do not care how she feels. The anger in my body simply cannot be contained. With a choked back growl I lunge forward, digging my teeth into her neck and driving sharply down with my front hooves. I can feel the warmth trickle on my nose as the taste of iron fill smy mouth. Beneath me her body buckeles and she goes down in a heap, the weak creature. I snort, dancing over her body and coming down with a hoof of her ribs.
"Infertile b***h!" the anger roars and I grind my hoof into her skin, watching it break and begin to run red. "You'll be wise to bear me a son," I tell her haughtily, finally releasing her. I carefully wipe my hooves upon the grass, ignoring the sobs she is trying to hold in behind my back. I don't care if she cries, perhaps it is good for her. Whatever reason she tries to hold these pains in, it is her own. She only needs to do one task for me and she is too pathetic to even do that.
"Go wash," I tell her coldly, my back still to her ungrateful body. I hear her bite her tongue and shift onto her side. It must pain her for she stops. "Hurry Up." The shuffling continues and a groan announces that she's risen to her feet. She comes forward for a moment, as if to consolidate whatever wound I have gotten in my heart. "Out!" Her mane stirs as she drops her head and limps gingerly away.
I wait many moments and then follow, carefully, quietly. Whatever she is doing and wherever she goes, I must know. The woman may be mine, but that does not guarantee her obedience.
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Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2007 12:02 pm
"Shh, come here my child."
I hear it. The whisperings of the King. My father. He hasn't yet died, but he dare's to take my wife and comfort her. So this is what it has come to? I know what is coming next, my blood begins to boil, but I must not move forwards. To do so would be discovery. So my breath simply comes quietly, yet angry as I listen.
How long before it becomes to much for even I to handle? Father must die soon, or I'll have to do it for him.
The bark rubs against my side, rough against the fur of my soft face. However, its warped into a scowl, staring lividly at the mare who is supposed to be beside me through it all. I ask for devotion and loyatly, but all I get is fear and weakness. All so petty, so, so petty.
"Don't be afraid." My father's comforting words again. How sick they make me feel!
It doesn't seem to be helping her. She remains fixed on the spot, her body quivering with what may be fear, or malnutrition. She doesn't eat but what I force upon her. Such a fool.
"There is no heir," she says at last, her voice coming out like a sweet spring day. On any other Nequus it would be a bliss, but on her it is a waste. I want to take her now, away, away.
"He does not deserve an heir." His voice his harsh, cold and unnerved. It is clear he fears my presence, what I would do if I discover his rash moves. I can see it on the tip of his tongue as he drags it over his lips. They're parched for speech of rebellion.
Traitor. How very unfatherly of him.
She shakes her head, though whether it is in agreement or disdain I cannot make out. The creatures of the earth are hard to read. My mind reels, but I stay put. Not yet. Patience is a sinners word and I, by far, am a sinner.
"Come, we'll care for the wound." She follows quickly, with one last glance back as if worried I have been following her. However, she is not smart enough to realize I never take the paths. Never.
They vanish from my sight, and I wait a good long moment before heading back to where I should be. There are still many that are loyal. Father is not safe yet.
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Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2007 12:15 pm
The wind is sharp. The sky is overcast, and it would seem that rain is immanent. How very fitting. Fire is drowned by water and earth. Perhaps the glory will keep me happy for a few days.
Doubtful.
"Aranthos?"
His voice is so cold, so unloving. Is his son really that bad? Does my power make you sick father? Have you finally realized, then, that the battle is mine? Does it make you bitter?
Surely you've seen past this lie? But no. You are here, trusting of your son, despite the anguish in your eyes, and the blood that yearns to be spilled. What is your story father?
"Come at last, father?" I sneer, my hooves near the edge of the world, watching and waiting.
"Aranthos, what are you doing up there? Come down so we can talk."
So you can gut me with your horn? Sorry, I'll stay here, where I do the gutting.
"I spoke with our healer." My voice remains cool, almost gleeful at this subject. But I should be, I'm defeating my enemy at his own game and keeping him very, very close. Even from here I can see his eyes widen with fear, or perhaps it is shock. It matters not to me. "Yes, it seems there are those to dig me a grave."
"Surely you must be mistaken." So naive. The lies will not help him. I do not bluff.
"He should be rightfully punished, father?"
"Of course."
He wouldn't dare give any other answer, but there is no concern in his voice. He knows who it was, he knows who should get the punishment. Yet his own bluff would be his downfall.
To late he realizes, and by then I've already shoved my full force onto the earth which lies to precariously near the ledge. It rolls out of my sight and I look on as that crunch seers the sky, followed by the dying gasp of someone I once new or perhaps never did.
I do not bother to look down, only let one small ball of saliva follow him to his end.
"Rest in peace. Father."
Then the skies once more know my presence.
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Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2007 12:46 pm
"Aranthos?"
There was my name again. Halfway in derlium I poke an eye open, just enough to spot Elizabeth. So close it was intoxicating. I close them again shortly after, let her think I am asleep.
However, after several long moments, there is no shuffle of feet. She wasn't leaving and there had been no questions. I flick an ear in agitation.
"What?" I ask her, finally lifting my head and opening both eyes.
She seems to be yearning for something, but all I can discern is the swallow of liquids down her throat.
"Nothing."
I sigh and lay back down. Rest for the weary.
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Posted: Mon Aug 20, 2007 1:22 pm
Smoke fills my nostrils.
For a moment I think nothing of it, but now I am up on my feet. That's when I notice the heat, beads of sweat trickling down to sting my eyes. I let the wind rush through my nostrils, my mind runs for where I am, but its slow.
Some subconscious tells me its from the smoke.
A hiss comes from my throat, eyes rolling up to catch the surrounding area. The foliage, everywhere is aflame. Bright lights, licking at everything they touch.
Out of some stroke of luck I've managed to stay alive for this long. It seems as though the only place I stand is untouched. That's quickly changing.
With a challenge to the raging flames I charge through. There has to be a way out. However, my mind does not think, it is terrified. Death, which has never been so dark to me is suddenly looming over with teeth.
The smoke clouds over my eyes, my feet are burning from the inside, and I can smell the flesh as it begins to boil. Adrenaline rushes and I spur onwards, keeping my head high, which I cannot know is a mistake. The ground moves, I stumble. The ground is so warm. Its all so, so hot.
"ARANTHOS!"
Its the sweet voice, what the hell is she doing here? I must be beyond my senses.
"Out, out!" I scream at her. "You b***h, did you start this?! I'll have your head." I tear off after her, the hatred and regret swimming in a disastrous circle.
"Aranthos, no quiet. You're hurt, oh Reya, you're hurt!" Her voice sounds real. Pained even.
I feel her shoving her face into my rear, I aim a kick, but she's already moved pushing me softly in some direction. Unwillingly my body responds, moving with her, slowly but surely.
Then the forest starts falling.
"Run!" comes her cry above the roar of the fire. I need no second order, and I'm gone, tearing, leaping. Mostly just running away.
- - -
I don't know how much time has passed. My head is swimming, though not in a fashion that is wanted during this time.
Someone has escorted me out, their concern for me apparent. The fire has subsided, though I can barely walk, for its left its mark upon me. I shake my head when they come to my aid, send them all away.
Away.
- - -
It is three days later when news finally comes.
"She went looking for you," they tell me. "She never came back." They add, fear in their voices.
Don't shoot the messenger.
I don't care, they can't know the three words that haunt my senses. She never found me they say, but my mind says she did. For I can still hear them wringing and it leaves me empty to know.
She should have given me an heir.
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Posted: Sun Dec 30, 2007 11:28 pm
He stares back at me, a hard expression on his face. From time to time is six tails flick two and fro. It was my mother who gave me the raw gene, the one for this flowing tail behind. Mother, however, was an entity that only existed in the moral's of my brothers' head. It was not the breeding grounds for success in war or in life, and certainly not when dealing with the situation at hand.
I can feel his body tense and uncoil once more. He's waiting for the word's that he knows will come. Everybody always waits for the words, and it is not just their position that makes them hold their tonuge.
"D-"
"Silence!" I hiss after him, snapping my own tail in anger, and resuming my pacing to and for. He is quicky to cut off his speech, but I know the question he wanted to ask. Beautiful old man fell in love with my mare. Mine, and no one else's.
"That is not for you to know," I growl, contintuing the conversation with myself in my head. When he dies, then and only then will he know her face, but I'm not prepared to let him have it, even in death. There are many souls that are not fit for the afterlife. Cursed to fade away souls. They will be torn apart with the earth and cast into the bowels of a world that does not exist. Far away from where the Speaker's can ever reach them and too near the bond of life not to hear the anguished screams of those that pass on.
They must lead them on into eternity, and never rest themselves. That is their own sacrifice for being a fool in this world.
Some have requested it, feeling it their duty from their sins, but more scream in anguish and refuse to feel the blade.
"Treason, you know the word. Now, swallow it."
And he did swallow. A bitter grin found its way to the corners of my mouth and reared up to slam my hooves into the side of his jaw. I can hear it snap, and it will remain broken forever, even as the dirt is swept over his decaying form.
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Posted: Sun Dec 30, 2007 11:53 pm
"Cory is dead." The news reaches me fairly quickly, I am suprised. I thank the messenger halfheartedly and walk the crumbling stone cliffs to where my brother's are already organized.
"We are to go and get the body," the oldest of the three of them says, glancing up as I appear. I give him one of my well-known smiles, and he wrinkles his nose and frowns in return. The other two brother's have no expressions to give, they only watch every tiny twitch in my muscle. Perhaps they are trying to find some sort of weakness.
"Don't tell me," I say boredly. "They wish for the King himself." It is typical of countries to extend such courtesy. My brother's, no doubt, do not like the situation. They know where the small boy will go, into the ocean or among the same flames that line my coat.
"Under the circumstances it is best you go, yes," the second says.
Alarm hits me. This is not how I expect them to react. I attempt to conceal it, but they no doubt have already noted my apparent delay in steadfast melancholy.
"I shall depart tomorrow," I respond, though they all know it is an answer that leaves to many questions open.
- - -
"Wa' brings you, child of power?" a frail old voice from a frail old creature echoes in my ear. Out of all that exist he is the one I hate most, because I can not touch him, nor ever hope to. He is so close to death himself it is no wonder what kind of joy he receives in talking to them.
"Why aren't you dead yet?" I growl, pushing aside the leather flap that is the entrance to his cave. It is the fur of a Canis and it smells of piss and dank earth. As a child I felt the urge to burn it, but could never bring myself to do so. It was the first battle I lost to the man, and it would mark many more to come.
"Ai, corredia, the spirits have nought a use for meh." His accent his nearly intolerable, the way he uses the words far less so. Any second his grammar will fall out of the loop and he will be whispering nonsense about fruits and blades that will cut your throat. I hate old men.
"b*****d, shut up, and do some spirit weaving," I say at last, my jaw cleching in and out. If this keeps up it will pop right out of its socket. Maybe then I can find somebody to pick it up and beat the sense out of him.
"What b'it?"
"The smallest of the boy's of power." He chuckles then, and I curse myself for using the same words he had to adress me. However, he closes his eyes and begin to hum. The world around my shakes and begins to blow, I can feel my own eyes strain and be pulled. Even amongst this he can speak to me, though he never once opens his eyes.
"You be feeling it, too. Its essence, you contain."
Moments pass by. The sun moves in the sky, but still he says no words, only his humming is my company. I begin to feel breathless out of place and for a moment I can hardly breath.
At last the distance dies away.
"The afterlife does not take him," the old man recites.
For a moment I think he is lecturing me on our code, what was done to my father, but I quickly realize otherwise.
"Then my b*****d brothers will find their death as well."
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 12:01 am
Some unknown Date, thoughts given to the Water
And that is where it ended, all memory, all recollection of thoughts and sounds.
There I was, ready to turn when I blinked and found myself next to a towering tree. I knew it well, it had housed my four brother's and their sanctity. It had housed me and my growing ambition. I knew it too well, but I soon began to realize the pain of leaving it.
Winter was brewing, its winds were blowing that day. They ripped out my insides and I could feel myself gasp at the pain. Memories were ripped from my flesh and I found myself whispering her name. With a curse I managed to drag my form back whence I had come.
Away from the wind, away from what I'd soon learn to be death. There was fear there, then, but it was replaced with an evergrowing numbness that to this day I cannot replace.
Not that it matters. It is just a past, just as this was my past. The days and nights that eventually swept me underneath the rug of a magic weilder. I can still smell that piece of decay now, the only thing I can recall so vividly.
If I exist now, it is only to know that this man will die and to see his face for myself, but though the sun had come and gone for many a time I still have not met another of the same complex.
Questions turn into mist in my head and I no longer seem to care, but there resides that one feeling I must have. I can never escape it, no matter how numb I become.
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Posted: Mon Dec 31, 2007 12:10 am
Shadow PlayCressida looks for her mother, such a pitiful soul. She told me herself, for it was the reason we parted ways. She seems blessed with something called innocence, and I wonder if it will tear her up inside? I forgot to ask her about her lovers, the thought seemed to escape me. That too, should be answered in time, I suppose.
In the mean, I hope the little snare does find her darling mother. I told her my father had my head, which was only half true. In excellence I do not know, but I never saw his head touch the earth and the light leave his eyes.
She was wise not to venture near to where my family would be, they wouldn't take kindly to her. Or perhaps they would take too kindly.
She gave me some knowledge of the times, I must say. The suns have been to many to count, but I know now that the world has been reduced to rubble and the ancient kingdoms no longer break the land in pieces, or she would not and could not be where she was. It is destiny to crumble and fall.
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Posted: Wed Jan 02, 2008 1:01 pm
Irish Folk LoreThis mare was. . . detestable. Really, very much so. Tromping around on my grounds and then having a nerve to be brave on top of it. Tsk, I'll have to do something about it if I see her again.
I left her to explore my 'dead' world, though I cannot see what she believes it to be. It was interesting how she could see me, very interesting indeed - even if it was only slightly. I do not hope to come across more of her sort, I'd prefer to remain invisible.
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