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 Posted: Sun Apr 15, 2007 1:41 pm
She passed underneath the archway that made the cave entrance, and walked along the path. No one else was allowed in her cave unless the matter was important, and even if they did think the matter important they would need to know exactly which paths to take. She took a left at the first forked path, knowing the way by heart. The waning light did little to aid her journey through the cave, as the inner part of the cave barely ever saw the light of day. She turned once more, and the light from outside the cave was extinguished. She made several more turns she knew by heart, travelling slowly, even though she could've made the trip with her eyes closed. As she made one of the last few turns, she saw a faint glow of light on the cave floor. After the last turn, her eyes fell upon her destination. A secret glade lay before her, with a lovely blanket of grass growing in the middle and reaching out to the very sides of the cave wall. Near one side was a small pond, nourishing the grass surrounding it. The ceiling stretched up very high, and near the top was a vast hole. If one flew up to look out of it, they would see a peak of the mountain that stretched up higher than the peak that made up the ceiling of her secret glade. But the large skylight did let in the light of the sun and the moon, as well as rain to nourish the grass growing inside the cave as well as fill the pond. The skylight was very large indeed, but not large enough to allow a nequus in flight to pass through. They would have to be daring, indeed, to descend through the hole into the inner part of the cave. They would need to fold their wings to their sides to be able to pass through, as the wingspan of their breed wouldn't be able to pass through. A foal could manage to fly in, she had decided long ago, but no foal would be able to manage to fly across the red mountains of Fyhi tel Oren and find the upper entrance to her secret cave. It was like finding a needle in a haystack.
She stepped into the cave with a sigh, enjoying the feel of the soft grass beneath her hooves instead of hard rock and dust. As she gazed up through the skylight, she saw the pale moon as it hung lazily in the dark, velvet sky. The stars were just starting to appear, and a few of the pinpoint lights were already visible. It was a clear night, with no clouds, as well. At least, as far as she could tell. She extended first one wing to stretch it, then folded it back against her side and extended the other, doing the same. That done, she stretched out each leg in turn, and a tired yawn escaped her. She stepped over to the small pond, lowering her head to drink some of the water. Today had been such a long day.
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Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2007 6:09 am
 It was probably not done to follow a Queen to her secret hideaway. However, Mordre considered to himself as he padded quietly into the hidden oasis, it was also not done to be entertaining the affections of said Queen when she was already bound to a rather ill-tempered mate. Besides, it wasn't the first time he'd done this. He'd cloaked himself in air as usual, made himself invisible so that no one else should find the route to the Queen's hiding place. That was the important part. Commoners shouldn't just wander in whenever they felt like it.
He was a special case.
Approaching the reflecting pool where the Queen was quietly drinking, he let the illusion shimmer into nothing. He had no illusions with Savit'Taren. She knew his true face, and he did not insult her intelligence by appearing as a colt. That was for the rest of the herd. Mavasu and the other big stallions could go on thinking he was a scrawny little pipsqueak for as long as they wished: it was all in his favour. And it kept the mares off his back, those that didn't fear or loathe him. No one in their right mind would attempt to court a little colt.
And no one in their right mind, he thought to himself, waiting for Savit'Taren to spot him, would ever even dream that the same little colt would attempt to court a Queen.
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Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2007 1:45 pm
The Queen paused after her long drink, raising her head to gaze up out of the skylight. An ear flicked backwards, towards the cave entrance, as she heard the soft sound of tentative hoofsteps. She turned her head just in time to see Mordre appear out of the air; another of his illusory tricks she was quite familiar with. A smile lighted her face, and she turned to face him instead of her small pond. "I didn't know that I'd been followed. Then again, being invisible would prevent that," she said with a light chuckle." The smile still remained on her muzzle as she studied him. A tall, strong stallion, the same height as she, and much more impressive than any other stallion she'd met before. Although he was adorable as a colt, she knew that was another illusion of his to fool the herd, he had told her about it before.
"Why is it that you always come here cloaked by the air, Mordre? Is it that you want to catch me by surprise, or is it for another reason?" She couldn't help but ask. She knew it wasn't that he didn't want her to see him, she gave him much more credit than that. No one knew about her secret hideaway, save for herself and Mordre, as well as Mavasu but he hardly ever paid her visits there, only during emergencies. Mordre's visits were much more frequent and welcome than the former's, and he actually knew how to reach the inner cavern. Mavasu, she knew, needed directions and always ended up getting lost in the darkness and in the series of pathways. Commoners, she knew, would probably get lost as soon as they set foot in her cave, and probably never find their way out again unless they had a guide. Oh well, it didn't matter to think of such things. She had better things to think about now. Much better things.
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Posted: Mon Apr 16, 2007 2:11 pm
The illusionist chuckled. He hadn't expected to hear that question voiced: in fact, he had thought the answer rather obvious. "Surprise must be more carefully crafted after a long acquaintance," he said smoothly, "and you and I have known one another for many years now. No, I fear the answer to your question is far more practical than that. You walked here so casually, and I followed you. Why should I not imagine that some other less scrupulous fellow might follow after me in turn?" He bowed his head with a gentle, knowing expression. "The Queen is not to be disturbed after a long day of tireless toil in the name of her subjects, my dear Savit'Taren...unless, of course, by one who knows - and here I flatter myself - how to disturb without disturbing at all. ...And, I hasten to add, I should rather avoid giving Mavasu any measure of the frequency of my visits."
A butterfly fluttered past on silent wings. Mordre sent another one after it, frowning at the detail as it passed his nose. Something as intricate as an insect was difficult to make convincing up close. At twenty paces he could do a swarm of them. At two paces he struggled with even one.
"But come," he said, letting the butterfly vanish, "what news of the day? Are there any concerns, any little matters with regard to which I might set my Queen's worries aside? Or even any anecdotes to amuse we poor mortals, while the gods spend every hour chortling at our expense?"
It was all to amuse her, of course. He didn't need to be so extravagant with his words or to exaggerate his tone so greatly, but he had learned that it sometimes made her laugh.
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Posted: Thu Apr 19, 2007 4:12 pm
The brindled mare couldn't help but laugh. "I knew your intention wasn't to surprise, Mordre, I just never considered that I would ever be followed by anyone other than you or Mavasu. However, more often than not, it's you and not he that I am followed by," she said with a gentle smile. "Still, it's very considerate of you to be so careful on my behalf. But why anyone else would follow me, I can't imagine. And yes, you very well may flatter yourself," she added with an amused laugh, "as you are the sole one in this herd with the ability to disturb without disturbing at all."
Her eyes were focused on the small illusion as it fluttered past on painted wings; she did so love his butterflies, what with their many-colored wings and beautiful designs. They looked almost exactly like the real ones up close, and even though they weren't perfect, that was to be expected. Nothing and no one could ever become so. With a blink or two after her focal point suddenly vanished, her eyes returned to her visitor and her soft smile returned. Why he bothered to talk in such a way and why he used such words in front of her and no other wasn't hard to figure out. "All is well within the herd today, thankfully, although I heard rumors among the citizens that another foreign herd is heading for our borders. Not so much to invade on purpose, I think, than to simply move to a different area." Another smile lighted her face - the previous one had disappeared when she began to speak of the rumors - and she stepped over away from the small, round pool and towards him. "That is my only concern or worry for the herd, at the moment. Another, more immediate concern is," she began with a playful smile, "how long you will make your visit tonight."
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Posted: Fri Apr 20, 2007 6:21 am
Ah. Now that was a more pleasant concern. "As long as I can get away with, my Queen," the illusionist murmured in answer, "and as long as you wish me to. 'Cai will await me for as long as he has to - he's a good lad - but if Mavasu shows his muzzle here I hope you will excuse my making myself scarce as swiftly and as...invisibly as possible."
He darted his eyes back and forth a couple of times for comic effect. There was something delightfully amusing about all this sneaking around, and even more so about pulling the wool over Mavasu's eyes. Mordre had never liked the big brute, not least because he did not seem to appreciate what he had in Savit'Taren. The queen was a jewel, a jewel, and the great fool had left her in the dust. Tch. Well, his loss.
"I do not like to imagine the consequences if he were ever to discover us," he said, a little more seriously than before. "While I am certain I could eventually deal with him, and would do so at whatever cost, I do not like the thought of any threat to you."
That was probably the closest he would ever come to saying "you are dear to me". Mordre was an odd creature in that respect - he found it hard sometimes to say exactly what he meant, as though his magic had somehow seeped into his voice and was concealing the truth from the world. It irked him. He set a lot of store by truth.
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Posted: Fri Apr 20, 2007 7:21 am
A bright chuckle escaped the queen as she listened to and watched Mordre as he spoke. "Of course I would excuse you if you needed to make yourself scarce. I wouldn't want Mavasu to catch you here," she said more solemnly. She knew from his actions and what he said to her on certain occasions that Mordre indeed care very deeply for her, even though he could only say it in indirect ways. It didn't bother her, however, that he couldn't say how he truly felt in a straight way, because she knew how he felt without him having to say it at all.
"I don't like to imagine it either. It is a wonderful and terrible thing to me that you would be willing to fight Mavasu. Wonderful, and yet terrible as I wouldn't desire any harm to come to you by fighting him. I know how well you can illustrate your illusions, and although you have your powers to assist you, he would be able to see through at least some of them, and I would feel absolutely awful if he were to hurt you," said she in a soft, gentle tone. It was probably the fact that she couldn't directly convey her true feelings that caused her to be fine with Mordre not being able to do the same.
"But, come, let us speak of more pleasant things," said the brindled claybank with a gentle smile. "There's a time and place for everything, and this is neither the time nor the place for such solemn speeches. I would be delighted if you would stay as long as possible. I do so love your visits, Mordre," said she with a genuine smile at the grulla stallion before her.
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Posted: Fri Apr 27, 2007 12:14 pm
It was typical, Mordre thought to himself, that he could think of nothing to say that was both cheerful and of interest. Gently nudging the Queen's shoulder with his nose, he moved to settle on the grass beside the oasis.
"Then how shall I entertain, dear one?" he said softly. "Surely my presence alone is hardly enthralling. What wonders would you have me show tonight? What tales of adventure would you hear told?"
As if to illustrate his intentions, he reached out with his magic and painted a moving image in the air - a galloping Jala, tearing across a vast desert of red sand beneath a star-filled sky.
"And what hero, my dear, shall take centre stage? Whose noble exploits shall grace our council of dreams?"
The Jala was racing ahead of a column of dark Nequus-like figures, leading them on through the night.
"Or perhaps my Queen shall tell the tale...and I shall render it in colour for her as she speaks."
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Posted: Mon Apr 30, 2007 6:00 pm
"Ah, you do not know how enthralling your presence alone is," she said with a mischievous smile, twitching her wings to a more comfortable position and moved closer to the oasis with him. She carefully laid herself down beside him, paying attention not to hurt a limb by laying on it wrong or getting pressed on one of her many pieces of jewelry too hard, and also not to rip the delicate and intricate tapestry that hung across her back. How it stayed on, even in flight, was a mystery to her.
"A noble hero, of course," said the Queen with a smile, leaning against her illusionist gently. She nuzzled his jaw softly as she watched the Jala race ahead of the herd that followed, her dark eyes filled with wonder, fixed upon the image created by the stallion beside her.
"Could you tell the story, please? I do so love the tales you weave. They're almost as good as your illusions, if not equal to them," she said with a smile, hoping to compliment him. All of the images he created had always completely enthralled her; all the way from the large, galloping herd with their leader, face set with a determined expression as he raced off towards his destination where he was needed most, down to the delicate little butterflies, their wings painted every color she could imagine and more, fluttering and dancing in the wind.
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Posted: Fri May 04, 2007 4:02 pm
Mordre smiled inwardly. He had just the tale for this occasion, one he'd had from 'Cai. A good lad, that one, with an ear for a fine yarn.
"Then let it be..."
The illusion swept forward towards the galloping Jala, highlighting his noble features and his expression of purpose.
"...Hidalgo."
There was something about the name that had stirred a sense of patriotism in Mordre's cynical old heart. Hidalgo, as the tale went, had been a hero among heroes for the Jala, and the legends of his exploits were spread far and wide: it was hard not to feel proud of one's race when someone like him was in one's history. As the illusionist began his tale, his image shifted, changing to a sun-parched landscape at sunrise. Only sparse areas of grass were visible, and it was nothing like the paradise of Eden.
"A long, long time ago, as the tale goes, in a land far away, where the sweet grass and clear waters of Urin were but a distant dream, Nequus lived in scattered tribes. It was a hard existence, with little food and water to go around, and many of them perished either from starvation or in battles for the right to feed. Only the strongest of herds survived, and one of these - small, but tenacious - was led by a stallion called Hidalgo."
While Mordre had been speaking, the eyes of the illusion had been panning across the plain, finding a small herd, and now they fixed upon the leader as he raised his head, ears turning in search of danger.
"He was not the brightest of his kind, and nor had he the loveliest voice. He was not the tallest, nor the strongest, and nor could he sway every creature he met with words or actions. He made mistakes, and he sometimes stumbled and fell. But he had a good, kind heart, and three great qualities that had made him leader of his herd: he was honest, he was brave, and he could run. Oh yes, my Queen...Hidalgo could run like no other Nequus in the world."
And indeed, even as Mordre spoke of this last and most famous strength, the image of Hidalgo could be seen racing across the dusty ground. The stallion's eyes were full of the exhilaration of speed, and on his face was an expression of fierce, wild exultation.
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Posted: Mon Jul 09, 2007 10:16 pm
"Hidalgo," she echoed, watching the illusion closely. The brindled Queen studied the illusion across from them, rapt in the beauty of the scene. Her eyes traveled over the herd and over their leader. Indeed, no one was perfect, she agreed, but everyone had something about them that they excelled in. Hidalgo, so it appeared, had his honesty, bravery, and especially, his speed. Certainly, the look in his eyes told of his inward strengths. His legs, in addition, could tell stories themselves of his fleet-footed accomplishments. She shifted slightly and rested her head against Mordre's neck, her eyes fixed on the illusion the stallion beside her continued to paint for her enjoyment. "He sounds like a magnificent leader, Mordre," she said, ears perked forward to catch everything her Illusionist said. "Please, tell me more about this Hidalgo, the most fleet of foot the world has ever seen." This story certainly seemed to be, so far, one of the most interesting the Queen had heard thus far, and with Mordre's magnificent storytelling abilities, that was quite something.
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