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LaRPS : Legacies Role Play System » [IC] Character Chronicles
The Dream
(2 posts)-
The cat had curled up in her warm safe bed, in the darkness of her home. She was not in the wildwood yet her dreams took her there. The scents, the sounds, the tastes. She could scent the air. She knew she was dreaming as she laid there, she knew she was still home but it was so very real. It reminded her of the night the tree had changed her. Freed her. She began to watch. She could feel the roots again, pulsating as wild hoofbeats came, the scent of freshly broken dirt as the earth cracked under the feet of the horse. A man in armor carrying a sword in hand was riding hard. She did not move but her perspective shifted. She floated beside him as he road. She could smell the blood and sweat and saw his tears. He was racing against time. She noted a circlet around his head, woven gold wire and small red gems, his tears gleaming with flickers of magic and the smell of a glamour. His scent was familiar to her yet she knew she had never met him. She knew this was not her time. The man rode for a while, and she just watched, as the woods faded into a small town, thatched roofs and a style of home that too was familiar to her.
He pulled up on his reigns before a house that had smoke pouring out of it and let out an angry cry, his scots accent undeniable as he leapt from the horse his sword in hand. The animal stayed steady, trained for war clearly. His glamour dropped and she saw his fur then, his ears and face. He was like her. She floated with him still, as he kicked in the door, a spark of magic aiding this. "Fia, Moira?" There was silence in answer to his cry for his family. She wondered at her knowing it was his family. His fur was as inky as her own, his eyes a deep green, and his wings a golden color that mirrored his hair. She just watched as he mounted his tired animal again. He had fallen into a silent composure that left him quite imposing. His magic sparked around him in white and gold flashes as he rode now, it was like lightening in the air to be near him. She whispered, "You are not alone..." He looked at her and snarled, "It is not your battle child, your time is yet to come. Learn the lesson."
She would stay silent after that. Fascinated that he knew she was there. The magic around her was very real. She wondered if this was really a dream then. She would still let the magic carry her through his story. She wanted to ask him a million questions but waited instead. It was back through the woods, so familiar to her, he passed a tree. No... the Tree. Ygssidril. She felt it's magic her own jumping as she felt it sing past. He rode his animal until it collapsed. He simply cut it's throat, the ruby drops of blood pooling under it as he whispered in fae to the beast, thanking it. She floated along, as he left a trail of red. They approached a castle, with it's gates open. She could see from here what he sought, in the court yard tied to a stake was a woman with red hair. Her hair blew in a breeze but she was unmoving. She too smelled of fae, once they were near enough to pick up on this. She did not look at all like the cat man or Mo but just a woman.
The man she haunted walked into this court yard and shouted, "You wanted me, so you took them! I am here." He stood combat ready. There was just silence. He did not approach the woman but tested the area with his magic. A web tarp surrounded the woman, ready to set her aflame should he touch her. Mo felt horrified realizing what this meant. The other fae opened her eyes at the shout, they were a blue with the narrow pupils of a cat. Cait Sidhe. They were both the cat fae. She looked to Mo and smiled, whispering, "She came..." The cat looked behind her and found no one. She flattened her ears and spoke, "Why?" Yet she received no answer. Instead a man stepped from the shadows. His long black hair hung in a braid, his own armor gleaming gold and silver, he looked every bit the dashing knight from the romantic paintings of the aesthetic movement. He held in his hand a thin band of metal. The man screamed in rage, "You took her circlet? How DARE you violate my wife!"
The man in armor looked over the little band and laughed, "Oh yes, I own her now. She's my slave Connor. Just as you and yours will be. Do you wish her to live?" The cat man did not bother answering, instead he looked to his wife, "Moira, what has he done?" The female did not answer, she just hung her head in shame. The cat let out a feral snarl, "What has he DONE!" The man in armor laughed and Connor lunged for him swinging his blade with a healthy amount of skill. The man in armor ducked and blocked with the circlet. It shattered and that was when the dream shifted and swirled. It was as if the world had exploded, magic shooting from the woman, triggering the fire yet she never screamed. Instead she was with Mo now just watching. She spoke, "This is when we lost ourselves. Connor was the last free King... and I was the Fallen Queen. My dear one, my own husband slew me with his own outrage at my pain." The female spirit ran her fingers through Mo's hair. The cat stiffened and murmured, "You could see me?" The fallen Queen nodded, "Oh yes. While waiting for Connor I cast all of my magic into bringing you here. I did not know who would come, from when but the next free leader of the Cait Sidhe. The next King or Queen to walk free." Mo would chuff a bit, "I am not a queen. I am an elected official." The fallen queen laughed softly and would look back to the battle, Connor was hacking at the man in his rage as the keep burned around them. Mo had not seen where the aggressor had gained a sword. She asked, "Who is he?" Moira murmured, "Edmund Harlington. He wishes the fae land, fae power but is mortal. He has the rest of the clan in an iron cage downstairs. He will not free us... we will live there forever should my husband loose." Mo would narrow her eyes, "Harlington... it is not forever, just life times." The Fallen Queen smiled, "I died knowing that child. You are free. You are here."
Mo frowned all the more, Harlington Circus had fallen beneath her claws... yet they had once born the markers of Nobility? Her own people she had known were royalty but to her this meant nothing. She watched the men fight. Connor fought very well, his movements graceful and fluid. Harlington however fought without honour and this would cost her ancestor his life. The man cried out at a small cut, "Iron! You bastard!" She remembered the burn of iron too well. Unlike Mo, Connor was not used to it and slowed rapidly. His skill bore out but it was clear he was dying. Blood began to seep from his eyes and ears. He impaled his foe on his blade and collapsed onto his side. A small red haired cat with white fur crept out then, as both men laid there possibly dying. "Fiona..." Connor whispered."Let the others out." The little girl would let out a scared sound and crept closer to her father. Harlington held up another circlet, this one was ornate, gems sparkled on the metal band, it was silver and blue a thing of utter beauty. "I am afraid your heir is mine." The man put the circlet on his head, it shifted with magic to fit. The child let out a whimper and went utterly still before she knelt at the feet of her captor. Mo let out a feral growl and the spirit beside her whispered, "It is past. It is why." Connor had growled in time to Mo lashing out at the human that dared enslave his people. "The keep and your child are mine Connor." He was bleeding badly but the little cat began to tend his wounds, sobbing as she did. "She has no choice and you know this as well as I. She's a slave. My sons will keep your people, and their sons. Just think... a life time in that cage. The Cait Sidhe are no more and I have had my revenge!"
Connor forced himself to his feet, the skin that showed in his inner ear and his nose was paling and he panted from the effort. "Revenge? We did NOTHING to you Harlington!" The human spat, "You LIVED! You denied me what I wanted! That tree, you protected it and none can harm it, but it must be destroyed!" Connor swayed using his sword to hold himself up, his head tipped up and his eyes wild with rage. He kept his temper in check and laughed. It was a bitter laugh that sent a chill through Mo. "I curse you with my blood that is my magic. Your children will lose everything they have, they will bleed, die and suffer. Noble? You will fall from grace before your own royals. You will lose this land. You will not be able to stay in Scotland, nor shall your blood until mine is restored to freedom." He looked to his daughter, "Survive. Teach them to survive. I will use the last of my strength to protect the line. Be a good Queen Fiona, and forgive your father his failure." He turned and limped towards the woods with that. Edmund laughed, not willing perhaps or able to understand that the spell woven in blood he himself shed would take effect. HIstory bore that out for Mo and her people.
Connor walked for hours, light became darkness, his blood trail lead past his fallen horse, it was just he and his sword. Night then became the dawn hour. The sun waking to rise but night still creating a cloak. He knelt at the tree, that sacred Tree that tied all worlds together. He placed a paw on it, his blood seeping into the earth. He did not have much power left. "With my life, I give the power to hide the circlets that mark my people, and chain their bodies and will if taken. Let the nobility of the Cait Sidhe fade until they achieve freedom. Our Lore will be lost until one wakes with you once more." He removed his circlet, set his sword down and whispered, "The enchanted sword of the King..." He pulled a dagger that matched off , "The dagger," Then he pulled a third blade, "The short sword of the protector." The blades became part of the tree. The circlet laid there on the stone, gleaming with a cold light, and faded slightly as he began to struggle all the more. He took his claws to his chest then digging into his body. He lost more blood and nearly fainted as he willed the last of his life into magic, "The sacred path through time, will be open once more when the free one takes the steps. They can regain the lore and what was lost but with a cost as heavy as mine." With that he tore out the crystaline heart. The heart of the fae at first appeared as any other creature but as his life seeped into the ground and hisbody faded, Mo saw for him it was a spark of flame that had been his power. That too faded, then the circlet. The tree shuddered in response to his sacrificial magic, she could feel it in her core. The tree... she stared at it and remembered her awakening.
The world fell to darkness then, the dream that was not lost to her. Mo woke in her bed. Warm. Safe. Aware of all she had lost. Her eyes gleamed in the faint light of her bedroom as she whispered, "No..." Denying what she knew already. She did not want what had been offered in her dreams, though she knew too that the price had been paid in many ways. She felt the roots entrapping her, a wholly unpleasant sensation.
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((beautiful - merit given))
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