The Coltaran Chronicles: Chapter 1, Dark Moon Rising [Coltara] (OPEN)

[Valencetiger]

Silvan watched the broken pegasus in silence. He had seen this sort of thing before...the way many acted when they had lost something so dear to them, or had suffered to an extent beyond what any mere pony should. An image flashed in his head, a mare's face gazing down into a pit filled with strands of darkness. Wearing a gown of moon-silver thread, a mare of beauty above that which any mortal mare could ever hope to possess. She always appeared to him in his dreams lately, showing him this same pit, showing him exactly what laid beneath the shadowy depths. Every night, her words haunted him; "...it is time for those long dead to awaken. He draws closer to the surface...his tendrils lashing out at the damned. Tell me, Silvan...will you remember your true name at the end of this...? There will come a time...when you must make a decision. Embrace the warm glow of Light...or cast it aside for the cold presence of Dark?. Shaking the memory away from his head, he approached Soul cautiously, gently lifting him up and letting him lean on his flank.

"...no, Soul. If anyone is weak here, it is I. I've learned that it is alright to weep...that it is alright to mourn for those who we have lost. It is all a part of being equine. In Coltara, we are taught to seek emotional detachment, because of all the horrible things that happen. That is wrong...so wrong...we shouldn't give up our hearts simply because they might be broken. Oh, but listen to myself...! Talking like some old philosopher...surely I could use a few coltish things to set me straight, right?" He offered a smile to the emotionally-wounded pegasus, waiting for his answer as they made their way back toward camp. Glancing at the dark weapon at Soul's side, he frowned. Here, he could openly feel the weapon's supernatural energy...and could tell that it isn't any mere Aishanidari. He had heard of certain Aishanidari carrying on aspects of their previous owners...but if that was the case, who wielded Necrosa Timori before Soul? Setting the question away for later, he focused on the path ahead.

Silvertongue frowned for a second at Dusk's words, but he perked back up at Gallows' groans. "I couldn't have said it better myself, Gallows. If you want to hear something positive...alright then! How about I tell you the time I first went to Riptide Bay...? Ah, it was beautiful back then...still is, today. It was back when I arrived to visit an old uncle of mine, and as you said...they do have quite the salty wenches! The sailors, the civilians, why...! Even the soldiers all seemed happy and content with their lives! It was like nothing bad has ever happened in Riptide Bay...and I could almost believe it. Hay, I fell in love with my first mare there...she was quite the beauty. As changing and vengeful as the ocean, while retaining all its charm and grace. In Riptide Bay...they have a special dance, reserved for lovers due to the..." He coughed. "...obscene movements. It is named the Cinca Ueva...a fitting name in the Ancient Dialect. She chose me as her partner, which I could hardly believe. Within moments we were the main event, swirling and gliding across the floor, gathering a wooing crowd of which you'd never have seen in Ashen Gate. Soon enough, everypony began to join in...and I enjoyed myself. Dancing into the evening, I knew it couldn't last...for I was about to go on the hunt for the last dragon in Coltara."

After saying that last bit, he fell silent, gazing into the flames in the center of the camp. That night...he would never forget it...especially with how it ended. He finished the story with how she already had a suitor, and that she simply wasn't available to him. However...that wasn't the case. He had taken her to his bed, and hoped to have relations with the pretty mare, but what he got instead was a knife between the ribs and a broken heart. Now that he thought about it...his life was just one tragic event after another...and in a way, it was depressing in itself.

(OOC: Hey guys ^^' I'm sorry for my inactivity, but school has been killing me lately, and I've simply haven't had the time. From now on, I will only be able to make posts and such during the weekends...but later into the school year that might change. So...due to this being the 100th Post on the Coltaran thread I will have the special event planned and ready for you all this Friday! So, please be patient, and take care!)

[TotalEcplise]

Soul leaned into Silvan for support, emotional and physically drained, he let his mind wander. He had never leaned on somepony and never had he counted on another for support. Everything from his training told him that he should feel weak and vulnerable, but instead he felt safe, protected, and even uplifted. It both surprised and confused him that somepony had come out this far, though he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want the company. Anything that would take his mind off of his his past was better than staring at the night sky. The stars, he thought. They look so close, but you'll never lay a hoof on them. The ultimate taunt. Soul released the breath that he was unconsciously holding and banished his Aishanidari. With what small amount of strength he had regained Soul Slasher, righted himself and tried to walk on his own four hooves, only to fall back into Silvan. The pegasus huffed angrily and tried to walk on his on again, this time succeeding.

"Life talks don't suit you. At all." Soul said said jokingly.

[Valencetiger]

Silvan laughed at Soul's comment, shrugging in his reply. "True...so true. To be honest, my father was always the one giving advice...and he got his from Silvertongue. Maybe I will have words of wisdom myself one day, but I suppose I am too young as of now." A few memories winded through Silvan's head, bringing many happy moments and some tragic ones as well. Perhaps one of the strongest events was when he had witnessed his first execution, something that was customary on a Prince's tenth winter. The pain he had seen in the Emperor's eyes as the criminals were executed remained burned into the memory, turning to the dangling corpses hanging from their ropes. Back then, he thought it was a natural occurrence, something that any pony who disobeyed the Law would suffer. Now...now he knew that wasn't always true. Breaking free from the memory, he motioned to the campfires further down the mountain with his hoof.

"Let's head back...we'll need our rest tomorrow. I assume you can walk all the way there, yes?" Glancing at Soul's form to make an evaluation of the pony's strength, he figured that it wasn't likely. So, he remained close to Soul, just in case the pegasus needed help.

[TotalEcplise]

"Who knows, maybe one day you'll find your big stallion voice. You know, become an inspiration to ponies." Though he spoke in jest he felt that those words were more true than he expected. Soul could easily see the charismatic young stallion standing in front of a crowd rousing them with a heartfelt speak. It made Soul wonder what the empire would be like if the young prince was in charge instead of his mother.

"Yeah, I think I can manage," He said as he stumbled away from Silvan and steadied himself. "Thank you Silvan," Soul said shakily. "But if you don't mind me asking, why'd you come out here?"

[Valencetiger]

"I saw you wander away from the camp in a fit...so I thought I should make sure you were alright. Good thing I did...otherwise we might have found you buried under snow." Silvan replied immediately, for it was the basic truth...and also, he wanted to see a few more of Soul's abilities, so he could get an estimate on how dangerous the pegasus was. Yes, Soul was a rather unstable pony, but he had a good heart...so perhaps he could be helped? After a short time, they arrived back at camp, the others having already fell asleep. Going into his tent, he wished Soul a good night's sleep, and turned off the lantern inside.

Hours later, the sun would rise from the landscape, it's red and orange glow illuminating the land, lengthening shadows and making a cascade of lights. Silvan had already awoke, due to another nightmare, and was busy taking down camp, Silvertongue getting up shortly afterward and helping the young prince clean up the fire-pit and gathering any materials that could be salvaged.

"We should be at the temple by noon, if we leave soon and there are no complications. The Weather-Beacon isn't picking up any storm activity, so we shouldn't have to worry about a sudden blizzard...but in any case, we'll have to remain careful."

"Of course. However...there is something I've been meaning to ask you. How do you think the monk's will treat your arrival to their sanctuary?"

"They will treat me as any other pony, because I am simply another foal of Astral in their eyes, and will not require any special treatment...I'm no better than a beggar in Ashen Gate's many streets to them, and I am fine with that. All we'll be doing is asking for the Sage that we need...and then make our proposal. Simple, yes?"

"...if you say so, your Highness." Silvertongue voiced quietly, moving away to check on one of the other Qai'Maga they had brought with them, a Weather-Beacon. It still had a holographic sun shining in it's center, so there would be little chances of a storm. Picking it up and placing it in one of his satchels, he began to move around and wake up the other ponies in their group.

[TotalEcplise]

"I guess being frozen alive wouldn't exactly help our journey now would it?" He said as they made their way back to camp. Soul was no fool, being versed in deception and reading ponies he could tell that Silvan was only telling him half the story. It wasn't that big of a deal though, Soul sensed no maliciousness from him, only curiosity. Necrosa Timori was a part Soul and he felt Silvan's glace, regardless of how fleeting it was.The two made it back to camp and Soul returned Silvan's good night wishes.

Soul removed his cloak and body suit, so that he could get more comfortable. Soul actually slept comfortably to the night, a rare occurrence for the pegasus. He was probably too drained to dream of anything, but he did feel a little different. Not quite happiness, but close.

The sun rose and bathed Soul's face in warm yellow rays. After stirring weakly for a few minutes the pegasus packed his things and exited the tent. Silvan and Silvertongue had the forethought to bring shelter so the least he could do was deconstruct the tent and leave it in a neat little square for them to pick up. Soul removed a mirror, a brush, a toothbrush, a towel, and some toothpaste from his bag. He leaned the mirror on rock and looked at himself hard, his mane was a mess and his coat was matted in a few places. Time to get to work. He squeezed some toothpaste out and got to work oh his dental hygiene, while at the same time brushing his mane and coat (in an extremely accurate and practiced manner) until they both regained their prior style and sheen. He spat out the toothpaste in his mouth and took a hoof full of snow and clean off his toothbrush. Taking another hoof of snow he wet his towel and cleaned his face off. Soul placed all the items back into his saddlebags and put on his body suit and cloak. Ready to move out at a moments notice, he took to sitting near the edge of the camp. He reached back into his bag and pulled out a bag of dried fruit and started to munch on it as he waited for the others.

[Deactivated]

After half listening to the tale that the Nightingale had to tell, Dusk picked up the pickhammer and stood. “Well, this has been just grand,” he said without really meaning it,” but I’m afraid that sleep calls. Good night to you all and may you wake in the morning” he said to the two ponies who were still by the fire. He walked off without waiting for a response. He stopped at his bedroll and saddlebags, setting the hammer down within short reach and he lied down on his bedding. He pulled a blanket over top of himself, even though he didn’t need it with the bracelet around his leg. Thanks to a long day of walking up the mountain, he fell asleep fairly soon after.

He awoke when Silvan and his Nightingale went around the camp waking them. Dusk felt better having had a night’s worth of sleep, but he did not look forward to walking the rest of the way up the mountain. With a sigh he lifted himself off the ground. He reached into his saddlebag and took out a mirror, then walked off into the woods. He stopped when he was far enough away from the camp as not to be spotted. He propped the mirror up with a rock so he could look at himself in it. His mane had several new knots tied in it, and his tail was a bedraggled mess. The rest of him was fairly dirty, no doubt thanks to all the walking he did yesterday. He tsked at his reflection. Having grown up with a surgeon as a father had taught Dusk that cleanliness truly was close to godliness.

He lowered his head so his horn was parallel with the ground. He felt a thrill and disgust as he took hold of the magic. He focused and small arcs of electricity skittered up and down his horn. His hair lifted and waved, untangling itself, surrounded by a grey aurora. The dirt on his coat lifted out, also surrounded by a grey aurora. He enjoyed using magic, even for something as simple as this. Fairly soon, his coat was clean again, his tail was back to being straight and sharp, and his mane was still disheveled, but not in any knots. He smiled down at his now clean reflection.

[Penblade]

Gallows yawned as he stared up at the stars, half listening to Silvertongue and half drifting off to sleep. It seemed last night’s late night escapade was finally catching up with him. The story was quite a good one; just raunchy enough to keep his interest, but leaving plenty to the imagination. That night he dreamed of dancing mares and salty air, feeling the sea breeze on his face as he walked the docks and jetties of Riptide Bay.

In the morning Gallows awoke with great reluctance. In his dream he’d just managed to get the mare from Silvertongue’s story to his cabin aboard his mighty galleon, but Phoebus’ accursed globe seemed to think he didn’t deserve the pleasure of her company. He cracked his eyes open and groaned loudly, and much like a child, as the sun stabbed light straight into his brain. “Urgh! Stupid sun, always waking me up. Interrupting my dreams. Destroying my fantasies.” He grumbled fitfully as he rolled onto his hooves, having fallen asleep right beside the fire.

His mood improved as he stretched luxuriously, feeling many of his vertebrae pop and crack into proper alignment after a night of disuse. “Awe yeah, that’s the good stuff.” He sighed fitfully and looked around, seeing the others going about their daily grooming rituals. He decided it was about time he cleaned up too.

He twisted his tongue around and licked the front of each tooth twice, then spat into the bushes when he was done.

Spotlessly clean, he trotted over to Silvan and Silvertongue, “Morning kid. Morning, Silver.” A split second pause was the only indication that Gallows had to stop himself from saying ‘old man.’

[Valencetiger]

Silvan nodded his greeting, as did Silvertongue. The former Nightingale turned to glance down the mountain slopes, checking to see if there was anypony coming up. It was a natural tendency of his to look for such things, but he frowned at himself. No pony was going to come after them...not now, and probably not ever, unless the entire Imperial Family died. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he turned to see the exiled Prince slowly trotting up the ancient road that led to the Sanctuary of Skies. Sighing, the aged warrior followed after his young charge.

"...you know, I've been having my doubts..." Silvan spoke as Silvertongue drew close. "...what the Empress did that day, it didn't seem like her. She was...different. I cannot explain why, but...it felt like she had a shadow encircling her. Also...the smile on my sister's face...it seemed like she had orchestrated my exile, but I wasn't sure. What I cannot fathom is why she had me exiled, rather than simply be rid of any chances and have her pet Black Moon kill me."

"Perhaps...perhaps she simply couldn't stand killing her younger brother, hmm?" The words tasted bland in Silvertongue's mouth...for he knew exactly why the Princess hadn't murdered her brother. It wasn't just a blow against her opposition for the throne...but it was also a strike against the Empress. "...you know, Floweressa is rather clever for a filly her age. Removing you from the equation this way was quite the ploy, if you think about it." Silvan nodded, frowning at the glaring sun above them.

"...we had better finish this business soon, before the snows begin to melt. That...will end badly." Turning, he whistled down to the others, calling for them to follow as he continued back up the path.

[TotalEcplise]

Soul's ears perked up at the sound of Silvan's whistle. His days as the empire's butcher had fined tuned him to have certain automated reactions to specific stimuli. The sharp sound entered his ears and penetrated deep into his subconscious, his body couldn't ignore the call to regroup . Soul was deep in thought as his body navigated it's way over Silvan and Silvertongue. He fell in line with the two stallions, matching their pace perfectly as he let his mind wander. The body was scanning, ready to react to any threat, but his head was in the clouds.

Soul tried to look at anything to give his mind some focus, but nothing really worked.

[Deactivated]

Dusk finished cleaning his teeth, letting go of the magic as he smiled at himself in the mirror. He never liked letting go of the magic, but he had to so that nopony else found out he used it. He took up his mirror again and walked back into the small camp. He placed it back in his saddlebags and placed those on his back. Once he had the pickhammer in place, his hat on his head, and his cloak covering his back, he was ready to go. Except for one thing. He took a small loaf of bread out of his pack and stuffed it in his mouth. He trotted up to stand next to Silvan, his nightingale, and Soul Slasher while he chewed the bread. He turned his head to the others and smiled, quickly swallowing the bread when he realized his mouth was still full of it.

“Morning fellows, morning your princeliness” he said with a mocking bow. “Now, seems like we’ll be getting the rest of the way up the mountain today, which brings a question to my mind. What is at the top of this mountain you want?” he asked Silvan. For once, the words he spoke to the prince had no bight or mocking tone in them.