Creative Corner

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=bottled embers] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Forty-Five[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]"...Probably healed enough." "...Not expecting him to do much." Morrow woke up to voices, and at first he couldn't tell what they said. As he woke up further, he realized there were two dragons talking outside his door. "He does seem trained in the sword," one of the voices said. Morrow recognized it as the head trainer, Izen, who he had met earlier in the week. As the days went by, he had been allowed out of his room long enough to tour the camp and meet a few important dragons. Izen had been one of them. He realized with a spark of excitement that it sounded as if they were going to let him start his training. Morrow had been on bed rest for almost two weeks, and his energy felt like it had been being bottled up. He jumped at any chance to let it out, and now it sounded as if he was being allowed to practice again. His wound healed rather quickly, and his shoulder hardly hurt anymore. Morrow hoped he would be cleared. Izen entered the room with a nurse, who eyed Morrow's shoulder as if she could spot the scar underneath the neat white bandage wrapped around his arm. "How are you feeling today, Morrow?" Izen asked, forgoing any greeting and stepping up to the side of his bed. "Fine, sir. I've been waiting almost a week now to get back into training," he told him. The trainer laughed, a genuine smile lighting up his young face. "Hardly a week and he's lunging at the bars, eager to be free! I like this dragon already, nurse." He turned back to Morrow, becoming a little more serious. "How long have you been training with the sword?" "For nearly four years now, sir," Morrow answered. "Though I've never been in a real fight. I have only been a guard, and Starlight's Citadel doesn't get many criminals." "Starlight's Citadel, eh? I hear they raise good soldiers. I'm interested in seeing what you are made of. Why don't you come down to the training field this afternoon?" Izen offered, smiling jovially again. "I'd love to, sir," Morrow said eagerly. He glanced at the nurse, who nodded in permission. "Alright then, Morrow. I shall let the nurses finish up with you, and see that a page is sent to give you your own quarters. We'll discuss matters further once I see how good you are," the trainer clapped him on his good shoulder and then left. The nurse came forward and began to unravel the bandage after the door shut. "You've healed up nicely, but you will need to make sure that you keep it easy during training. The wound is sealed, but you could hurt your shoulder further if you push yourself too hard," she instructed him as she worked. Morrow nodded to her words, quietly agreeing. He hardly heard the rest of her instructions, instead thinking about the training field. After being given his own tent, Morrow wandered the camp until the sun reached its peak in the sky. Noticing it, he headed down to the field used for training. Izen was already there, warming up, and Morrow dropped his own sword next to an ornate sheath and picked up a wooden sword. He began going through warm up movements, feeling Izen's eyes fix upon him as he started. Morrow ignored the trainer, instead focusing on his work. He felt a little clumsy after so much time having gone by not practicing, but it didn't dampen his joy to be wielding a blade after his extended rest. "You're not bad," Izen remarked when Morrow paused, wiping at his forehead. His shoulder had a perpetual ache in it, but it hardly stopped him. "Thank you, sir," he panted. "I think I could polish you up for another three days before you go on the support mission," his trainer said. "What?" Morrow said, turning around and dropping the stance he had adopted. Izen grinned, eyes sparking with humor. "We heard that you're already trained, and we don't have many spies that have graduated yet. Lady Sylph believes she has located the goddess, so she's asking for a few dragons to come and back her up," Izen explained. Morrow stared at the dragon, shocked. He wasn't expecting any action for months. He wasn't even expecting that as soon as he joined the organization, it'd be disbanded. Or would Sylph stop her work? He didn't know the answer to that question. "I'd be honored to come," he said. "When do we leave? In three days?" "At dawn," Izen confirmed. [/size][/font] ----- I wanna do a few little fun things at the end of part one to celebrate that milestone, so be expecting that. I have the end plotted out, but not to a T so I'm unsure how many more updates it'll take. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=spathiphyllum] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Forty-Six[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]"Good stars above! You've had quite a journey, lad, haven't you?" Hernan said, smacking Vian a little too hard on his back. "Yes," he agreed quietly. Vian figured it was time Hernan learned of his backstory, even though he worried that his employer might fire him because of it. It didn't seem like he'd be having that problem. "Good thin' that you saw sense and let that lass help ya," the dragon continued. "She sounds like a good friend to someone like you." "She is," Vian said. His thoughts drifted to Grace, and he wondered how her day had been. He hoped she was alright. "Good Starlight's Heart," he heard Hernan whisper. Vian looked to where the dragon was staring, wondering what he had missed. "What?" He asked. A small crowd had gathered, and murmured voices rose in a hum around them. As Vian strained to see, he finally got a glimpse of what caused the horror on Hernan's face. He went still, repulsion working his stomach up to a roil. Before he knew it, Vian was pushing through the crowd to get a better look, despite the rational part of his mind screaming at him to go far, far away. "Lad?" He heard his employer call out. He ignored him, staring hollowly at the body positioned against the steps leading into the temple. It was one of the priests, a young dragon hardly older than Vian. They had spoken together a few different times. His neck was cruelly slashed, the blood leaking down to stain his silver robes dark maroon. Glassy yellow eyes reflected terrified faces of the crowd. Vian didn't know how long he stared with the crowd, but eventually a few guards came jogging up. They began to corral the crowd away, and two walked up to the body. One paused, bending down and plucking up a letter that had been concealed in the robes of the priest. Vian was about to press forward to see what it said, but then he saw a glimpse of a familiar face. "Are you alright?" Grace asked when he stepped over. She looked at him with terror written on her face. Her hands shook. Vian gently grabbed them, as if he could help control her fear. "It's okay," he said softly. "The body has been there for a while it seems. Hernan and I just walked up." "Thank goodness," she breathed, glancing over Vian's shoulder to watch the dragon reading the letter. He ached to ask her to find out what it said, but he didn't want to put her into that position. Grace was rattled enough already. "Great stars! I bet you its those heretics, Vian," Hernan puffed, coming up. "Who else would kill a priest?" Vian muttered darkly. Grace's face drained of color, and she again glanced at the body and the guards surrounding it. "Ah! You must be the lass that helped Vian," Hernan said, looking Grace up and down. "Fine lass, ya are." "Hernan, not now," Vian whispered to him. "Just tryin' to lighten the mood, is all," his employer said, shrugging his shoulders and looking sheepish. Grace seemed to have hardly heard him. "Grace?" "Hmm?" She looked at Vian distractedly when he squeezed her hands. "Why don't you go report to your captain?" He suggested. She looked around once, and then nodded. "Thank you," Grace whispered. She let go of his hands and left swiftly, as if eager to be gone from the place. Hernan looked between the two of them. "Is she okay? Your friend looked a little frightened, Vian," he said. "She's fine," he replied, a little stiffly. "Look, Hernan. I have to go, I'm sorry." "It's fine, lad, fine," the dragon replied. "Go on, then." Vian needed no more prodding. He hurried away, as eager as Grace to put as much distance between himself and the temple. "If you will not listen to us, then we will be opted to use force. Today we have sent you a little nudge to renounce your faith in Starlight and turn to the eternal lights, the stars. No one is safe. No one can find refuge in Starlight or her Heart. Come join us in a new dawn, a beautiful dawn. "That's what it said, Vian," Grace said, putting down a copy of the note that had been found on the body. When she looked up, Vian saw that the same worries he had were reflected in her pale eyes. "What more will they do?" He said. "Can the heretics truly expect to turn every dragon in the citadel to their beliefs?" "After today, I don't see how it could be that hard," Grace said softly. Vian hated that she was right. It was unsettling as well as disturbing that the heretics were now handing out death threats to turn people from Starlight and her Heart. He suddenly felt as if he were in danger. "How could things fall so far?" He mused aloud. "As a child I heard so many stories about the citadel. How beautiful, infallible, perfect it was. The dragons who lived here were supposed to shine in the night like the stars, and nothing impure could enter her gates. Yet now..." "Now it's a home to heretics who don't like Starlight, and taken over by a stranger claimed king," Grace finished for him. She walked over and laid a hand on his shoulder, staring out the window. "Perhaps it's finally time to leave." "Maybe so," Vian agreed sadly. [/size][/font] ----- I can't stop seeing that last sentence as a gif I've seen on Tumblr. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=white linen fabric scrap] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Forty-Seven[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]The morning after the dead priest had been found Vian was given off work. Hernan sent a page with a note that said he didn't want to put him in danger, and that the shop would be closed anyways. As he walked the streets, he noticed that a lot of merchants were thinking along the same lines as his employer. In the evening, as he quietly sipped a drink at the bar under the inn, Vian noticed Grace walk in with a quick step. He waved her over, and she sat down in a rush. "What's up?" He asked, noticing the tight look on her face. "King Cyn has set out a decree to the captain of the guard that he wants soldiers patrolling the streets all hours of day and night. He's doubling the protection to the people, since the heretics are near impossible to stop," Grace told him, biting at her lip. "That's wonderful news," Vian said. As he watched Grace glance down at the nicked bar, he realized why she looked so worried. "You don't want to patrol, do you?" "I know what I signed up for when joining the guard, Vian. I just never expected that things would actually get dangerous like this. I want to protect the citadel. But I'm scared. I'm so scared, Vian," she whispered. "Then tell your captain that you want to resign," he urged her, leaning his arms on the bar. "Let him know that you just can't do it." "I suppose I could," Grace murmured thoughtfully. "There's been a lot of dragons that want to sign up to patrol the streets, but other guards are resigning, too." "I can tell your captain likes you, Grace. He'll understand," he told her. "Just do it. Then, maybe, we could leave." "That's the other thing I was going to bring up, Vian," she started, tracing a long mark that might've been made by a knife in the wood. "If the king is starting to set out more guards, perhaps the citadel will become safer. I wanted to ask if we could stay and see what unfolds. "When I left the Lands of Ice, I had several different places that I thought about moving to. I picked Starlight's Citadel because it sounded so surreal and beautiful, and the people sounded so peaceful. Up until now, I've found all of that to be true. I'd never imagine as a child that I'd live somewhere outside of the snow, and someplace so wonderful at that. The citadel has become my home. When I moved here, I hoped to come to love it and find refuge from the nightmares of my past. And I have loved it--so much, in fact, that I decided to join the guard. I know I haven't adopted the people's religion, but that's not what I came for. I came to make a new start, start my life over the way it should have been. And religion just is not in that. "I hope you understand, Vian, that I wish to stay just a little longer. King Cyn gives me hope that this citadel can be saved. Do you still want to leave?" She looked up, eyes shining with old griefs yet also with hope. Grace looked so vulnerable, so fragile. Vian wanted to shield her from every terrible thing that had happened to her. "No, not if you're staying. I told you the truth that I'm going to stay by you, Grace," he said, reaching out to lay his hand on top of hers. "How can you do this?" She murmured, searching his eyes with her own. "You pulled me back from the pit I had fallen into," he answered. "I had made a grave mistake, but didn't know how to stop living it. But then you came along, urging me to rethink my life and not throw it away. You spoke of your childhood, and it was then that I saw the value in living." "I didn't think I had made that strong of an impact," she said with a small smile. "Don't sell yourself short," he replied. Grace moved her stool closer to his, laying her head on his shoulder. Her eyes remained distant as she said, "How have I made it this far in life without you?" "Because you're strong," he said. "And you have a stubborn heart. I don't think anything can shatter you, no matter how hard the world tries." "Everyone always has a weakness," she told him softly. [/size][/font] ----- These two are so wholesome, you guys don't know how much I love writing them. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

@MorningSkye
Hi! Can be added to you pinglist? ^^

@SpiceCookie
Yup! Thank you for your interest. :)

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=mistral glove] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Forty-Eight[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]Guards passed through streets, three each, and two were constantly circling over the sky above. Grace felt like she was a prisoner as Vian was, and resisted the urge to hide. In odd ways, the guards were both a comfort and frightening. She and Vian walked the streets, some of the very few to do so. After the patrols had been put up, most had hidden away inside their homes. Only a few of the bravest dragons came out to participate in listening to the heretics talk, should one happen to arise. Grace had no idea if any heretics had even been spotted after the guards had been set up. Two days ago, she had officially resigned from her position on the guard. Her captain seemed rather sad to see her go, but Grace had felt oddly unattached from the others as she had left. Perhaps it had reminded her too much of leaving the Land of Ice. "Grace?" "Yes?" She turned to look at Vian, startled out of her thoughts. "You nearly ran right into that cart back there," he told her with a frown. "Oh, sorry," she muttered, glancing at the ground. "I guess I was just thinking about things." "It's fine," he said softly. He walked a little closer as they passed through the cobbled streets, and Grace forced her thoughts away. As they passed empty merchant stalls and quiet houses, Vian spoke up again. "I don't think I ever told you about my life before I came to the citadel, did I?" "No, you didn't," she said, a little surprised at the sudden topic change. "It was a small village, mostly known for its black smiths and fine iron welding. Even its fame wasn't largely known," he said with a faint smile. "That's where I was born. A no-name village that nearly no one but other tiny places had heard of. I didn't have any other siblings, and as I grew up, I began to train as an apprentice black smith. "I liked my life, but when a group of rough dragons came through one day, they promised adventure and money never seen before. In other words, they were recruiting dragons. Me and another boy about my age agreed to join together, and so we did. That's how I ended up here." A storm brewed on Vian's face as he obviously thought about those days. "Have you ever thought about going back?" Grace asked quietly. "What?" He looked at her with wide eyes. "To see your parents?" She said, pausing. "Yes," he whispered. "But not now. I can't. Not only do I not want to leave you, Grace, but I still am not ready. It really hasn't been that long since I left those bandits." "If you ever go, I would like to come," she told him. "I want to see where you lived." Vian waited until they started walking again before answering. "Sure, I guess." She could tell the subject made him uncomfortable. Grace almost shared her story, too. She thought about the snow drifts taller than her head, heavy animal skins, and two sets of worried eyes. Begging, moaning, as the storms grew slowly worst. As nature reclaimed a section of her land. The thoughts caused her skin to shiver, and so she pushed them away in her head, frantic to think of anything else. No, she wasn't ready, either. Vian glanced at her, but said nothing at the trembling that had shaken her wings briefly. As they passed by more empty streets patrolled by guards, Grace finally realized where they were. The temple was just ahead. Vian appeared to not pay attention as they approached it slowly, looking down at his feet, probably thinking about his family far away. Grace froze, feeling tingles of fear prickle throughout her hands as she stared up at the front of the temple. "Gra--" Vian cut himself off as he saw what she saw. Two dead priests, laid against each other in front of the doorway. Blood pooled around them, and it was also dripping from the carved white wall above their heads. The horrid, crimson stains spelled out four words. [i]Your religion is dying. [/i] [/size][/font] ----- I'm so hungry and had no idea how to draw out this update so I dunno how it sounds but I'm gonna go see if my mom is okay with making waffles. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

@SpiceCookie
Oops, forgot to add you to the pinglist. Dunno if it'll tag you or not if I edit the post, so I'll do it here and try to remember next time, lol. Sorry.

Oh my.....

@MorningSkye
It's fine, no worries! I'm gonna go read the update now :)

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=fine filament] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Forty-Nine[/size][/font] [url=http://www1.flightrising.com/forums/cc/2394907/1][size=4][font=Garamond]Front Page[/font][/size][/url] ----- [size=3][font=Garamond]Pinglist: @FrostStrix @Amphithere @Spottedleaf125 @Aetherstorm @Digimon11 @Solaristigres [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]The sun shone hotly upon the camp, but Morrow sat beside the cook fire, trying to ignore the heat. As he stared at the looming mountains they would soon cross, he heard footsteps sound behind him. "A terrible day for travel, eh?" Izen sat down next to Morrow, glancing up at the blindingly bright sky. He had no idea how the trainer could stand it. "Awful," Morrow agreed. "And to think! It will only get hotter the closer we get to the Land of Earth," his trainer said with a mirthless, dry laugh. "It's going to get [i]hotter[/i]?" He asked, turning to the dragon beside him in dread. "How is that even possible?" Izen laughed, this time full and real. "Yes it will," he responded. "You are used to your comfortable valley that's always pleasant year around, but Morrow, this is the real world. Disappointments will abound, I can assure you." He slapped Morrow on the shoulder in good-nature. "Have you ever been to the Blessed Vale?" He asked Izen, curious. "I have," he confirmed, nodding. His eyes seem to light up at the mention of Morrow's home, and his gaze almost turned distant. "Only once, but it was enough. I'd live there if I could settle down." "So you have always moved around, before you joined Sylph's cause?" Morrow said in curiosity. "Yeah," Izen murmured. "I like it. Something new to see, something new to do. Always adventure around the corner. Yet the Blessed Vale possesses a sort of beauty that I can't quite put into words--a peaceful feeling. Do you sense it when you stay there?" "I do," Morrow said, thinking back to the citadel. Now that Izen mentioned it, he did recall a sort of emptiness within him outside of his home. "It is the one place that I think I would truly be happy to settle down in," the trainer told him, sounding suddenly soft. "The citadel is a wonderful place," Morrow said. "I have never been out of it before now, and not for very long, either. But I can say that I already miss it a lot. Yet at the same time, I'm excited to explore the world outside of the Blessed Vale." "I guess you and I could swap lives, eh?" Izen said with another brazen laugh. It almost sounded forced. "Guess so," Morrow said with a small chuckle. It was all he could muster, once he began to think seriously. "Do you think this is the end?" He asked abruptly. Izen sobered, staring into the crackling flames. "It could be so. Lady Sylph has had a lot of close calls with the last immortal, but I get a different sense this time. I think she might actually do it." "What rumors have you heard about the last immortal?" Morrow asked quietly. He thought back to his conversation about her with Sylph, and it still unsettled him. To think that he willingly was chasing a dragon that could very well be the goddess he worshiped was absurd. Doubt and uncertainty mixed together, confusing him. Certainly Starlight was up in the sky with her Heart, right? "Several," Izen said softly. "I have heard before that the last immortal is a goddess, fallen to the world and hunted by dragons eager for the prize gifted by the stars to return her. Immortality. Only one dragon can claim it. That's where some have gotten the nickname 'the goddess' for her. "Others delve deeper into our history, looking into shadowed pasts. Some even are crazy enough to claim that the world was once ruled by immortals, and she is the last of them. Whoever pierces her heart wins her immortality. Really, Morrow, the lists go on and on." Izen picked up a stick while he talked, stirring the dying fire. Morrow chewed on what he said, picking it apart in a desperate attempt to make some sense with his own theories. Even in extended thought, he couldn't quite make sense of the different stories. "Get ready to leave soon." He barely heard his trainer's words, instead too preoccupied with his swirling mind. He continued to look at the gray-blue mountains, pieces of information jumbling together. "What is the truth?" He whispered to himself. Before him, the fire guttered out. [/size][/font] ----- I'm shocked this sounds decent for the amount of distractions going on constantly thru my writing. Nothing motivates me to get up early more than a loud house during the day and attempting to write. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]