Creative Corner

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=Diseased fungus] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty[/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 night was peaceful, warm and quiet, without a cloud in the sky. Sylph felt as if she could almost fall asleep. The past few days had been rough travel, and she was set on edge. Sleep felt impossible. Especially with the stars staring down at her. At least here, in the Land of Earth, they did not glow as they did in the Blessed Vale. But Sylph still felt like they were watching her, quietly judging the things she had done. If the stress was not enough to already keep her from getting rest, the stars made sure to let her get none. With a soft groan, she sat up. At moments like these, the allure of immortality dulled, and Sylph felt only weariness. Her heart seemed so heavy, as if it couldn't bear the load of what she had put it through. A sudden, loud clatter of rocks exploded in the night. Sylph whirled toward the noise, already drawing a dagger and crouching low. Nothing moved in the shadows, but she heard a few more scrapes. Someone was running. She took chase, exhaustion giving over to adrenaline as she began to run. Gripping her dagger, she took to the sky and flew low over the earth, rushing after the mysterious, unseen dragon. Sylph let herself think it was the goddess, foolish enough to come so close to her camp. But she knew it was not so. Her world narrowed to only the chase, and she was so caught up in it that she didn't realize she was following air until the sound of wind was the only thing that could be heard. Sylph landed, panting, and looked around. Nothing. With a low growl, she began to step toward the way she had come from, glancing from side to side. The softest scratch whispered to her ear, and she slowly stopped. Sylph waited, breathing heavily, head hanging toward the ground. As she smelled the air, she could finally catch a scent of the dragon she was hunting. She hung back for one more moment, and then jumped toward the left. A dagger was thrown ahead of her, cutting through the air and reflecting flashes of moonlight. A small cry pierced the air, and then loud sounds of an attempt to escape. Sylph landed next to the shadowy dragon, who unfurled his wings and jumped into the sky, climbing faster than what felt possible. She grinned to herself, taking chase, flying after the swift form morphed by darkness. As they soared higher and higher, she realized that the dragon wasn't as shrouded as before. It was the moonlight, revealing a lithe shape. As she strained to see who she hunted, Sylph ran into a powerful gust of wind. She let out a shriek of surprise as her wings bent, unable to hold her up. She began to plummet, stomach swooping with her drop. Vaguely, she thought of Morrow's near-death experience. Tears creeping out of her eyes, Sylph bared her teeth and fought the strong, unnatural wind. It began to fade slowly at first as the ground unfolded from the shadows, and then quicker. Until there was barely anything but a breath of air ghosting over her skin, causing a shiver. With a relieved gasp, Sylph's wings began to function again and she caught herself. She still crashed onto the ground, unable to land properly. For a long moment Sylph only laid there, chest heaving and fingers shaking. With a shake of her head, she stood, letting out a snarl. She could not be weak. She could not show fear. Sylph began to walk back, despite the tremor still shuddering through her legs. It was unnerving, that wind. Had the strange dragon caused it? Sylph paused to look up into the sky, but the mysterious figure had vanished. She looked back toward the distant camp, where firelight glowed against the night. It was time to head back. There would not be any capture tonight. And Sylph did not want to risk flying again. She began to stalk back, fighting fear and doubt. She had always won over them, and she would win again. As Sylph walked, her hand brushed the knives strapped across her hip. She smiled when her fingers touched an empty sheath. [/size][/font] ----- I don't feel like editing right now, I'll do it later. Sorry for mistakes. (And look at that! We've reached day fifty, guys!) [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=small ribcage] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty-One[/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 @SpiceCookie [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]Days passed by in a blur of travel and training, and Morrow found himself blinking awake, exhausted, as Izen passed by his tent, yelling for everyone to wake up. With a groan at his sore muscles, he sat up and left the tent. He stretched his wings as he walked toward a cook fire roaring heartily, dropping next to it with a grunt. "Training catching up with you?" His trainer asked, laughing when Morrow gave a shallow nod. The few others on the relief mission came creeping out of their tents soon after Morrow, sitting around the fire and helping themselves to the breakfast Izen had caught that morning. Morrow didn't know how he could be up so early before dawn and have enough energy to last through the day. "Hey, Morrow," Izen said, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him out of the crowd around the prey. "Yeah?" "Come here," he told him. Morrow frowned as Izen darted away, surprising him with his speed. He bounded after his trainer, shouting for him to wait. They hurried through the thin strip of trees they had camped next to, heading up a steady incline. "Hold up," he panted, pausing at the top of the hill. "Come on," Izen said, not waiting for Morrow as he trotted down the slope and up another. Morrow grumbled under his breath, but followed after the dragon. As they climbed the second hill, which was taller, Morrow's tiredness began to fade, and his muscles began to ache with a familiar and almost comfortable strain. As they reached the bare brow of the hill, he staggered to a halt as he came up beside Izen. Stretched out before him was a golden plateau awash in dawn's light, lighting up skeletal trees and brush. A herd of wild horses roamed so far away they were hardly distinguishable. Framing the horizon were tall, brown mountains that soared into the sky, some even topped with white snow. It was a wasteland, where life was scarce. And yet, it rivaled even the beauty of the Blessed Vale. "This is the Land of Earth," Izen said to him. "The plateau before you is where Lady Sylph is hunting the last immortal. I wanted to show you because you've never been outside of your sheltered valley." "It's so...Different," Morrow whispered, unable to tear his eyes away. This was where Sylph came from, her brown eyes paying homage to the mighty mountains so far away. "The Land of Earth definitely holds its own sort of beauty that no other land can claim," Izen said. "Only a small portion of this vast place can be inhabited, yet so many make do with the harsh conditions. I stayed here for a while. It's when Lady Sylph picked me up all those months ago." "What was it like?" He asked, finally looking away toward his trainer. "I enjoyed it," he replied. "The weather can get extreme in the summers and winters, although I only experienced a summer there. Their cities are amazing, though, Morrow. You should visit one day." "Perhaps after Sylph catches the last immortal," Morrow said. He thought of what it could be like, exploring the world. Finding the adventure he always craved. It was almost too good for him to believe that it could ever be, especially with his large family waiting at home. "Perhaps," Izen said, thoughtful. He turned away from the scenery, back toward the trees and camp. "We should probably head back to the others. Finish eating, pack up, and head out. There's still a whole day of travel ahead, Morrow." "And let me guess--training," Morrow said with a grin. Izen grinned back, eyes flashing. "And training." [/size][/font] ----- So. Close. To. Finishing. Part One. There should only be a few more updates left! I hope I'm not rushing anything. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=leather wing wraps] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty-Two[/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 @SpiceCookie [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]In the evening Izen's group reached the small cluster of tents that made up Sylph's camp. Morrow thought he should have felt relief, but his anxieties only mounted higher. He'd reach the end the of the journey after an all--too short week. They would discover whoever this dragon was Sylph had been chasing for so many years, unless the last immortal got away again. His worries began to melt away as they entered the small camp. He hardly heard Izen greet the few scribes and messengers they encountered, too busy looking around. The land was less impressive up close, and it had lost some of its charm to the oppressive heat that hung over the plateau. "Finally! I hope you enjoyed the trip." Morrow looked toward the voice, which belonged to Sylph herself. She glared at Izen, who weathered her stormy attitude remarkably well. "We did, Lady Sylph," he said with a smile. When his charm failed on the glaring dragon, he turned more serious. "I'm sorry. We tried our best to come as quickly as we could, but a dragon can only fly so far. Especially such a great distance." "I know," Sylph grit out, still not looking pleased. "We've chased the goddess halfway across this sweltering wasteland, and she keeps getting farther and farther away." "We'll get her tonight, mark my words, Lady Sylph," Izen said, eyes shining with sudden fervor. "I've watched the last immortal escape your grasp one too many times. I'm ready to see that change." "I'm ready too," she muttered, turning away. "Rest yourselves, eat for energy. We leave as soon as the sun goes down." Izen's group began to disperse, the trainer himself hurrying toward the pot hanging over the cook fire. Morrow hesitated, watching Sylph walk away from camp. He knew they weren't really friends. She'd been forced to travel with him to bring him back to her camp, and they had been waylaid several times, lengthening the trip. But no matter how long it took, he knew no friendships had been made. The fact that she hadn't even looked at him once that evening proved it. Morrow hesitantly went after her, pausing at first and glancing back at the laughing and talking crew. He then turned and trotted after Sylph, who had already gone a ways away. "Sylph!" She whipped around, lowering into an attacking stance. She relaxed when she noticed him. "What do you want?" Sylph snapped. Morrow stood frozen for a moment, suddenly realizing he didn't have an excuse. Any ideas that were in his head before flew right out, like a flock of birds escaping a cat. "I...Thank you," he muttered, ducking his head in embarrassment. "For what?" She asked, screwing her face up in confusion. "I guess for not letting me fall before we reached your camp," he told her. "I know I wasn't worth much, but I'm grateful you decided to save me anyways." "Not like I was going to waste all my time for nothing," Sylph said with a snort, turning away. Morrow flinched, trying not to feel the sting of her retort. "Yeah," he murmured, turning away. He should have known Sylph was a dead-end. As he walked back toward the others, he tried to reconcile with himself. He had Izen, who was becoming more of a friend each day. And the others, too, who he hadn't quite gotten to know yet. He had friends already, and Sylph's companionship wasn't need. Yet even as Morrow tried to stop feeling the sting of her last remark, he couldn't help but glance over his shoulder. What a shame. As the sun came closer and closer to the tips of the mountains, the camp became even livelier than dinner had been. Morrow found himself going through a few extra movements with his sword, swinging it around idly as he waited. Izen polished his own blade, despite the fact it was nearly glowing already, and the others either trained with each other or paced nervously. As Morrow sheathed his weapon and was tying it to his hip, he heard a voice call quietly from behind. "Morrow." He turned around, startled, and found Sylph standing near the tent he was by. He opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing, but the dragon only shook her head and hurried away. He followed, almost cautiously, as she led him through the waning light. Sylph jump on top of a rocky mound, turning to look down on him. With a sudden sense of determination, Morrow climbed up next to her. He couldn't care less if she was his boss. "What?" He asked, hearing the confusion in his tone. She stayed silent, watching the dying sun impale itself upon the mountain peaks. It had almost entirely fallen behind them before Sylph spoke up, answering his question. "I was cruel to make such a statement to you earlier," she said quietly. "For years I have not cared who I've offended, or watched what my mouth has said. When I saw your face after I had said that last comment...I have realized what a monster I am. So I apologize to you, Morrow." She still refused to look at him, but Morrow kept his eyes fixed on Sylph. "You are only trying to catch the last immortal and seize the prize," he told her. "I can understand if that is the only thing on your mind." Sylph laughed darkly, without a spark of humor in her eyes. "Oh Morrow, you are so innocent like the rest of your people. What I would do to have that back." "I don't understand," he said, cocking his head. He couldn't puzzle out why Sylph was acting so strange. It unsettled him. "I am not normal, Morrow," she said, turning to meet his eyes with her own. "I have done many things that should not be revealed in the starlight. I won't speak of them, so do not ask. Tonight is the night to catch my prize and be done with this ridiculous journey." She leapt off the mound, walking away as Morrow rushed to follow. "What will you do once you have taken immortality?" He asked her. Sylph paused, voice low and shadowed. "I can't say, not truly. All I know is that I am on a road to destruction, and I cannot turn back." Morrow wished he could tell her the opposite, even offer to help her find a brighter path. But Sylph flew away before he could say anything. He tried not to think of the depth in her words. [/size][/font] ----- Juicy stuff. :) [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=gold filigree banner] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty-Three[/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 @SpiceCookie [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]The sun could not disappear quick enough for Sylph. It's light still lingered, rising up from behind the mountains like a plea. She wished they could leave early, but knew that darkness was required. The sun still had to go down a little farther. The few dragons Izen had brought milled around nervously with one another, while the scribes she had taken sat by the fire and watched. Morrow sat with his captain, talking quietly with him. A peal of laughter arose from the two dragons. Sylph turned away from them and stared east, where the goddess had last been spotted. The two scouts remaining with her did their work well, and were still able to figure out where the mysterious dragon went. Sylph wondered if she were wounded, or if it had been a thief that she had caught outside the camp. Before the night was over, she would find out. She would. The sun seemed unwilling to let the moon take over, but eventually, shadows began to stretch across the ground. Sylph knew it was time. "All right!" She called, walking back to the tents. "Time to head out. I will take the lead, Izen, bring up the rear." The dragons hastened to obey, flying after her as she climbed into the sky. The ground was soon mess of light and dark, slightly blurred as she sped toward the foothills ahead. She flew low, so the icy sharpness of the night wind lessened and the dry heat, still clinging from the sun, blew over them. Yet it wasn't low enough to leave a trail of dust in their wake, alerting the goddess to their presence. The flight was over far too quickly, and Sylph found her heart beating erratically. She should be so much calmer, but the adrenaline had already started to kick in, rushing through her veins and giving her a nervous energy. Morrow landed next to her, dust puffing up from his feet as he folded in his wings. He looked around at the hilly landscape dotted with boulders and stunted trees, quiet. Sylph felt slightly irked that he dared to come near her after their talk, and felt tempted to say something to drive him away. But she knew that it would only waste time, which was now becoming precious. "Come on," she hissed to her small group, darting toward the first hill. A few small shuffles and clatters of pebbles followed after, slowly silencing to nothing. She rounded the hill instead of going over, slowing down as she began to creep between mounds of red-brown earth and clunky, large rocks. She smelled the air, but could not detect anything her scouts had told her about before. Sylph knew the area where the goddess should be, if she hadn't already moved out. It did not take long to reach the place. Sylph held out a hand to stop the others. She scanned the land before her, searching for movement. "Spread out," she whispered to them. "And if you see here, get me. Stay quiet, remember your training." She did not even hear any of the others as they slunk off to do as she commanded, and Sylph felt sharp satisfaction. Tonight would be the night she would finally claim glory and immortality for herself. She would not fail. The ground was still cooling as she sneaked forward, keeping close to the edges of the hills to blend in better. Sylph was glad her scales were nearly the same color as the landscape. After finding nothing after a few tedious minutes moving on the ground, she climbed a hill. It was a slow and frustrating process, but Sylph felt glad she did when she cautiously stood up next to a boulder. The hills opened up beneath her eyes, shining softly in the low moonlight. Her heart jumped at a twitch of movement to her right, but when she looked, it were two dragons moving together, crouching like hunters. It wasn't the goddess. Suppressing an annoyed growl, Sylph looked back and forth. Nothing. Perhaps it was too early for the dragon to come out, or maybe she had learned to stay better hidden. Yet even as she thought that, she saw another flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Sylph cautiously turned toward it, creeping closer, lying against to the ground. It rewarded her with a better look of a silhouette of a thin and graceful dragon moving slowly and warily. As she watched her prey, she heard the smallest scrape behind her. Twisting her head to look, one hand on a dagger, Sylph relaxed when she saw Morrow. And then irritation flared. "What are you doing?" She hissed so quietly he had to lean close to hear. "I think Izen and I found her," he whispered back softly. "Look," Sylph said, glancing back at the dragon who still moved painstakingly slow. She grinned grimly when she heard his breath hitch. "Tell the others where to go, and to set up a circle around her," she told him, as quietly as she could. In the silence he hesitated, body tensed to move but not going away. Sylph glanced at him, feeling irritation when she saw his conflicted face. "Look," she told him. "It isn't her, Morrow." "I know..." he murmured. She sighed, glancing away to make sure the dragon was still there. "Just go," she ordered. "It won't be her, trust me. You promised me to do as I said." Sylph stared into his yellow eyes until Morrow relented, ducking his head and slipping away. He was gone for a while as Sylph tracked the prize, and in the edges of her vision, she began to see slight movement. The plan was coming together. She needed only to give the signal. She smiled and rose to her feet. [/size][/font] ----- Ooohhhh boy. 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[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=rotala] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty-Four[/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 @SpiceCookie [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]All insecurities fled, every doubt vanished. All Sylph felt was the familiar and joyous rush of hunting as she darted down the hill and toward her prey. She moved quietly enough that at first the goddess did not notice her. Sylph slid to a stop in front of the dragon, who reared back in surprise, the whites of her eyes flashing in the moonlight. She did not get a good view of the one she hunted as the dragon turned and ran, tail flickering just in view. She ran after, teeth bared, breath escaping through her fangs in puffs. One of her backups should be waiting to hem in the goddess. Sure enough, she saw a cloud of dust illuminated by faint silver light as she halted abruptly. When the dragon whirled about, she came nearly face-to-face with Sylph. She had a fine-boned face and delicate features, different from the normal patterns of dragons that roamed the Lands. Sylph's study was interrupted as the dragon fled to the right, racing around a hill. She bounded afterwards, feet flying over the ground as she gave chase. The rush of adrenaline and the excitement of the hunt pounded with her heart. This was what it was like to feel alive, to feel the proper nature of her very being. It thrilled Sylph, chasing out any doubts or worries about what it was slowly doing to her mind. That did not matter. Only her prey mattered anymore. The dragon cried out ahead of her as she ran into yet another of Sylph's backup spies. Her voice was definitely feminine, which gave a nod to the stories of a lost goddess. But she did not believe this dragon was actually a deity. No supposed being descended from the stars would fall so low as to be hunted across the lands like a hog. The dragon paused for a moment, slender sides heaving as she looked back and forth. She took off in a different direction, but did not get far before skidding to a stop. Sylph began to stalk toward her, tail flickering to the pulse of the blood in her veins. Her prey took one last look at her approaching, and then spread her wings and took the sky. Sylph grinned. "Surround her!" She shouted, jumping into the air and darting after the fleeing dragon. Dark shapes rose around her as they flew to encircle the desperate dragon, who lifted and then dived, spinning to the left and then the right, trying to shake her pursuers. Yet Izen had trained his spies well, and they formed a neat bubble around the flapping figure. What Sylph did not expect was the sudden, bright burst of fire that exploded from the goddess. Two dragons that were flying in front of her fell, wings trailing like an afterthought as they plummeted toward the ground. She growled angrily, frustration creeping through her when the dragon dove to the right and knocked yet another of her backups to follow the first two. "Follow me!" She screamed to the dragon on her left, diving after her prey that had turned away. Sylph swiveled her head to shoot a command at the other dragon. "Go to the wounded, see if any are left alive." When she looked back around, she noticed they were headed toward a cave. With a short, sharp signal to the dragon next to her, they split and chased the goddess before them toward the black maw. [/size][/font] ----- Me, writing: 'Wow, this is going great! What a good chapter.' *Looks back at how much I've written* Yikes...At least it sounds decent lol. Tomorrow is the last update in part one!! [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/33mXUeA.png[/img] [item=glow mushroom] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty-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 @SpiceCookie [/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]Morrow's heart pounded frantically, and he still felt horrified at the loss of the others. He hoped they would survive. He almost wished Sylph had picked him to go back and check, instead flying straight ahead into a cave to kill the last immortal. The shadowed figure ahead of him tried to turn off, but Sylph was there, driving her back toward the yawning black mouth. Morrow darted forward to cut the dragon off as she tried to escape his way, and then she was gone. Moments later, as Sylph drew closer to him to fit inside the opening, darkness surrounded them. Sylph let loose a blast of fire, illuminating the place and making Morrow's eyes smart from the brightness. Wincing against the pain, he strained to see ahead, and saw the dragon rolling across the ground. Then all vision was gone. As with the last immortal ahead of them, his wings quickly began to scrape against the walls of the cave. He touched down onto the ground only a few feet underneath him, folding them in. Sylph could fly easier in the air inside, but it was a tight fit and he heard her land with a thump. "Light," he heard her say, and felt a nudge on his shoulder. Morrow opened his jaws, calling the flame inside of him, but holding it back so that there was a faint red glow that spread around them. It was hardly enough to see by, but it was plenty to notice that the dragon was quickly scrambling away. Sylph ran after her, and Morrow followed, making the light shiver and threaten to go out. They ran down a twisting tunnel, which slowly curved downward at a gentle slope. It narrowed further as they went, and Morrow began to fight panic that rose within him. He wouldn't be trapped down here; he was the hunter, not the prey. The thought made him sick with himself, but he tried to ignore it. He had to, or else Sylph would have no help. Morrow focused on the rhythm of their footsteps, dull and heavy in the small space, and keeping his fire bright enough to light the way. Sylph pulled slightly ahead, but he noticed her strain. She could not overtake the last immortal. As they ran, the tunnel eventually began to widen, instead of growing smaller. And then they were suddenly spit out into a cave, with inky blackness pressing in around his small bubble of red light. The dragon ahead of them kept running boldly, but by her skittering claws and sharp gasp of breath that echoed all around, it was a dead end. Sylph began to pace back and forth near the entrance, which Morrow stood in. He heard the last immortal panting heavily, but she did not move into the sphere of light. He urged it to be a little brighter, but she still remained veiled in shadow. "So here we are." Sylph's voice cut the tense silence, leaving a shivering wake of low echoes. She backed up, keeping her roving eyes on the edges of their light as she leaned close to Morrow. "I'll drive her to you, and then you must wound her. Do not kill. That is mine for the taking," she whispered. He nodded, fingers shaking as he put a hand on his sword hilt. He did not want to do this. Yet he signed up for it willingly, expecting adventure. And an adventure this had been. Just not the type that he thought it would be. Sylph left the light, and a moment later there was a loud clatter of claws and pounding of feet, and the last immortal ran right toward him, chest heaving, eyes round. He pulled out his blade with the softest hiss, and the dragon skidded to a halt, just inside of his range. Morrow stared blankly at her, hand suddenly feeling too weak to move. "Please," the dragon said hoarsely. Her voice was lovely, musical, but ruined by ragged breathing and desperation. "You do not know what you do." Morrow said nothing, and noticed Sylph creep up behind the dragon. She never heard her. "If you would listen to my plea," the dragon whispered, eyes dull. Movement on the edge of his vision. Morrow winced as Sylph grabbed the neck of the dragon, placing a glittering blade against her jugular. "Wait Sylph!" He shouted, voice ringing all around them. At the same moment the captured dragon cried out, real fear in her voice this time. Sylph paused, glancing at him angrily. "Don't," he begged, stepping forward. "Let us first listen to what she has to say." Morrow felt ashamed that he could not do what he promised Sylph he would. But staring at the raggedly breathing dragon, he knew he had no stomach for such killing. "She has nothing but a pathetic excuse," Sylph hissed, arm tensing. The dragon bowed her head, a tear falling to the ground. It flashed with a brief light as it touched the stone, startling her captors. Morrow stared as Sylph started. But then the distraction was gone. Morrow hardly even thought as he lunged forward. He lowered his weapon at Sylph's neck, the blade shaking, as she sucked in a gasp of surprise, trying to lean away. "Do not kill her," he said, voice low and desperate. "Put the sword away, Morrow," Sylph snarled, glaring up at him without a hint of fear. "You promised to do as I said." "I know," he murmured sadly. "But killing this dragon is not right. Release her, and I will release you." "Killing me is okay, though?" She laughed darkly, as if it were some kind of a joke. "I suppose you don't know, though. Perhaps it is a good thing this all ends here. Kind of frustrating though, you know?" Sylph looked up at him, smiling in such a way that it twisted Morrow's heart. "You won't let go, will you?" He hardly had to pose it as a question. Sylph slowly shook her head. "Me or her, Morrow." He saw her arm in the corner of her vision, drawing back. A glitter of blood flowed from the wound. Morrow drew back his sword, and then lifted it above Sylph's head. Her eyes widened in shock, and she abandoned the attempt to kill the dragon. He looked away at the fear on her face, something he had never seen her wear before. It unsettled him. Arms trembling, he swung his sword down toward her neck. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]The end of part one.[/size][/font] [/size][/font] ----- I'm glad Pinkerton read my mind on how I wanted to end this part, hue hue hue. Since I have finally finished part one, I'll be opening asks for all of today and some of tomorrow, until I update with the prologue of part two. You can ask about anything, but as a warning, I will be avoiding very spoilerish questions. Stuff directly about the plot most likely will go unanswered. I may give some hints, however. :)

*spits out water* WHAT?!!

@Solaristigres
:)

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jRvmJhO.png[/img] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Part Two: Empty[/size][/font] [item=water lettuce] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty-Six: Prologue[/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 @SpiceCookie[/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]"You say all these things, yet I do not yet fully understand," the she-dragon said, looking puzzled. The he-dragon smiled, tilting his head back to look up at the stars shining overhead. His journey was his alone, and not even his Starlight could grasp it. "It is a matter of the stars, my dearest," he told her softly. "Beyond even our reach, down here." Starlight frowned, yet seemed to accept his offer of explanation. "I shall press no further, my Heart," she said. They walked under the open heavens, through waving grass that sheltered no path. A gentle breeze blew, whispering through the vegetation. It was a peaceful night full of pondering and light comments. A careless night, with shining stars and shining hearts. The he-dragon was glad that his wanderings had led him here. "You say that your journey has ended," Starlight said, pausing. He stopped with her, looking into her glowing golden eyes. "Yet you have only just found me, and this love that has bloomed between us. How could that be the end of anything, my Heart?" The he-dragon thought on this for a moment. "That is a good question, dearest," he murmured. "What would the High Stars above want us to do? It could be anything at anytime. Such weight to such a small question." He hummed, looking back up into the sky. "Indeed it is," she agreed. "Yet at the same time I wish to know, I do not wish to know. The mind feels so much more rested when you do not have to worry about anything but to enjoy yourself for a moment or two." The he-dragon thought about this, too, and liked the way Starlight thought. It was comforting, and promised control over such tumultuous ideas. "My travelings brought me to you, and even if they have not finished, the stars have allowed us to have this uninterrupted time together. Let us not waste it, Starlight," he said, reaching out and taking her slender hand in his. She smiled in a demure fashion, as if shy, even though they had known each other for a while at that point. Her withdrawn smiles turn into light, musical laughter as he took her other hand and pulled her into a dance. "Let us enjoy ourselves!" He cried, spinning her around. Starlight's eyes seemed to glow even brighter with mirth as they danced under the stars, careless of their many eyes watching. Their feet flew through thick grass, unhindered by it, and their laughter fell around them like birdsong. The he-dragon had never felt such joy before, not before her. He doubted he could stand the world any longer if Starlight was not by his side. As the moon rode closer toward the horizon, they at last stopped their dance, breathless. While the he-dragon stood and held her hand, he felt the effects of forgetting about the future. He lived in the now, with Starlight, and it was all he wanted. All he needed. And together they would face not his fate, but theirs, that would come. "Will you stay with me, even if the stars send us trouble?" She asked tentatively. It was the first time he had heard her sound insecure and not in control. Just a weak, normal soul. "Of course," he promised her. "From now to the end of the ages, I will always hold your hand." [/size][/font] ----- Ah yes, Part Two. Where the Fun Stuff happens. ;) (Yeah, this isn't really an action scene. But I wanted to write today and the prologue here is pretty much the only thing I'll break a rule for) [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]

[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/jRvmJhO.png[/img] [item=fungalhoof qiriq horn] [size=6][font=Monotype Corsiva]Day Fifty-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 @SpiceCookie[/size][/font] ----- [size=4][font=Garamond]In the week following the startling message and the deaths, even more priests were found on the doorstep of the temple. Vian told Grace that he worried there would be no one left to reopen it once the king got the heretics back under control. Grace began to wonder if the city would ever be the same. The guards were able to stop most speeches and riots happening in the city, and the markets were slowly creeping back to life. But many were still wary, and some even left the citadel. She felt rather tempted to leave, too, but still felt the need to hang back. Wouldn't it be safest to stay near the king and his guards? And what of the escaped bandits, who Vian had come with? Grace did not want them finding him. She sat in her bed, staring up at the ceiling, finding sleep elusive, despite being exhausted. She hardly slept anymore, considering nightmares would usually steal away what little rest Grace could get. Eventually however, she found herself beginning to nod off. She slipped into the blackness hoping for some actual sleep. Another nightmare surfaced. Grace found herself lost in white snow, unable to see anything in the distance. Flurries of falling flakes began to twirl around her, and she realized a storm was coming. But there was no where to hide. She tried to dig inside the snow, as she had been taught, but it was hard and resisted her sharp talons. She looked up, heart pounding. Grace had no where to go. The wind began to howl around her, sounding like scorning voices and frenzied shouts. A stronger gust blew, bringing with it a ragged scream, and then whispers of a new dawn. But here there was no dawn. Grace had no choice but to face the oncoming storm, knowing she'd be swept away. She could feel the blank sensation of losing hope, and felt her fingers beginning to numb. The snow had come to claim her at last. Grace awoke shivering, despite the rather warm night. Her fingers and toes tingled, as if exposed to the weather for too long. She often felt this way after dreaming about her birthplace. Wrapping a shawl around her shoulders, she slipped out of her room and hurried down the hall. She knocked on the familiar door, waiting patiently. It had been a while since Grace had felt guilty for waking Vian up in the night. He opened the door, blinking at her sleepily, stepping to the side to let her in. "Another nightmare?" He guided her to a chair, and Grace sunk into it, glad to be off her trembling feet. "Yes," she murmured. "I would think I would dream more about our predicament here, but the cold keeps haunting me. I just can't get away." Vian's brow wrinkled in concern as he dragged another chair up to hers and sat down. "Tell me," he said softly. "The nightmare?" She asked, about to go on. Vian stopped her, shaking his head. "Tell me about what happened, Grace. In the Land of Ice." She stared at him in surprise. Vian always took care to tread around her nightmares gently, but tonight he spoke boldly. Yet as she continued to look into his worried golden eyes, the memories began to rush back, pressing against her tongue as if willing it to speak. "My family lived in the north," she began, wringing her hands together until Vian took them. His warmth gave her a boost of energy, and she continued. "It wasn't long after I was born, apparently, that the storms began to grow worse there. Nature was trying to claim back the land our stubborn little village had claimed; coating it in icy snow nearly year around, blizzards becoming common, the sun only showing its face for a few scarce hours. "Our crops dwindled until we could no longer plant them, and trade became big. It was my village's only hope for survival. Why did my parents and the rest not leave? I suppose it was their love for their home, and their refusal to let the cold chase them farther south. I was but a young child during this time, and my memory is hazy. "My parents never had another child, since it was hard enough to sustain me. I vaguely remember them...Just smudged faces, perhaps a smile. I was told things about them, but even that has begun to fade. "It was a big storm, early in autumn, that hit during the night. We had had a bad year to begin with, as I was told, and the blizzard was the final blow. It buried houses and brought such cold weather that many died. My father did not make it through the night. My mother did, but apparently she passed in the day after the storm. A few dragons took their children and the other orphans like me and left for the south, finally seeing that we could not live there any longer. "It was a life of travel, trying to make our way to the shores of the opposite sea, trying to find warmth. We prayed to the sun earnestly, but he did not listen. He hid his face, and we perished one by one. We thought of settling in towns we came across, but it was too cold. Too terrible a reminder of our past lives. So we pressed on, determined in our journey, even as it killed us. "Those dragons became my only family," Grace whispered, startling when she felt tears dripping down her cheeks. "And the snow claimed them all. I was nearly dead myself before a travelling merchant found me and took me in. He and his family nursed me back to health, and I at last reached the gray shores we had sought. "I was the only one to make it out alive." She hung her head, barely feeling Vian's touch as he squeezed her fingers. She sniffed, resisting the urge to tug her fingers away and wipe at her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Grace," Vian murmured. When she glanced into his face, she saw the horror painted there. He hadn't realized just how terrible the Land of Ice truly was. An unforgiving wasteland that only the toughest and smartest placed villages could survive in. "I wanted you to tell your story so that you could let it go," he told her. "I know what you went through. And I know that you survived it. It is your past, not your present, Grace. Stop letting the cold control you and control it." He leaned forward, earnest. "You are strong and brave. Fight for happier days, and they will be given to you. I will make sure of it." "Thank you," she whispered, resting her forehead against his. "I'll try, Vian. I'll fight." "And you'll win," he murmured. "[i]We[/i] will win," she corrected him softly. [/size][/font] ----- Yeah, yeah, I'll get to Morrow tomorrow finally. Sorry making you wait longer with not writing. I'll edit later. [size=5][font=Monotype Corsiva]Next[/size][/font]