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laurelsofhighever · 3 years

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Almost two years after civil war nearly tore Ferelden apart, Alistair has settled into his role as king despite the cost of the victory. Having come to Orlais to lead trade talks with Empress Celene and representatives from the Free Marches, he hopes to build a stronger future for his people. But grief and guilt still haunt him, the expectations placed on his shoulders cut deep, and to top it all off, there's a stranger in the Winter Palace with the power to shatter his world once again.

SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE ROSE

She tumbled into the light. Her stomach lurched as if in a dream of falling and then her lungs sensed air and instinct overtook her in great, sawing gulps of it, like she was breaching the surface of the ocean after being held under. The flush of panic beneath her skin paused the tally of her other senses, but slowly the scents of rain and earth rose up to meet her, the sigh of wind against her face and the cold of mud under the claw of her fingernails. After so long, the onslaught of sensation bloomed sparks of colour beneath her eyelids. When she tried to open them, the world reeled and fell behind a red haze of too-quick movement, gravity firm against her back and cool earth pressed under her cheek.

“Rest easy, child. It will take some time to adjust to the world again.”

The familiarity of the voice, wry and cracked with age, spurred her into motion. Shivering, she rolled onto her side and turned her head up into the rain. Fat drops prickled her forehead, forcing her to blink, while grass poked at the back of her neck with every heaving gasp she drew for breath. The sky was white. Not green, not dark and swirling with currents of strange energy, but the blank white of a low cloud heavy with water, of a typical miserable day in the waking world that made travellers turn up their collars and drove wildlife to huddle away in whatever shelter they could.

Distracted, she opened her arms wide and laughed until the sound turned into sobbing.

And then a tendril of emerald energy flickered through the air above her head and dread froze her where she lay. The possibility that she was mired in illusion, that this glimpse of freedom might be ripped from her grasp like a curtain pulled back on an empty theatre, churned in her stomach and brought another wave of dizziness crashing down upon her head. It could not be. Without yet knowing if she would stand to face whatever was coming for her this time, she followed the flare of magic back to the rip in the Veil that had allowed her to cross, lifting her head past the ache growing in her bones to see an old woman in the worn, patched clothing of a beggar, her arms raised and wreathed in ropes of blinding bright energy that fed into the slippery green scar of the Fade. It shrank, twisting and snapping like a wild animal trying to free its ropes, until finally with a crack, a flash, and an afterimage that glowed on the back of her eyes, it disappeared entirely.

The roar of it grew stronger by its absence. Trees shivered around the ring of the hill, the susurration of their leaves like an incoming sea. She lay next to Flemeth within a ring of stones patchy with moss, with the acrid odour of a damp fire nearby, too beaten down by the weather to offer either light or warmth.

From neck to foot, her armour clanked with her shivering, even after her saviour barked a command to the flames to leap from their sulking places under the wet logs. As she dragged herself across the sodden ground to the wash of heat over her face, her senses righted still further and nagged her about her surroundings, the familiarity in the stones. She dismissed it. Her hands warmed as she knelt and thrust them towards the fire, but that only sparked another worry; somewhere along the way she had dropped her charm, the pink-petalled rose that had guided her, guarded her, through her wanderings. A bush of the same pale flowers hunkered a little way beyond the circle, but it only held her gaze for a moment before her eye caught on a more distant shape, the solid form of a castle behind the haze of rain, with the dim shadow of a settlement beneath it.

“This is Harrowhill,” she realised, her own voice out loud grating against her ears. Her heart clenched. Two and a half leagues off, her home waited, along with the life she had left behind. She could have walked there within a day, if she pushed herself.

A blanket folded around her shoulders in the same instant that another spoken word to the fire made it leap higher still.

“How do you feel?” Flemeth asked.

Rosslyn looked up into the gleaming yellow eyes. Her body had yet to catalogue the full inventory of hurts that had been done to it, but even in the moment as she pondered the question, more made themselves known. Her throat stung like she had been drinking seawater and the cold shiver in her limbs had turned into full shakes that shot pain through the length of her muscles, while about her, the world spun on more axes than it should. Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut and turned to face straight ahead in the hopes it would quell the nausea, but the pounding in her head only worsened, and it brought into focus the face of a man slumped across the other side of the fire, whom until that moment she had mistaken for a bedroll.

“Who is that?”

Flemeth followed the direction of her gaze. “A criminal. It matters not.”

His eyes stared glassily at nothing from unremarkable, ashen features, mouth agape above a rust-dark line that stretched across the width of his throat.

“You used blood magic.” Sickened, she tried to back away from the corpse, but the effort roiled in her stomach and dimmed her vision at the corners.

“Is that the most of your accusations?” The witch laughed. “This man would have died either way, condemned as he was, but he wished to make amends before his execution, and I needed a source of power. This way, he was of use.”

“You murdered him,” Rosslyn spat. The horizon tilted.

“And rid the world of a murderer to return a champion to it. Are you not glad to be back among the living?”

Still trying to stand, she opened her mouth to respond, but the sway in her ears turned her upside down before the words could form, and in a rush everything slid down into darkness.

When she awoke, it was to a long lance of golden light slanting across the bare beams of a shingle roof above her. Whether it came from a dawning or a westering sun she did not know, and decided did not matter. For a moment she let herself sink back and hover just above unconsciousness as she tried to reconcile the memory of the wet, blustery vision of Harrowhill with the present warm scratch of a wool blanket against her cheek. How Flemeth must have moved her was a mystery for another time; as she collected herself, the images of fevered dreams passed through her mind’s eye, hands pressing her back into a mattress, forcing potions down her throat. Her body ached as if she had been in battle, her breath laboured in her chest, and her blistered mouth screamed for even a drop of water.

Birdsong drifted in through the window. She recognised the trill of a blackbird among the general din, with the distinct purling quality of a late summer boast. Evening, then. The boards above her head were all felled from the same tree, with a collection of whorls in the wood that brought to mind the faces of a dog, and between them spiders had strung webs that now hung thick with dust. She counted them. Every detail was sifted carefully to check for truth, from the bite of her nails into her palms to the tame spit of the hearthfire and the scents of woodsmoke and cooking food.

When she was finally satisfied that the world around her had not been presented as a trick for her mind to follow, she tried to move. Flemeth’s dubious mercy could not be trusted. Someone had taken her armour, her weapons, and stripped her down to a plain shift that rasped against her skin.

Her first attempt failed when the protest in her muscles sent her falling back, panting, but with gritted teeth she changed tack and rolled onto one arm instead of straight up, and from there curled around until her feet planted into the curly strands of a sheepskin rug. Even that taxed her, driving the pulse in her neck and the saw in her breath as if she had already been three rounds in the lists, and it galled to have to settle her hand against her sternum –

Alistair’s necklace had gone. The familiar weight of the chain was not around her neck, the amulet bearing Andraste’s image no longer resting against her collarbone. Panicked, she threw herself upright, already searching the pillow and the floor for a telltale glimpse of silverite, but with barely a wobble of warning, her legs refused to take her weight. She went down hard enough that she had to throw out an arm to stop her skull cracking on the flagstone floor, though it didn’t save the skin of her knees.

“Hang it all,” she snarled, as blood welled from the cuts. Her legs trembled, the muscles atrophied into bare cords beneath the skin.

Before her horrified mind could make sense of the sight, footsteps running from outside marked her time. With another snarl she lunged for a candlestick that had been set on the bedside drawer she had narrowly missed as she went down and held it like a club, though by rights it would barely do more damage than her fists.

The figure who opened the door a moment later stopped on the threshold as she took in Rosslyn’s position crumpled on the floor, her large green eyes wide above the Dalish markings on her cheeks.

“Oh – no! you shouldn’t be out of bed!” She started forward, tucking a bobbed lock of black hair behind one pointed ear.

Rosslyn bared her teeth. “Stay away from me.”

“I’m here to help you,” the elf replied, somewhat hopefully.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “Where am I? The last thing I remember –”

“If your memory’s coming back, that’s good!” But the optimism faded in the face of Rosslyn’s continued hostility. “My name is Merrill, and you’re safe – I was asked to look after you, by Asha’bellanar herself,” she added proudly.

The name stirred something in Rosslyn’s memory, but she didn’t drop the candlestick. Seeing her hands shake, Merrill put up her hands and made her way over to the hearth in slow movements, unhooking the staff slung across her back to lean it against the wall as she crouched in front of the stewpot.

“You must be hungry, it’s been days since you’ve eaten – or years, really,” she said. “I’m not sure what the best way is to measure time in the Fade when you’re physically there. You must have seen some fascinating sights.”

“Years?” The candlestick clattered to the floor.

There was no telling how many. Their surroundings showed the typical interior of a Fereldan homestead, with a levelled stone foundation and walls made from hand-planed timber, a design that had served well for generations but offered no clues for context about where they were, or the state of the world beyond. Rosslyn could well believe Flemeth able to survive unchanged for decades, but thinking on it drew her mind to the terror that perhaps enough time had passed to wither away everything she had left behind. She had seen such things in the Fade, after all, the works of entire ages that rose and fell in in the space it took to draw a single breath. She pushed her head into her hands. Was Ferelden still the same beyond the walls of her prison as when she left it? Had the war ended? And what of Alistair, with whom she had vowed to stand against all hardship? With her body so weakened, she had a slim chance of escaping and finding her way to him. Even if she were still somewhere within the Teyrnir of Highever, the likelihood of being found by her brother’s men or the king’s was outmatched by the possibility of less savoury characters stumbling across her when she would be unable to defend herself.

She looked up through her fingers and her growing panic as Merrill approached with a rough wooden bowl filled with whatever had been in the stewpot. The elf’s anxious smile seemed genuine, and as she offered the bowl with a chunk of dense, crusty bread, Rosslyn breathed deep and decided to take it as such. After all, if any harm was meant to her, she would have woken up in chains instead of a warm, clean house – if at all. Hating how the weight of it made her hands tremble, she took the offered bowl and the bread with a cautious sniff. The rich yellow soup within was thicker than the fine broths served at high table, more like a puréed sauce, with flecks of green herbs throughout and something pale and crumbly scattered over the surface.

“Asha’bellanar… That’s what the Dalish call Flemeth, isn’t it?” she asked cautiously as she dipped the bread into the mix.

“That’s not something most humans know,” Merrill replied, the corners of her mouth ticking upwards in pleased surprise.

Rosslyn shrugged. “Two Dalish came to the palace on Flemeth’s word that we should go to Ostagar. At the time, I didn’t know whether to believe them.”

“That would have been Ethalas and Tamlen.” The elf shifted into the space next to Rosslyn on the sheepskin. “They were from my clan.”

“You sound sad.”

“I haven’t seen any of them since I agreed to follow Asha’bellanar.”

“Did your Keeper send you like she sent them?” Rosslyn asked.

Merrill shook her head and silence fell between them. Not wanting to pry, Rosslyn turned her attention back to the soup, and with it, the unsettlingly bizarre feeling of having food in her hands. The last she had eaten was a ration of hardtack as she was dressed for battle at Ostagar. Since then, she had dreamed of feasts, and rivers of wine where she could drink her fill, but the Fade contained nothing of substance, and eventually even the memory of flavour had been forgotten in her trudge across that endless, empty plain. If not for the need to regain her strength in order to find Alistair and return to her former life, she might have listened to the nausea prowling through her insides and pushed away even this simple dish. As it was, she closed her eyes and brought the mopped chunk of bread to her lips.

The taste exploded on her tongue, salt and sweet and the aroma of the herbs used to season the other ingredients. She recognised the taste of squash and sage, and a gaminess that was almost like goat’s cheese but more pungent, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut. Her stomach heaved.

“Is it that bad?” Merrill cried clapping her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry, Hahren Paivel always did despair of my cooking but I tried to make this exactly as Sylissa always did when the children were sick. I’d hoped –”

But Rosslyn ignored her, already devouring the rest of the bowl. The bread was too much work to chew so she set it aside, but the soup warmed her and went down in gulps to quench the wakened fire of her appetite, and though more than half of it still remained when she sat back, she could feel the life seeping into her body, fleshing her out as if before she had only been a wash on a painter’s canvas. Though she fought against the well of fatigue that came with the relief, she could already feel herself nodding.

“Thank you,” she said to Merrill, who was still hovering nervously. “I could not have asked for a finer first meal.”

“I’m rather glad I didn’t poison you,” came the answer. “I was worried humans might not be able to eat elvhen food.”

“City elves eat the same food as humans,” she pointed out.

“That’s true, I suppose – oh!” Placing one hand on Rosslyn’s arm, she reached around with the other to one of the pouches belted at her waist, and with a delicate clink of metal pulled out an engraved disc on a short silverite chain. “It’s special, isn’t it?” she asked. “I had to take it off you while you were recovering so it didn’t break.”

Rosslyn took it in wary, reverent fingers. “My husband gave it to me to keep safe.” For a moment, all she could do was look into the serene face of Andraste and swallow back her tears. The amulet might be all she had left of him. “Where are we?”

“I’m… not supposed to tell you.”

“I need to get to Denerim as soon as possible, I need to get word to the king that –”

Unless she no longer had a place at court. With the aftermath of a civil war to cause instability, she could hardly imagine the Landsmeet would sit by while their ruler left the throne unsecured, and even before Alistair was thrown into Valesh Aeducan’s path she recalled the veritable parade of young noblewomen who had tried to make an impression on him after his title was recognised. And then there was Anora. When they had marched south she had been in the tower awaiting judgement, with her crowd of supporters grumbling but appeased by the stay of punishment for her involvement with her father. What if –

No. Giving space to such thoughts could only end in self-defeat. Once more centring herself with a breath, she turned to Merrill, the amulet held tight in her fist.

“Tell me everything you know,” she commanded.

The days passed slowly as Rosslyn worked to get her strength back, the walls of her prison slowly expanding to include first the yard where the chickens pecked for grubs, and then the rim of the clearing where Flemeth had brought her, in a dell where the trees grew too tall to admit any view of the landscape beyond. The mixed stands of oak and beech that barred her path let her guess they were somewhere in the northern part of the country, but nothing more certain, and though she looked in every direction, the only column of smoke she found was the one rising from her own chimney, so she could not hope for a nearby settlement, either.

It did not hinder her determination. Once she recovered enough to walk from one side of the clearing to the other without needing to rest, she donned a cloak, strapped Talon to her belt, and pushed through the scrub into the forest, keeping the sun to her left. When she emerged into the clearing again less than an hour later, the commiserating look Merrill offered barely helped calm the flare in her temper.

She tried again, and again, until her attempts and the days blurred together. Whichever direction she chose, her path inevitably led her back to the house, and even when she tied string to the branches as she went, she could not find her way. Ostagar was eighteen months gone, with no news of the court, and as reality slowly worked its way back into Rosslyn’s bones, the pain of Alistair’s absence grew like a canker. It felt too much like defeat to stop trying, however, so she took up her sword forms instead, running through them all until her limbs shook from exhaustion and she turned feverish again.

“You were in the Fade in your physical body, you can’t expect to be springing about like a halla fawn right away,” Merrill chided that night as she checked her temperature with the back of one small hand.

She offered a wry smile. “I’m sorry to undo all of your good work.”

“Not all of it,” Merrill allowed. “The rules of this world don’t apply in the Fade, so your body was sort of… stuck, like a fly getting trapped in tree sap, but when you came back, everything you went through caught up all at once. Or at least, that’s my best guess. Nobody’s walked in the Fade like that since the days of Arlathan, and never for so long.”

“And so is the Golden City blackened with each step you take in my Hall,” Rosslyn quoted.

“What’s that?”

“It’s from the Chant of Light.” Unconvinced she might be by the Maker’s Word, but like any good noble child, Rosslyn had been thoroughly schooled in its teachings. “Tevinter magisters lifted the Veil and stormed the Maker’s city, only to be cursed with the Blight for their trouble.”

“Well… you haven’t been tainted.” Merrill smiled. “That’s a good thing. You just have to be patient.”

“I will not be kept here.”

Too many people needed her, too much might happen if she lingered.

And yet, how could she face Alistair looking as she did now? Her hollowed cheeks stared at her corpselike from her reflection in the water bucket every morning, the shadows of her ribs swelled with every breath, and the armour once made for her rattled on her frame as if she were a child dressing up in her parents’ clothes. If he were to see her, what pity would follow his touch as he traced her suffering? Guilt would plague him, and perhaps revulsion, and the thought of either was like a stab through the heart, though as she lay on her cot in the dark of night refusing the pull of sleep, those were not the only fears that kept her from rest.

Merrill helped. Her endless optimism infected even the bleakest of Rosslyn’s moods, and she had a way of guilting a person after a disagreement that reminded her of the artful silences Nan used to employ whenever Cuno got loose in the kitchen. Without any other company but each other, they spent their days swapping stories as they divvied up the chores of the house, and in doing so Rosslyn discovered she wasn’t the only one in Flemeth’s debt, though her new companion always changed the subject when it brushed too close to the nature of her deal with the witch.

“If we’re to be tools for whatever grand scheme she’s plotting, surely we would be more use not left to rust out here in the back end of nowhere,” she groused one evening as they shared their meal. “I could have gotten word – said something – but instead I’m trapped here doing nothing.” Summer was fading from the trees, the days growing shorter as the verdancy of their surroundings turned to shifting hues of bronze and gold. “Are you sure you can’t try to lift the enchantment she’s put on the clearing?”

With a sympathetic look and considerable patience, Merrill shook her head. “The enchantments she added when we were brought here are older magics than I was ever taught. If I try to unravel the spells without knowing where they start, it might make things worse.”

“I need to go home.”

“You’re lucky to have one,” the elf replied. “My clan won’t take me back. This is all I have.”

Rosslyn glanced to her sharply, but she refused to say more, and they spent the rest of the night in bitter silence.

A jingle of harness through the morning mist a few weeks later gave them the first sign of Flemeth’s arrival. A pair of mismatched cobs plodded into the clearing ahead of a closed wagon that should have been too big to make it through the dense underbrush, and at the reins an old woman sat wrapped in a cloak, completely innocuous except for the golden gleam of her eyes. When she halted the wagon in front of the house, she pulled the scarf from around her face to reveal the cold twist of that ever-present smirk.

“I see your convalescence has not doused your fire,” she said to Rosslyn, who had emerged from the house with Talon resting on her hip.

“I do not care to be kept a prisoner,” she growled in return. “You had no right to keep me here.”

“Didn’t I?” One fine eyebrow arched. “You entered a bargain when I came to you in the Fade. You said you wanted to live, and I told you there would be a price. You might have thanked me for it before you started berating me, or do Couslands no longer keep their word?”

She lifted her chin. “If you want my debt paid then let me pay it and have done. I have people waiting for me.”

“And people whose lives you fear go on without you,” Flemeth retorted. She climbed down from the driver’s seat, unhurried, joints cracking. “I told you once of the wars and deaths that would happen without your leave, but it takes living through death to see the truth of it, wouldn’t you say? You need not worry. I have come to take you for what’s needed.”

“I want to see Alistair.”

The amusement in the old witch’s face turned to ice. “You are in no position to make demands of me, girl. What would you do, go to him only to say that you must leave again?”

Before she could answer with more than a scowl, Merrill joined them, dressed in travelling clothes and with the bag where she kept her few belongings slung over her shoulder.

“Andaran atish’an, Asha’bellanar,” she murmured, bowing low.

“There now,” Flemeth crowed. “Someone with manners. You should ready to leave, we have a long journey ahead of us.”

Shutting up the house took less than an hour. They doused the fire and caught the chickens to take with them, loaded Rosslyn’s armour into the back of the wagon with supplies for the road, and when everything was settled, Flemeth climbed back into the driver’s perch without so much as a backward glance.

“Aren’t you going to tie me up, or put me under a Sleep?” Rosslyn asked, suspicious.

“I have no need,” came the airy reply. “Because I will tell you what you are to do, and after that, you will stay of your own volition.”

“You seem very sure of that.”

Flemeth chuckled. “I am an old, old woman, and I have seen your like before. Honour and duty will serve to bind you just as well as magic, as it did your ancestors.”

Still reluctant, Rosslyn climbed up next to Merrill, who beamed and offered her a pocket of warm bread filled with honey and chopped nuts.

“Well, you didn’t want to be left behind, did you?” she asked. “I’m sure this’ll be exciting.”

For the first few days, the journey took them through disorienting countryside along barely visible trackways, but eventually the ground rose and the forest opened ahead of the cart into the sparse pine slopes of the Frostbacks. With such a landmark, Rosslyn could have cut her way across-country to a settlement and from there on to Denerim, even with the dangerous weather closing in with the end of the year, but as the witch had predicted, she did not. She had learned what was needed of her, the consequences if she deserted, and she had not forced the Nightmare back into the Fade only for the world to shatter around her mere months after she fell into it again.

So she stayed. She watched the scenery from the back of the cart as it mellowed from frowning, snow-capped peaks to the gently undulating plains of southern Orlais, and she made no complaint when she and Merrill were once more shut away, this time in townhouse in the noble quarter of Halamshiral. A few weeks, Flemeth promised, and then she could reclaim her life and its petty entrapments.

The witch herself faded into the background of the house, the puppeteer behind the curtain as preparations were made to infiltrate the palace with the opening of the winter season. Dresses were made, and introductions, and if the servants were hollow-eyed and their hostess too vacant to hold a conversation, Rosslyn chose not to concern herself with it. Blood magic was an evil against which she could not win alone, one that so far hadn’t been turned on her only because Flemeth needed her mind intact. Alistair would not have approved of her silence, her compromise, but she shoved that knowledge to the back of her mind along with all the other choices she would rather forget. Compared to the dead at South Reach, the sacrifices at Lothering, the fate of one overwrought Orlesian noblewoman mattered little.

With Merrill’s help, by the time the First Night Ball arrived she had charmed, bribed, and enchanted her way into one of the guest rooms of the palace itself. From there, she joined the nameless throng into the entrance hall in the plain mask of someone too humble too be noticed, and waited for Morrigan to appear.

It was then she caught the first whispers.

“Have you seen him yet?”

“He has not made his entrance.”

“They say he still mourns.”

“I saw him in Kirkwall last year, a man so handsome should have company to match, even if he is a dog lord.”

“You, cherie? He’s the empress’ prize – why else do you think she would bring him here as her personal guest? She means to have Ferelden.”

“His advisors mean him to have someone, no matter who. Any of us might catch his eye.”

The words made her heart bound behind her ribs. Who else could they be talking about, but Alistair? Flemeth’s smile as she left for the palace made more sense now, the repeated order to keep herself unknown. She lost the rest of what was said by her neighbours through the rushing in her ears. He was supposed to be in Denerim, far away. But not waiting for her; she had seen to that herself.

She was grateful for the mask when he appeared a few moments later at the top of the stairs to the royal wing with her brother in tow. Fergus hunched slightly, his once-wide shoulders gaunt and his strong resemblance to their father only increased with the time and distance they had been apart, but it was Alistair who held her eye. His hair had grown long, half to his shoulders, still the same tawny bronze as ever where it curled slightly around his ears, the strong line of his jaw accented by the trim of a beard. He had been unable to grow one when they had been together, the hairs on his chin had been sparse and patchy and he had pouted every time she teased him about it. As he breathed deep, she wondered if the same were true for the hair on his chest.

Her own breath sawed in her throat as he descended into the crowd, the cold marble of the balustrade beneath her palm holding her upright during the interminable moment when he passed within fifteen feet of where she stood, completely unaware of her existence. Of course she followed him. She watched him make smiles at the nobles, yearned towards him like a weed towards the sun, reading the tense line of his shoulders and the way his mirth didn’t quite meet his eyes, the whole time aching with the tear between what she had done and what she still had left to do.

And then he looked at her. The glance was brief, a flash like the sun on a shard of glass as it searched the room, but it stopped her breath nonetheless. Only when he turned away again and moved into the ballroom did the tingle fade from her limbs, and by then her purpose had reasserted itself.

Draw attention to yourself and they will know you for a cuckoo, Flemeth had told her. They will not show mercy, and I will not help you.

Alistair’s presence raised the stakes. Before, she might have been able to stick to her borrowed identity if she were caught, but with the threat of recognition came the knowledge that Ferelden would share in whatever punishment Celene thought up for her if she did not succeed.

She could not allow it.

At least growing up as a reluctant court flower had taught her how to be invisible in a room full of nobles. When the castellan announced her name she crossed the floor in the perfect attitude of courtly grace, unable to entirely quell the hope that he would see her, though the hesitation as she glanced to the dais cost her a stern glance from Celene. Others more worthy remained to be greeted, after all. Alistair did not spare her even that much.

If I had to choose between you and Ferelden… I don’t know if I could make that choice. The words, spoken a lifetime ago as if they were yesterday, reared in her mind as the night wore on, hours passing with Morrigan still absent, with Alistair at the centre of the room twisting like a flame on a dark night on the arm of so many eager women that bile rose in the back of her throat. The touch of his eyes burned her with every accidental glance, but she was just another face in the crowd, as alone as when she had awoken at Ostagar and found the other side of her bed empty. The thought had yet to pass when someone knocked into her.

“Oh! Do excuse me.” The familiarity of the voice shook Rosslyn from the bitter line of her thoughts, but not quickly enough to note the flash of red hair as the stranger rose and caught her by the wrist.

“Consider it forgotten,” she muttered quickly, already turning away.

“No please, I insist. I must –” Leliana’s gasp cut off the rest of the words, the mask in her hand rising in a graceful arc to cover the slip.

Against her better judgement, Rosslyn turned. Sharp blue eyes peered up at her, still wide with shock.

“It is you.”

She reached for Leliana’s arm. “You have mistaken me, my lady,” she said, deliberately. “Please, forget the offence, my mind was distracted and I failed to see where I was going.”

“He has seen you,” the other woman pressed.

Hope – wild hope like the thundering of horses – roared in her ears, but only for an instant. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“I would not wish to accuse an old friend of lying, nor indeed a new acquaintance,” Leliana retorted, threatening with a steady look, while around them people with their eyes on the nearby dancers no doubt listened with interest.

“It would be an unfortunate thing to do in the middle of a crowd,” Rosslyn agreed.

They wove through the press of bodies to a darker corner where the heat and sweat of the dancing didn’t reach so strongly, with pleasant smiles on their faces to deflect the attention of anyone looking for court intrigue. Rosslyn took a glass of wine from the tray of a passing server, needing the fortification of the alcohol as much as the cover it provided.

“Now, what shall I tell him?” Leliana asked when they were finally out of earshot.

“Nothing,” she replied, after a casual sip. “He can’t know I’m here.”

“If you knew…”

“Promise me you won’t tell him,” she interrupted.

But Leliana stood her ground, a fierce light of loyalty in her eyes that nevertheless remained hidden from those around them. “Will you?”

“You used to have faith in me,” Rosslyn muttered eventually, after a moment of scrutiny. She received a calculating look before the gaze skittered away to the warmer light in the middle of the room.

“Very well, I promise I will not tell him who you are.”

They parted. The relief that swelled, the sense of betrayal that came with it, followed Rosslyn back into the crowd like a dog at her heels. Any glamour she had seen in the spectacle around her had tarnished, and now only the need to not let the night go wasted kept her from stalking out of the ball entirely. She needed Morrigan to be here, distracted, and then perhaps when she had done what was needed she might seek out Leliana again, and then –

The music died away. The castellan’s staff rapped sharply against the polished floor. She stiffened, breath held as a dark-haired woman glided through the double doors at the far end of the room, and as those around her crowded forward to get a better look at the empress’ favourite curiosity, she edged in the other direction, her eyes darting to the palace guard dotted in alcoves around the walls. But it wasn’t an Orlesian who stepped out in front of her to bar her path.

“My lady, your presence has been requested,” Morrence said.

And now, her plans shattered into ruin at her feet, she stood in the cold night air with Alistair’s hand on her cheek, his breath warm against her skin, and her heart all but thrashing loose of her ribcage to be closer still. Moonlight washed the colour from his eyes but she recognised their intensity, bold as the sun as he drank her in. She should have known better than to think she could have ever hidden from him.

“Rosslyn…” He breathed it, strangled and desperate.

She could not say anything at all, only squeeze her eyes shut and lean into the palm resting against her face, and hold back tears when he brought his forehead down to hers. He smelled of leather and sweat and smoke.

“Rosslyn. I – this isn’t real.” He swallowed. “I’m dreaming.”

“No,” she managed, trembling. “I’m real. It’s me.”

“What –” A helpless, hysterical giggle breached his lips. “How?”

She sighed, shook her head, pressed her hand against the back of his so he wouldn’t stop touching her. “It’s a long story.”

At that, he pulled back to search her face, a line drawn between his brows as he brushed a thumb over the corner of her mouth. Her heart fluttered, but instead of leaning in his gaze drifted back towards the ballroom, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips

“You can tell me all about it,” he promised, plucking up her hand to place a kiss against her knuckles. “We’ll have all the time in the world.”

“Alistair, what are you –?”

He stepped backwards, still with their fingers linked as if she would follow after him. “You’re alive,” he said, still with that note of disbelief in his voice. “Celene might not be happy about it but that’s no reason not to tell everyone, right?”

The night-time chill sank around her again as she dropped her gaze, pulled her hand away.

“I can’t.”

Tension crept into his shoulders, and through the silence that reached between them was brief, it left a bitter taste on Rosslyn’s tongue.

“Why not?” he asked, too quiet.

“I told you. I was sent here to pay a debt, and until I do nobody can know who I am.”

“But…” And then he stopped, glanced back to the ballroom again, and licked his lips as cconfusion hardened into something worse. “Was that supposed to include me? Would you have told me at all if I hadn’t brought you out here?”

Unable to bear the hurt in his expression and unable to lie, she turned back to the balustrade and laid her hands flat against the frosty stone. “I didn’t know you would be here. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

“That’s your excuse?” he demanded.

“Alistair –”

“You’ve been alive all this time and you didn’t think I would want to know? Do you even know why I’m here, why they’re all gathering around me like blightwolves?”

“Of course I do,” she snapped. “But what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just walk up to you and unmask myself in front of everyone!”

“Why not? It’s been two years, Rosslyn.” His voice cracked. “I mourned you. Andraste help me, there was a funeral – your brother sobbed like an infant because the last person he had left in the world died and I couldn’t comfort him because it was my fault for not keeping you safe.” As if of their own accord, his feet took a halting half-step towards her, broken off when he realised what he was doing. “I’ve had to go on and try to rule Ferelden by myself when we promised we’d do it together, and all this time you’ve been – what, swanning about playing hide and seek in Orlais? Has it been fun? Have you enjoyed watching me suffer from across the border?”

She stared at him, refusing to flinch. When they had first met, she might have risen to his anger, snarled back and bitten deep just to have the final word, but facing him now with all the hope for what their reunion might have been crumbling under her feet like a cliff into the sea, she found exhaustion quenching the fire of her battle-blood.

“I was in the Fade,” she told him without inflection. “When I fought the Nightmare the rift closed behind me and I couldn’t get back.” The featureless plain, the shadows of demons hounding her steps, greedy for the life in her veins – she pushed the memories to the back of her mind.

“But you’re here. Now. Which means you must have gotten out somehow – how long ago was that?”

“Three months,” she admitted. “Maybe four.”

“Four months.”

“Don’t you think I would have sent word if I could?” She had passed waystations, merchant caravans, outposts of militia who had all refused to believe her identity or even give her the charity of pen and paper.

“Clearly I don’t – you’ve only told me now because I forced it out of you!”

“Keep your voice down,” she hissed. “I could have let you just walk away and forget about me but I didn’t. Maybe I should have.”

Alistair rocked backwards at the acidity in her tone, his expression tightening in a way that let her know the blow had struck, that it couldn’t be taken back.

“You aren’t who I thought you were,” he muttered at last. “The Rosslyn Cousland I knew wouldn’t skulk around some foreign ballroom like a Crow, and she wouldn’t have tried to hide from me. I would have liked to know the woman I loved was standing twenty feet from me while I was getting pawed at and drooled over like a butcher’s bone, but I guess that wasn’t her.”

Pride would not let him see her fall. She breathed, steady with one hand on the balustrade, the moonlight on her back and the faint cadence of the orchestra surging in to fill the gap left by the silence. Loved. Past tense. It would not have mattered anyway. Perhaps this had been part of Flemeth’s plan all along, an added spur of cruelty to keep the mind of her pawn on the task at hand and not running loose with the proverbial bit between her teeth.

“You have no right to stand in judgement of me,” she told him. “Believe what you want. It does not change my purpose here.”

Spine straight in the manner of the queen she had once so briefly been, she set the court mask back in place over her eyes and tied the knots so it would not slip again, and then kept beyond the reach of Alistair’s arms as she headed back towards the light of the ballroom, so he could not reach for her. Whatever fairytale she had expected for their reunion, her heart splintered at the reality, a sapling under the blow of an axe. She still had a duty, and she would do it, as she had been taught since childhood as a Cousland born. Beyond that lay a crevasse she could not have imagined would have yawned so far. Alistair had loved her. And then she had died.

#dragon age #dragon age: origins #dragon age origins #da:o #alistair theirin #king alistair #alistair x warden #alistair x cousland #king alistair theirin #rosslyn cousland #f!cousland #cousland #the falcon and the rose

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swimminginfics · 4 years

Note

Maybe a writing where Luke finds out the Reader’s force sensitive? Can it also be fluffy.... idk I’m a sucker for fluff lol. tysm!

|A/N: I love fluff too so don’t worry haha. I don’t think I did much justice to y’know the whole area in terms of fluff content. And I’m still unsure about the ending. I really hope you like it though!

|Word count: 1,504 words

|Warnings: none, normal space stuff, Han is space Dean Winchester

|Summary: This wasn’t supposed to happen, really. When you go on a scouting mission with Han and Luke, you didn’t exactly expect to crash into a Stormtrooper base.

There were instances in your life when things happened that you’d like to think were very good coincidences. You know? Like when you were with your friends in the cafeteria and got mad that this girl flirted with Luke when she suddenly her hand slipped from your table. Or even further back when you were play fighting with pipes at your father’s worksop with your brothers, and you just could feel when they were going to hit next. You just dismiss it as great intuition, but something deep inside you knew there was much more. Sadly, there was never a proper opportunity to reflect on such things. Ever since you joined the Rebellion.

Something about today gave you a horrible sinking feeling. Much to your dismay, Leia had set you up to go on a mission with the base’s two star pilots for a small scouting mission. She really is playing the role of matchmaker huh. It could be that, but there was something else telling you visiting this new place was bad bad bad. Nevertheless, you picked up your things, stuffed them in your bag and headed to the Falcon.

The planet was meant to be a new hideout for the base, it was filled with luscious trees and shrubbery. Opening the hatch of the Falcon, you were greeted with the ever-present smell of a blend of sweet flowers and fallen rain that lingered on your nose.

You had your blaster holstered to your thigh and the other to your hip. Atop, the green ponchos to blend with the environment. Boots pressing against the humid dirt were your main traitor, leaving light footprints of where you’ve been. Your mind still reminiscing on the moments prior to walking out of the ship.

[flashback]

“Alright, this is a simple reconnaissance mission, I suggest that we land in the area we scanned that had the most raw materials. If there were to be any stormtroopers setting up a base it would be there too.” You said, standing in front of the table at the cockpit. Walking around and gathering supplies for what was to come soon.

“That sounds like a reasonable plan.” Han put his hand to his face, deep in thought.

“Leia said there wouldn’t be anyone in the planet but hermits.” Luke chimed in

“That’s from her sources. We really don’t know what lies there until we head down Luke.” You explained

“Kid, there might be people trying to trick us into a trap.” Han turned to look at the blonde, trying his best to be convincing.

“They wouldn’t have given us coordinates if they didn’t know.”

“Luke, a lot can change in 3 months…Han and I have been doing things like this before the Rebellion.” You tried to reason, “There’s times when people want to see you fall. Or they have been bribed to lie.”

“Which,” Han raised his hand, pointing at the ceiling, “puts us into a more tight spot. If our suppliers have other intentions then we gotta hurry and get the hell out of Hoth.”

Luke pursed his lips, debating wether or not to question the two of you, but remained quiet.

[End flashback]

You gave a soft hum, still deep in thought, analyzing the flowers blooming above your head. While you felt for him, this time you knew that this was more your line of work than his. You got so lost in thought you were falling behind the two men. There were faint echoes of animals crying up in the trees while the ground carried a soft rumble, barely traceable, it was like a liquid warmth purr against the soles of your boots. You payed no mind and hurried to your teammates who were by a bush, crouching, and looking into the distance.

“So what’s the sitch?” You crouched with them.

“That’s a base alright, we don’t know if its empty yet, though.”

“Should we go investigate?” Luke turned towards you for confirmation, eyes looking intently at yours, wishing for your approval. A pink tint sneaked its way to your cheeks while Han rolled his eyes at the lovesick puppy that was his best friend.

“I say, we keep our traps shut and see if there are any stormtroopers around.” Han crouched lower into the bushes. These were by the edge of a steep slope, and at the bottom lied the solid grey block of a building. Minutes were on the verge of melting into hours when an alarm siren started ringing in the block.

“Well I’ll be damned.” You muttered. The ringing of the alarm was deafening everything around you, leaving a high pitched ringing in your ears. Luke’s mouth was moving…shouting? But you could not hear anything. Panic started to flood your body when you saw Han grab his blaster and start shooting at something. Now with you other senses heightened, you felt the floor started to rumble under you, two speeders were heading your direction.

You pushed Luke out of the way, only for a stormtrooper to grab you by the collar and pull you with him in the speeder. Through the thick bushes and down the plateau. You started wiggling away from their grip, kicking in the air while your hands were holding onto the poncho. A kick landed on your captors ribs and they let you go flying directly to the concrete wall. Your lungs felt flat, all the oxygen leaving through your gasp upon impact, heaving wheezing mixing with the cracking of ribs. And there you laid, on the ground, gasping for air while arms clutch your sides. The ringing began to cease and your body began to feel heavier by the second.

Meanwhile, Luke and Han had hijacked the other speeder and chased after you. Only thing was, troopers were now leaving the building to hunt down the culprits. Muffled yells spinned around your head, the red colors of the blasters transforming your vision into a blurred Jackson Pollock painting. Said weapons were going off until they had the two men circled, they dropped their weapons and raised their hands in surrender. One stormtrooper raised their gun and hit Luke across the head, Han yelled and tried to fight back, only to be kicked to the ground.

Things weren’t meant to go this way.

You felt the familiar sting of tears, and a new surge of raw power flowing through you. Your body pretty much lifted by itself. The ground quaked, dirt under your feet cracking, and stones skittered around. The bodies of the stormtroopers lifted momentarily of the ground and all flew towards the building. You reached for your friends but your knees gave up and you slumped to the ground once more.

It all went dark.

—

It first started with the twitch of a nose, a quiver of a lip, the feeling of cold air against exposed skin, the familiar hum of machinery, the feeling of fingers lacing into your very own, the feeling of a thumb gently rubbing circles against your cheek. The heavy lids of your eyes gently rose, and light began to refract.

Oh,

There you were, lying in bed, in the falcon. Lukes eyes bore to yours with such worry and so much of a feeling you couldn’t recognize.

“Luke?” you jumped at the sound of your own voice, hoarse and crackly.

“I’m here, I’m here…” Tears welled up in his eyes, “I-I thought you…” He shifted his arms and cradled your body. You knew what he meant.

“You know I can’t leave, if I leave, who’s gonna be there to fix R2” You wheezed a joke.

Silence followed, there was a lump on your throat while Luke nuzzled his head on the crook of your neck.

“Han told me you saved us, I-why—how—Why didn’t you tell me you could use the force?” he mumbled

“I didn’t know I could,” You gripped your arms tighter, “I was so scared, so scared to see you die. I don’t know how—or, or why, but one moment I felt like I could climb a mountain, and then they all flew.”

“We’ll figure this out together, I’ll help you in using the force.”

You shifted back, trying to get to see his face, your eyes locked into his, speaking a language fo their own, repeating those three words that you were so afraid to say. His hand moved to brush a hair strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek and down to your bottom lip. Both of your forms inched closer to the other, until they molded together. Those three words were finally spoken, as you continued to hold each other for the remaining of the flight, thanking the stars.

The end

[might come back to check spelling and all that]

#luke skywalker #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #luke x reader #luke skywalker x reader

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twoidiotwriters1 · 5 years

Text

Home- Chapter 3 (Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x F!Oc)

Words: 2,169

Warning: Curses= Cool stuff

Chapter 2 / Chapter 4

“Wow, stop there. Are we going to help them? ” Han growled, nodding. I put my hand on his shoulder and force him away from the boys. “Han, this may come at the hands of the First Order, He could see me! We are risking a lot ”

“Quiet, Kid. That will not happen. We will deliver the droid to Leia and then we will leave”

"Is that your plan?" I ask incredulously.

"Basically."

“Your plans never work, Solo. I have a bad feeling"

"Hey, we won't let him hurt you again, everything will be fine" I raise my eyebrows.

"He could hurt you too, Han"

“I don't believe it, but we will not reach those situations. Come on, Breathe”

_________________________________

“Chewie, I already told you that I will not. No matter how much you beg,” the Wookie continues to complain, among his growls I can understand that he already wants the bandage removed, even if he still bleeds a little. "I already told you no," I say and then leave the ship.

I walk ignoring Chewbacca and find the pretty planet that already knew, I know that the friend Han was referring to was Maz, I can't wait to see her again. I walk around the falcon to check if it has any other breakdown and when I don't find it I decide to go to the front, where Han and Rey are chatting while they see the lake.

"I was thinking of having more crew, Rey," I stop at Han's words. I frown uncertainly, he had never mentioned that before. “A second officer. Somebody help me. Someone to keep up with Chewie and me and appreciate the falcon”

Wait, what?

"But, I thought Kiara was your second officer," she replies. I am his second officer! "Wait, are you offering me a job?" Her tone changes, she seems excited.

I do not understand what is happening, Han is going to fire me? After so many years? How dare he? And without telling me before.

I feel a terrible pain in my chest and I move back so that I no longer listen to them. Did I do something wrong? I thought that-

In that Chewie and Finn walk out of the ship.

“Chewie," says Han turning "Check the ship," I already did it and he didn't even notice it, of course how was he going to do it? If you are preparing my replacement. I bite my bottom lip, he doesn't trust me anymore?

Ok, I can accept someone else in the crew, it would be great to have another girl on board, especially her, but Han said he needed a second officer. What about me? I’m not good enough, right? I tense my body when I look at Rey. A couple of sounds distract me, BB-8 approaches and tells me that the little stones around me shook for a moment, as if it were a tremor. Oh no.

"It's nothing" I sigh relaxing. "Sometimes it happens" without saying anything else, we all walk towards a construction at the end of the lake.

"Solo, why are we here?" Finn asks.

“To take your droid on a clean ship. The first order must have already detected us, we must change it to protect ourselves. Maz Katana is our best option to bring BB-8 to the resistance.” We arrive at the huge entrance of the building, high decorated with flags, symbols and statues.

"Can we trust her?" Finn asks.

“Relax, kid. She drove this trough for a thousand years.” We climbed the entrance stairs. "Maz is an acquired taste, so let me talk to me"

"Sure, as if that had worked for us before," I say sarcastically.

"Whatever you do, don't stare at it," he adds ignoring me.

“Stare at what?" Rey and Finn ask at the same time making me laugh.

“Nowhere”

The music plays and we find different types of creatures and races, Han and I get ahead, while the other two are admiring the place.

Suddenly we hear a shout "Han Solo!" causing all the attention to be focused on us. Great.

"Hi, Maz," Han says awkwardly. Maz approaches and everyone turns to their own business.

"Where is my boyfriend?" She questions.

“Chewie is working on the Falcon”

"I like that Wookie," She says making me laugh. She notices my presence. "Oh and my dear girl, Kiara," She adds taking my hands.

"It's nice to see you again, Maz," I said, leaning a little toward her small height.

"My pleasure, honey," She says adjusting her huge glasses and returns to Han. "But I assume they aren't here just to say hello." You need something, desperately. Let's get to the point,” She says, gesturing with her hand and walking to a table, we all follow her.

When we sit down, BB-8 tells her why we are here.

"A map? To Skywalker himself?” She laughs, looking at Han and me. "You got into trouble again," she teases.

"Maz, I need you to take this droid to Leia," She thinks.

“No," we all look surprised. "You two have long been escaping this fight. Go home,” I move in my uncomfortable chair.

"Leia doesn't want to see me," Han adds, denying.

"She would kill me if she sees me again," I feel the confused looks of Finn and Rey, but I ignore them.

"What battle?" Rey asks.

"The only battle, against the dark side" oh, here comes "Through time, I saw evil take many forms. The Sith, the Empire. Today the First Order. Its shadow spreads throughout the galaxy. We have to face them”

After that Finn goes defensive saying that no one can against the First Order. Maz analyzes it and notices that this guy just wants to run away. Rey tries to convince him, but he gets up and goes to other creatures that can help him. Rey follows.

"That went well," I say. I look up at the man, "I guess your crew broke again, Solo," I say smiling.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing, just that you'll still be stuck with me and Chewie"

"What?" He frowns, but then changes to realize, "You heard me talk to Rey,” I clench my teeth.

“When were you going to tell me? Leaving me on some uninhabited planet? ”

"Kid, it's not what you think, I-"

"I know what happens, Han. I'm not 18 anymore." I get up from my chair and walk to the exit.

"Where are you going?"

"You should worry about my replacement," I say and finally leave.

I walk towards the forest, my anger clouds my senses and all I can do is move on without knowing exactly where I'm going.

Among the trees, with my eyes fixated on my feet, my only company is the animals that live there, but the sound of nature is replaced by the same voice that has been chasing me, this time it is not a whisper.

I stop and look up looking around. Then you are a threat, it’s heard as an echo between the trees, followed by the sound of a lightsaber being activated. My head goes in all directions trying to find the origin of the voice, but there is no one else.

The pain in my head interrupts the sounds and every time it is more stabbing, I close my eyes. Now what I can hear is the agitated beat of my heart. My legs fail and I fall to my knees, screaming in pain until a memory comes to my mind.

Smoke enters the cabin causing Kiara to wake up confused. With difficulty, she sits on her bed and begins to cough. She doesn’t understand what is happening, with her sleepy eyes she can see that a powerful light enters the small wooden openings of her cabin. She gets out of bed and without thinking takes her lightsaber and leaves.

Bewilderment and fear govern her surroundings: everything is engulfed in flames, cries of help from their companions are heard in the distance. She looks to her right towards the path of the other cabins, she prepares to go, but a whisper interrupts her, at first she fails to understand and that is when she notices.

"Ben" whispers and looks straight ahead, she must go help others, but he is first. She returns and goes to the road to his friend's bedroom, but finds the cabin completely destroyed, his heart falls to think the worst. She shakes her head and closes her eyes for a moment concentrating on feeling the bond they both share.

"Ben" says in her mind, nothing, "Ben!"

"Kiara, you must come with me,” he replies causing relief in the girl.

"Where are you? You're good? We must help others, someone is destroying everything,” She says and opens her eyes.

"Come with me.”

"Ben, listen to me. Do you know where Luke is?" She returns to the other cabins.

"Stop!" She obeys, scared by the shout, "you must come with me, forget them, everyone is already dead,” She frowns. She can feel the danger everywhere, "Luke is the cause of all this.”

"No, that's not true,” tears fall down her cheeks, "they are screaming, we can still do something"

“Everything is lost, Kiara. Go to the temple entrance. We're both in danger, I won't let Luke hurt you. ”

"No! Enough!" I scream towards the forest and I sit on the ground. My cheeks are wet and my chest rises and falls quickly, "No more tricks!"

Suddenly I hear the sound of engines, I look up and a group of ships cross the sky, they are ships of the First Order.

“BB-8," I clean my face and get up quickly, returning to Maz's building. When I have vision of the entrance, the blaster shots start by making me stop. The ships shoot at the buildings, they all shout and run when they see the stormtroopers.

"We won't get to that," I repeat Han's words. “Sure"

I take out my blaster while I run and shoot the soldiers that I find on my way. In a moment I must hide among a pile of rubble to avoid the shots, only when I think it is convenient, I look out and continue with the fight.

"Where the hell is she?" I hear Han's scream among all the noise.

I look carefully, but I can't see where they are, so I hide and return to the forest, behind a leafy tree. In the distance I see Chewie and Han running in the opposite direction to mine. My next move is to change places, for a shot against my tree stops me and by reflection I bend down, with difficulty I go towards some rocks. Through the small spaces between rocks, I can see four stormtroopers raising their weapons towards my direction. "Shit."

"Will she be the girl they are looking for?" says one of them.

"I don't know, but we must take her"

The girl they are looking for? Rey.

The shots stop and I hear his steps approaching me. I smile at the thought of an idea and keep my blaster behind my pants.

"Please stop," I say, raising my arms out slowly. "Don't hurt me, I'll go with you" Such a good actress.

"Wait for her and warn Kylo Ren,” two of them approach, while another pulls out a small device, and I take advantage of the distraction.

"We have the girl-" I take out my gun and shoot at four. Everyone falls easily.

"No, you don’t.”

Suddenly I hear screams, but this time they sound excited, they are screams of victory in the distance, different ships fly and attack those of the First Order. The resistance.

"Back off!" the soldiers stop attacking and run to their ships.

I run back to the fortress. Several huge pieces of concrete obstruct my path, so I climb one of them to have a better vision and to continue.

Everything changes when my sight falls on a specific enemy ship. The entrance ramp is down and a black figure with a girl in her arms walks towards her.

"Holy Shit,” My feet fail and I fall to the ground covered with debris and glass. I complain when I feel something bury in my back.

"Kid!" Han comes to my side, "Are you alright?"

"My ego hurts right now," I say getting up with his help. When I'm already stable, I don't hesitate to hit his shoulder hard.

"Why was that?" He says complaining. “You should respect your elders, girl”

"Will we just hand them the droid and leave?" I yell at him and he makes a face.

"Did he see you?" He questions worriedly. I shake my head.

"I don’t think so"

"Rey!" We both turn to the other voice. Finn screams at the ship where Kylo Ren entered a few moments ago. Wait, he has Rey and she...

"Oh no…”

"What?" Han asks. My hands shake as I realize.

"I won’t be able to hide anymore"

#ben solo #kylor ren #star wars fanfic #ben solo x reader #twoidiots writing #star wars #home

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sanjuno · 5 years

Note

I can’t say I’ve had any other KHR ideas lately, but if you ever get inspired to write more Dragon!Skies stuff I would love to see it! 😁

Clearing out the drunk writing prompts backlog~ doot~doot~doo~ *shimmies*

Hibari Kyouya was not panicking.

The small animal had disappeared and Kyouya’s Committee had lost sight of the fake baby, but Kyouya was not panicking. Panicking was for herbivores.

Kyouya was a carnivore, and thus he was not panicking.

The fact that the small animal had disappeared was simply. Concerning him. Slightly.

A report came in. The fake baby had been spotted leaving the park. Kyouya did not bother to read the rest of the message and took off at a lope. If the fake baby had tried to harm the small animal again…

Kyouya grit his teeth to bite back an enraged snarl and ran faster.

/…/

“… do you eat? Fish? The creatures that live in the oceans tend to have larger body mass on average than land dwelling prey and your talons have webbing more like a crocodile paw than a falcon claw…” There was a boy with the look of partial foreign blood dragging an imperial dragon down the street.

Kyouya paused, aware of the fake baby glancing up at him but a bit too preoccupied by the unbelievable sight to start questioning. Cat-like green eyes were gleaming in excitement under shining silver hair. An elegant hand was locked around a branching horn, the stones from the rings adorning slender fingers flashing in the light. Skin too pale to be local was exposed by the extra wide collar slipping down off one shoulder.

The look on the dragon’s face was pure shock as it was hauled down the street by one horn without any apparent effort on the part of it’s captor. The stranger did not even seem to notice the weight of five meters of mythical creature he was pulling along with one hand. “… should see if the local library has any books regarding diet and habitat regardless of whether you can switch forms or not. It would be best to be aware of everything your species needs in advance of any troubles, especially when it comes to your health and…”

The fake baby cleared his throat. Kyouya tore his eyes away from the dragon’s beseeching gaze to glance down. Black eyes were dead as the fake baby spoke in the flattest voice imaginable. “The dragon is dame-Tsuna.”

… What? Kyouya struggled not to react, but his eyes widened despite his best efforts. “Explain.”

“Dame-Tsuna had his true power sealed when he was a child.” The fake baby frowned and waved a hand at the dragon. “I managed to unseal him with the Smoking Bomb’s help. The result was… unexpected. And he turned into that dragon. Smoking Bomb has been… enthusiastic about the situation. He knows a lot about mysterious animals.”

“… Hn.” So the silver haired intruder was supposedly a carnivore. Kyouya could work with that.

#Sanjuno's ficwork #Sanjuno's drunk #drunk writing #when the nightingale sings

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rainy-rose · 5 years

Text

Silver Serpent: Takeru and Vincent

Hullo, I needed to work a bit on Vincent and Takeru and their friendship before the plot and this snipped happened. I am not entirely pleased with it, but it id help me find out more about my boys. Enjoy! ^_^

TW: vague implication of a past suicide attempt

Waves came crashing on the rocks and shore. The air was thick with the smell of sea salt. The wind was lifting the sand and constantly moving it around, displeased with its position and frustrated that it could not dislocate larger chunks. On the horizon dark grey clouds were slowly making their way towards Rockcliffe Beach.

On a flat, light grey boulder, Takeru was laying on his side with his back to the water, a half-finished cigarette in the corner of his lips, and a black backpack with a small flashlight hanging from one of the zippers at the base of the rock. The rising gale was playing in his hair, long, thick, dark strands going all over the place, especially in his mouth and eyes. He shook his head. There were two black hairbands around his left wrist, but the intention of using them was nowhere to be found. Bored, seemingly uninterested dark brown, almost black eyes were slowly following the animals. Running around on his long slim legs, Schilo, the greyhound mix was snapping playfully at the peregrine falcon which was flying just a few inches above his muzzle. Hiei’s strong beak was open, short high pitched calls alternating with longer variously pitched ones. The dog was barking in response, an inviting delighted sound sometimes turning into a low, nonthreatening growl. They were fun to watch, their friendship always blooming despite their differences.

A short distance away, shoes and socks in hand, water lapping at his feet and ankles, Vincent was making his way towards the boulder. He had been walking for a while, listening to the calming sound of the waves. The last few weeks had been tiring, work piled up, urgent foreign requests for help keeping him up late into the night. He had been tired, stressed, sloppy and aggressive in conducting the training of his disciples. When his friend had suggested the quick getaway he was so quick to accept that he bumped his knees on the desk, cursing.

‘I’m going for a swim!’ he said in a monotone reaching the stone and taking off his light coat and shirt. It was cold, barely April, but Vincent did not feel it, his body temperature running higher than everybody else’s, his blood hot as the fires that were bending to his every whim and will. ‘I won’t be long!’ he added taking off the silver necklace he always wore and handing it over.

‘Careful!’ Takeru’s soft baritone rose slightly over the noise all around them. The cold metal of the zippo touched hardly touched the scrapped skin of his palm before long slender fingers closed around it and he was putting it around his neck for safe keeping.

And like that Vincent was gone, running into the water. Growing up next to the sea in a small Romanian town, swimming came natural to him. The waves were getting higher, the clouds closer, a storm imminent. He did not care! With every stroke he was getting deeper and deeper, farther and farther his body welcoming the exercise, the resistance of the current. Holding his breath, he dived in. The water was murky, impossible to see through. Less than twenty seconds passed before he rose to the surface and in another ten he was going under again. Getting used to the temperature was easy, by the fifth dive, the water around him was warming up a little, steam spiraling from the surface. Relief washed all over him. Closing his eyes he floated on his back, arms moving lazily from time to time. The temptation of staying there for hours was growing with every minute. It was so pleasant! He had not done this in almost a year and he missed it greatly!

Diving again, he searched blindly for the bottom, arms outstretched, legs and feet moving in a precise rhythm. Despite having enough air, his lungs started to hurt a bit after a short while. The pressure and tiredness were taking a toll on him. He ignored them and kept going deeper and deeper. The bottom was nowhere to find, but the water was getting colder, the air running out. He ignored the sensation, putting more force towards his goal. A small ray of light breached the darkness over his shoulder. He blinked confused, dizziness creeping in on him.

Something strong and slim coiled around his middle pulling him upwards. Looking around, the light was dancing in a strange pattern. Instincts kicked it. Increasing the heat in his hands he grabbed the thing, trying to free himself. It didn’t bulge. He tried again, higher and higher. It was an arm connected to a body. Shit!

Two heads emerged from the restless waves. Both had slightly tanned skin, one’s hair was cut short, the other’s was long and flowing. One was freezing, teeth chattering, the other was caught between confusion and remorse. Bright blue eyes met black.

‘I- id – a - aho!’ Takeru grumble stuttered, swimming towards the beach. His moves were difficult and slow, pain was running up and down his body. Teeth sank into cold numbed lips. The salt water was making everything worse. With every move of his hands the flashlight was nowhere to be seen. ‘W- What were you t - thinking?’ he asked as soon as they were back on the dry sand and in warm trousers. The pain subsided a little, the burns not deep enough to bleed. ‘What w- were you thinking?’ he asked again, throwing him the lighter. His tone was flat, anger hidden under layers and layers of indifference. Cold was chipping away at his control.

Vincent stared at him, not giving an answer. Not immediately anyway. He finished getting dressed, put the harness on Schilo and handed Takeru his own shirt and coat together with the leather glove for Hiei. ‘I was swimming, trying to reach the bottom’ he shrugged touching his friend’s arm, a green, heeling glow at the tip of his fingers.

Takeru looked at him, analyzing, running the words through his head, sniffing out for lies. Power coated the words, searching, separating, extracting the tone in which they were spoken and the emotions behind it, deconstructing that even further, until the truth stood out clear in his mind, Vince’s truth.

They had been here before, a few times, and afterwards he had spent hours upon hours in an uncomfortable plastic or wooden chair in a hospital’s waiting room. ‘You’re not lying’ he sighed, a small twinge of relief in his voice.

‘No, I’m not.’

Their eyes met, unspoken apologies, reassurances, admissions and fears passing between them. Neither needed to hear them to know they existed. Vincent broke the contact first by moving his head towards the hotel. As he was walking the sand stuck to his feet bringing back childhood memories of long summer days. They walked in comfortable silence. Neither was a talker. They had Ingrid for that. When the older woman was not there they made do snuggling in the other’s quietness.

In their room, Takeru went first to shower, leaving Vincent to clean the animals and open the two windows, welcoming the storm. As he came out of his own, brief shower he found his friend sitting on the bed, dressed in oversized gray pajamas, damp hair pulled up in a bun, a jar of soothing muscle reliever in hand. It was almost dark outside, lightning, thunder and wind chasing each other.

‘The gods are having fun?’ Vincent asked, rubbing the water out of his short black hair.

Belief in the Shinto gods had been a part of the Matsuda family for countless generations. Takeru was not as devoted as the rest of his relatives, but he did hold the god of wind, Fujin and the thunder and lightning god Raiden in high regard. Few people outside his family knew about this aspect of his life, labeling his fascination with storms as just another quirk. Another strange thing to look at and gossip about.

‘Or sex’ he shrugged, vaguely amused, breathing in the clean humid air coming through the window.

‘Or both.’ There was a knowing smile on his face, blue eyes glinting. The invitation was missing however. They’d had their own fun, from time to time along the years.

Vincent took the jar reading the label. It was one of those ointments that heated up after application. It felt nice, smelled pleasant and made him sleepy. He took off his sleeping T-shirt, laying on the clean white sheets. Two red wrapping towels were stacked next to the pillow.

Takeru straddled his legs. Vincent was well built, his back muscles beautifully defined. This white scars took over most of the skin, the worst ones on the nape. That area was out of boundaries. The cream was think between his palms, but it was absorbed quickly, Vincent visibly relaxing under his touch. His breathing slower, more stable. He was working in precise sections, coating everything in an even, thin layer. It took quite some time, and he had to bend forward more than once to care for his upper arms as well. By the time he reached his lower back, Vincent had fallen asleep, light snores escaping thin parted lips. Takeru kept working, fingers playing over the skin as if it was they keys of a well-tuned piano.

The towels were soft and thick. Putting them around the sleeping man without waking him up was not easy. Vincent was a light sleeper, but Takeru had a lot of practice. He knew where to press, to guide his body. Vincent feeling comfortable around him helped a lot. The covers were left unused, unneeded. He settled beside him with a manga, not actually paying attention to the black and white panels or the strings of kanji that formed the dialogue. Instead he kept watch over his friend, ready to intervene in case of a nightmare or worse a night terrors.

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#violetvineyard #writing #amwriting #my writing #my ocs #writing community #fantasy #snippet #matsuda takeru #vincent morgan

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faebelina · 7 years

Text

Strength and Will (part 2)

Faeb blinked at the intense light on the other side of the portal. As her eyes adjusted she could see a gorgeous blue sky. A falcon flew past her vision and the scent of pines filled her nose. Faeb had heard stories from the soldiers who fought the Lich King, but had never set foot on Northrend herself. She took a moment to appreciate the beauty of it. There was something calming about the Grizzly Hills, something in the air that cleared her thoughts.

It was colder, too. The wind bit at her cheeks as Mel pointed to a mountain path not far from the portal they exited.

“I have been here only once,” she began. “The last time I visited was under...very different circumstances. I am taking you to Ursoc’s Den.”

Faeb’s mouth parted a little. The den of an Eternal. She didn’t know if she should be flattered or embarrassed that Meldris had gone to such lengths to teach her a lesson. She walked and listened as her teacher continued.

“When the Legion descended upon the world the first time, Ursoc and his brother did not hesitate to defend it. They fought with courage until the very end.”

Faeb noticed her eyes glazed over and wondered if Meldris was lost in thought, remembering their fall.

“They did not question their conviction or their strength. They gave what they had--all that they had. You question yourself, thero’shan. You question why you have your gifts, why you got them so late in life, and why it falls to you to fight alongside your kin when others cannot or do not. You question your ability in combat and your role in this world. You question why I chose the mark of battle that sits upon your face.”

Faeb had always wondered what Mel saw in her vision during her ceremony. What had she seen that had led her to give Faeb markings that she and others felt did not fit her? When she looked in the mirror she did not see the warrior her markings claimed her to be. She saw a lost soul with no direction.

With each step the two elves climbed higher and higher up the path. As they rounded a bend they could see a large form jutting out from the rocks. Drawing closer, Faeb could make out the hewn, stone face of a bear. It was tall and stark against the bright sky. The path would lead them right through its jaws.

A shiver crept down her spine.

When they reached its mouth, a grizzly figure approached them. One of the many denizens that had taken residence in Ursoc’s home.

“Kneel and do not look it in the eyes,” Meldris whispered to her student.

Faeb knelt and listened as the creature approached and huffed upon seeing their gesture. For a long while she sat tense as the animal decided what to do with them. At last it turned its back to them, welcoming it into its home. The two followed it through the belly of the hewn beast until they came to a clearing surrounded by jutting rocks. There were many other bears in the den, but none of them druids. These animals are drawn to the power of this place, Faeb thought.

Meldris guided her past them until they reached the furthest rocks in the clearing. Putting her hand up to the cold stone, she wiped away years of dust and small debris. In the rock was an indention, roughly the same shape as the Claw Stone.

Meldris pulled the stone from her pouch, “This stone will let you witness Ursoc’s final moments. You will not only see them, but you will feel them. You will feel his pain, his anger, his courage. It will not be pleasant.”

Faeb looked from the stone to her teacher. She was terrified. What would it feel like to be inside the mind of a Wild God? To feel their power? She reached her hand out tentatively.

“I will not force you to do this. You can refuse,” Mel reminded her.

Faeb’s hand recoiled. She took in a breath. As she closed her eyes to contemplate her decision her mind wandered to the Grove. To her friends, the dryads, and the faerie dragons. To the forests of Ashenvale where she grew up. She thought of her parents. She saw in her mind the shop where her mother and father sold herbs and flowers, a vision of their peaceful life. All of this, she thought, will be lost if the Legion can’t be stopped.

Meldris had led her this far. She had been assigned to Faeb by the council. Faeb trusted them and she trusted her mentor. She reached out her hand once again.

The stone flickered and hummed as Faeb took it in her grasp, which frightened her more. She buried the feeling and slowly placed the stone into the wall. As it clicked into place Faeb felt her mind being ripped from her body. The pain made her wince. She tried to struggle free of it but her consciousness felt as if it were falling down a long shaft with nothing to hold on to. She could only endure it now.

Her head throbbed as she opened her eyes. She did not recognize her hands. Looking down she gasped as her slender fingers were replaced by large paws, sharp claws piercing the earth. Her arms were strong like ancient trees, her fangs felt heavy and foreign in her mouth. Her body began to move. She whimpered but no sound came from her jaws.

They were not her jaws. They were his.

She was simply a spirit in his body, a passenger in his memory. His nose sniffed the air. The air was filled with stinging fel smoke but he could still pick up the scent of an enemy. Ursoc turned to his brother, trailing behind him.

“They are here, Ursol. I sense them.”

Ursol raised his head to the wind and took in the scent. His nostrils flared as he assessed his surroundings. “There are many, brother.”

She remembered the stories of Ursoc. How inseparable he and Ursol were. How they fought side by side always. She could feel this, in his bones, in his posture, in his gaze. He was determined to let nothing happen to his brother.

Faeb could barely make out the trees of the forest through his eyes. There was so much fel taint in the air. The two great bears stood back to back as demons emerged from the mist. She felt Ursoc’s hairs bristle as a two doomguards approached them from either side. There was no hesitation as he lunged forward. The abrupt motion made Faeb’s feel sick.

His titansteel claws clashed with one of the doomguard’s iron fists. They wrestled with one another until the demon broke free. It snarled and laughed at the two Wild Gods. Ursol was locked in combat with the second enemy but Ursoc’s attention was drawn to the demon in front of him, channeling a shadowy spell at his brother.

As the curse left its fingers Ursoc moved between the spell and his Ursol, taking the burning, dark flame in his side. It hurt, and Faeb could feel her side burning, too. His fur was singed...the wound had been cauterized instantly. It did not deter him, though. Instead, he reared up on his hind legs and sent a strong arm sailing through the air. His sharp claws buried themselves in the demon’s chest. It howled in pain as Ursoc hurtled it against a tree. Its lifeless body thudded to the ground.

The second demon was stronger. It would take both of the Eternals to end it. Like a fierce dance the two bears weaved around the demon, slashing and mauling the creature. In a fit of rage the doomguard summoned a cloud of darkness, enveloping the clearing where they fought.

The darkness was thick like water. Faeb could feel his muscles struggling against it. He thrashed wildly and bit the air trying to find the demon. He could not sense it, nor could he sense his brother. Fear did not overtake him. He knew his brother was there, he knew that he would find the demon in the black.

Just then a ball of flame hurtled from above. Then another, and another. A fel fire storm rained upon him, cutting through the darkness. Ursoc dodged and spun to avoid the flames, but they overwhelmed him. One struck his back like the force of a thousand blows. He reeled in pain. Faeb screamed.

It only served to make him angry. He roared into the fiery abyss and swung a vicious paw. It connected with the demon's wing. He had found it!

Pulling it to the ground, he pinned it with his massive weight. The demon writhed and spat as Ursoc turned the creature over, ripping a wing from its back. He roared again as he ripped the second wing from it. Done with his prey, he smashed its skull into the dirt.

The darkness dissipated.

Ursoc sniffed the air again. He turned in every direction. Where is Ursol? Faeb could hear his thoughts. She could feel the pain in his heart as he searched for his brother’s scent. She could feel the determination fill his lungs as he ran into the woods to find him.

Tree after tree passed as Ursoc bounded through the burning forest. The wounds he had were great and with each passing moment they sapped his strength. Still he searched for Ursol. He noticed a dark figure running alongside him. Then a second. There are more, he sensed.

Felstalkers were closing in on him, like a pack of wolves taking down a larger beast. As he ran he swiped at one, sending it flying through the flames. Another jumped on his back, biting his wound. He rolled and crushed it beneath him. Realizing they would only continue to follow him, he turned to face them. Faeb could hardly take more. It hurt too much, but she knew how his tale ended. It was almost over.

Ursoc planted his feet in the earth. As strong and intimidating as a mountain. He pushed with his legs, barreling through the pack. He bashed his skull against their bodies. For every demon he struck down, two more appeared from between the trees. Faeb felt it in that moment. The very moment he knew he would not survive. And in that moment she felt him swell with courage. Courage and anger. There was not an ounce of fear in his body. He would take as many demons down as he could. He would give everything for Azeroth. Wherever Ursol was, his heart was with him. He knew his brother would not fall without a fight.

It was then he reared up to the sky. His roar shook the trees. As the demons closed in he lashed out with his jaws, biting one in half. Faeb could feel its burning blood in her mouth as Ursoc did. Two more latched on to the fur of his neck. He shook his head but still they held. Three more climbed on to his back. He thrashed wildly but more and more came.

Faeb felt them tearing at him as his muscles became weary. His body slumped to the ground. Stop! Stop! Stop! Faeb soundlessly screamed at the demons. It hurts, stop!

His eyes began to close as the demons finished him. The vision became cracked and blurry as her consciousness lifted from his body. Up that ethereal tunnel it climbed until Faeb felt herself in her own skin.

She was cradled in her teacher’s arms. Meldris stroked her hair and waited for Faeb to fully return.

“They were...he was…the demons, they…” She tried to say.

Meldris calmed her. She held her tightly as Faeb sobbed.

Reality flooded back after several moments. Faeb looked around at the den of the great warrior. Her mind began to let go of the horrors it had just witnessed. That was not her, she had felt it, but it was not her. Meldris helped her to her feet.

“I did not want to do this...unless it was necessary to help you,” she began.

Faeb grasped Mel’s forearm as she stood upright. Her heartbeat had finally calmed itself. “No it’s....I think... I think I understand now, Shan’do.”

They said nothing more to one another as they descended the path back to the portal. Faeb looked at that beautiful sky once again but this time it seemed different. The world looked different.

Beautiful. Terrible. But above all, worth protecting.

She wanted to be back in the Grove and soon she would be. I’m going to down a very large glass of moonberry juice and sleep forever, she thought. She needed some time to think about all that she had seen.

As the portal came into view, a young night elf emerged from it. Terror was written on his face.

“Meldris!” He called. “Meldris, you are needed!”

Faeb and her teacher ran toward him. Meldris took his hands, looking him over. “What is wrong, young one?”

He panted, “Val’sharah! The Grove!...the Legion! We are under attack!”

#faeb #meldris #Strength and Will #faebstories #night elf #kaldorei #Legion #druid #WoW #worldofwarcraft

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deitiesofduat · 6 years

Note

I was wondering if u can do a bunch of random facts/headcannons for the main cast?

Oh man, I mean, I’m happy to try, but I’m not sure where to start for the entire cast of 10… well, now 11 gods. I know have some that are scattered around the blog’s tags, and also in places other than tumblr, but It’ll take me a bit to find them or think of new ones without revealing spoilers, hmm…

So here’s what I’ll try that’s similar to the 1 Like 1 Fact meme I did on twitter a while ago: for every note this post receives, I’ll add a DEITIES-related headcanon or fact about the main cast. The main cast includes Set, Horus, Anubis, Osiris, Isis, Nephthys, Bastet, Sekhmet, Thoth, Ra, and nowwwww Sobek – and maybe the Set Spawn and the big bad serpent too, if relevant. You can add a note by +liking this post, and if you’re interested in learning about a particular deity, you can mention their name in a comment (and it’s not necessary to reblog this, unless you want to!).

This should help give me a bit more focus and time to think of some decent non-spoiler headcanons/facts to share. I’ll come back to this post in a few hours and add any many as I can, depending on the amount of notes it receives, and I’ll bump and place them under the cut for easy access. So yeah, go for it /o/!!

[1] Been playing with a headcanon where Horus’s Eye can see an object’s or person’s weak spots – though only for like, a moment once it’s activated, cuz I’ve wanted to avoid him being OP (but then again… he’s a literal god… so >>)

Also a related-headcanon where he can see a person’s past injuries thru his Eye too, including the hidden ones that have long-ago healed and left no visible scar. I’d like to draw the ones he “sees” on others one day if I keep it…

[2] Set is the only one of his siblings that doesn’t have an avian sacred animal, and for a while I wanted to keep it that way and literally keep him “grounded” compared to his family (sans Anubis). But I found that he’s sometimes also associated with crows (and falcons??? interestingly enough), and even though I haven’t found solid evidence of this yet, I also like the idea of him being associated with bats even before I read about it in Kane Chronicles I swear– So those 2-3 animals are probably some alternate animal form that he has but just rarely takes.

[3] Actually while I’m at it– aside from the Sha Animal, here’s a list of 30-ish animals that I keep as Set’s canon forms in DEITIES verse (based on a combination of historical speculation, recorded myths, and personal headcanons), and would love to eventually draw him as one day:

Aardvark, African Wild Ass (and Donkey), Giant Anteater, Baboon, Bat, Boar/Pig, Bull, Camel, Crocodile, Crow/Raven, Dog (some sort of sighthound?), Fennec Fox, Fish (Eel?), Gazelle/Antelope, Giraffe, Goat, Goose, Hare/Rabbit, Hippopotamus, [Spotted] Hyena, Jackal, Jerboa, Okapi, Oryx, Panther, Rat, Scorpion, Shark, Snake (Viper), and Zebra/Quagga.

[4] RELATEDLY… I REALLY REALLY like the idea of Set somehow acquiring a Thylacine form even tho it’s in no realistic way in the current timeline because thylacines weren’t native to Africa let alone Egypt. BUT… I JUST… THEY REMIND ME OF SHA ANIMALS SO MUCH o)——–

[5] When I was considering the color schemes for the main cast, I once briefly envisioned a purple/violet scheme for Nephthys, but decided to scrap it because (1) I wanted her colors to contrast with her sister’s and match a bit more with her husband’s and son’s and (2) I found that purple was nigh impossible to find in AE wall art and admittedly worried “maybe it won’t look authentic if I use those colors;;;”

Even though I’m happy with her orange/black/red scheme now, I’ve recently found that purple is a common association / kemetic UPG (or doxa?) with her?? SO THAT WAS INTERESTING… I don’t think I’ll change her color scheme for DEITIES, but maybe I’ll draw her in an alternate purple outfit one day to see how it looks on her >>

[6] One of the reasons why I like Horus, Anubis, and Bastet as their own casual friend group in DEITIES verse is that, because they’re all relatively young gods, they all share the experience/pressure of being measured up against their older royal relatives – Horus being seen as both his father and mother’s legacy and feeling the pressure to restore his family’s throne; Anubis being know for his infamous father, and even having his paternity questioned (via rumors and “myths”); and Bastet being the youngest of Ra’s daughter, sometimes being compared to her sister’s roles and achievements.

They’re all really good at masking any pressure they feel, but they also probably confide in each other about it more than with others, cuz they’ve all “been there.”

[7] Relatedly, one of the earliest version of DEITIES Project, before it was known as “Deities Project,” had Horus, Anubis, and Bastet as the main trio. That’s been changed “for reasons” since then, and their characters were quite different back then, but it might be fun to explore a story that focused on the 3 of them someday.

[8] Okay ya’ll know the part during The Contendings where Horus and Set are racing in stone boats and Horus “wins” by painting his wooden boat to look like stone? I have ideas for how that entire race happens in DEITIES verse that would be fun to explore as a side story, but in order for me to give Horus a “legit” way to win without outright cheating, he covers his boat with stone casing/accents, and after he wins and is confronted about it… well…

HORUS: “The rules we agreed on were to sail a boat made with stone. They said nothing about it needing to be made entirely out of stone.”SET: “…”HORUS: “ :)c ”SET: “…” *Internally raging*

[9] I’ve headcanon’d that Nephthys has her own set of ~7 Shabti who act as her personal assistants while she’s conducting her nightly duties, or working around her home, but I haven’t decided much more past that (still debating on how she acquired them, and if she more-than-likely named them…).

The concept and number were loosely based on how many of the other goddesses had their own sets of 7 as extensions of their power and/or control (7 Ribbons of Hathor, 7 Arrows of Sekhmet, Isis’s 7 Scorpions), and I thought it’d be neat if the Goddess of Service had her own Shabti that exemplified that part of her domain.

[10] Thoth is an avid lover of puzzles, trivia, and strategy games, and he’s also exceptionally skilled at games of chance. He doesn’t gamble or make bets often because he understands the risks, but when he does he tries to be calculative about it… and also has a natural knack for luck going his way (EX: That one game of senet that he won to help assist Nut with having her children… which is another story for another day)

[11] Ummmmm Isis is the only one of the main cast who I haven’t drawn a ref of her sacred animal form yet… or at least, not digitally. Her animal is the kite, but I’ve been debating on a while for what species to base her design on. I like the idea of her kite form looking like the Black-winged Kite, although those species aren’t native to Egypt… but some are native to Africa… and they’re so fricken pretty and they fit her colors so well so I might cave on this ffffffffffff–

[12] While we’re on the subject of sacred animals (and to help me get somewhat closer to the note count lmao I’m trying guys–), Horus’s falcon form is based on both the Peregrine falcon and the Lanner falcon, with more simplified markings for my own sanity when I draw him in dozens of panels.

At one point, I considered making his falcon form leucistic to contrast more with Anubis and Set, buuuuuut I also liked the brown colors on the falcons’ normal coloration, so I kept it. (That and more leucistic birds of prey are hawks, so… maybe for Khonsu tho if I don’t change him to an owl, hmmmm…)

[13] Okay continuing thoughts on animal forms, Bastet is able to shift her cat form into nearly any coloration or breed she desires (aside from her eyes, which remain green), but for the purposes of DEITIES I draw her as a brown cat with light gradation markings. I knew of the Egyptian Mau but also realized the spots would take a lot of effort to redraw in the panels where she appears as a cat (much like the spots on falcons for Horus). I also personally really like solid-colored coats on cats, and in particular I liked the coloration of the Havana Brown, so it may be a little less authentic but it did factor into her colors as well.

[14] I'm still debating on Sekhmet's main hairstyle and want to play with it a bit more -- not the arrangement per se but whether to keep it as locks or to make them more obvious twists -- or perhaps a combination -- since I can see her with both style at certain points in time. Either way, at full length Sekhmet's hair is very long: if she were to loosen her tie and let it fall, her longest locks would reach past her hips.

[15] I initially gave Set yellow eyes because even though he's often depicted with red eyes, I didn't want to over saturate his design with just... well, red -- especially in his animal form where his entire body is covered in red fur (red eyes + red sclera would have been, a lot). I like how his yellow eyes provide some contrast, and I've since found some story-related reasons where his eyes might play some role in the plot… but anything further might be spoilery 8')c

[16] It took me a while to settle on Osiris's "resurrected" skin tone because there were a lot of sources that describe his skin as being green, or blue, or black in coloration. I even tried them out in an earlier color test that I shared on patreon, but I eventually went with black since the color has had various meanings in Ancient Egypt that include both life and death. (It also gave me some opportunity to give green skin to Ptah and blue skin to Hapi to help vary the designs for each of those gods).

[17] Relatedly, Osiris's mortal form is a naturally dark skin tone, but following this death he can no longer appear in that form. He is also unable to travel to the overworld / realm of the living, though I'm still debating on how restrictive this is (if it's limited to his physical body or if he can split his soul under special circumstances, or with assistance). Regardless, most of his correspondence with other deities have to be arranged within Duat for this reason.

[18] I haven't made any plans to designate a spouse or romantic partner for Ra. I understand that there were a number of goddesses that were associated with him in the myths and often said to be his wife, but for that reason it was hard to settle on choosing one -- or multiple, and I realized that for the purpose of the main story it might not be necessary. I also kinda like exploring the idea of this high king and powerful creator deity who's also a happily single father, and where it's not for tragic reasons like the separation from or death of his spouse (not to knock that trope at all tho sdjfdsf). I'm not opposed to him being shipped with anyone though, I just don't think I've been inclined to do it myself lmAO;;

[19] RELATEDLY, while Ra's daughters (Sekhmet, Mafdet, Hathor, Serqet, Bastet) don't have a biological mother, I like to think that they were raised in an environment with a lot of parental figures and mentors to go around, aside from just their father. I haven't quite settled on how it was organized though, but I know that the daughters regard Thoth as something of an uncle/secondary dad (tho their dynamic with Thoth is can vary a lot from the one the have with Ra), as well as their teacher and mentor. I can also see where other gods like Khnum, Khepri, and Bes, and goddesses like Neith, Seshat, Taweret, Ma'at, and Mut, might also have played some direct mentor role in the daughters' upbringing and sense of self.

[20] (squick + implied nsfw) I uh… have this minor gag headcanon where Horus, Isis, and Osiris just don't eat fish. They just… don't. And it's entirely based on that one part of the myths after Osiris's death, where a certain part of Osiris's desecrated body ended up in the river and was swallowed by a fish 8')c (should be noted that I'm not saying that event did happened in DEITIES canon, but I'm also not disputing it either >>).

Apparently that was considered a bad omen, and I still find conflicting information on whether consumption of fish was taboo for some or all in Ancient Egypt (I think "for some" makes better sense, cuz why would an entire society that resides near the Nile river pass up on a perfectly available food source?? But I digress, I might need to review this again so take my thoughts with a grain of salt--). I also admit that I've seen it mentioned that fish are not ideal food offerings for Isis and Osiris?? and I can imagine that maybe Horus adopts the distaste for them as well. Either way, I go with the DEITIES canon that while most people and deities happily consume fish, Horus and his parents will not, and they don't enjoy it as offerings either.

I’MMMMMM gonna end it here for now cuz my headcanons have run dry for the time being, thank you guys!!

#// I'M SRSLY JUST blanking on new facts right now o)-----< but I wanna give this a try later after I make dinner in a bit #// I will… also see if I can make a tag for the headcanon-type replies since it seems that people are interested in them!#DEITIES asks #general asks #meme #Horus #Set #Anubis #Bastet #Nephthys #Ra #Thoth #Isis #Osiris #Sekhmet #headcanons

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superbcollectorsheep · 3 years

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Beauty & Style

Earrings, ornaments decorating the ears, have been one of the principal forms of jewelry throughout recorded history. The term usually refers to ornaments worn attached to the earlobes, though in the late twentieth century it expanded somewhat to include ornaments worn on other parts of the ear, such as ear cuffs, and is used to describe pieces of jewelry in earring form, even when they are worn through piercings in other parts of the body (for example, in the nose). The most common means of fashion earrings to the earlobes has been to pierce holes in the lobes, through which a loop or post may be passed. But a variety of other devices have also been used, including spring clips, tensioning devices such as screw backs, and, for particularly heavy earrings, loops passing over the top of the ear or attaching to the hair or headdress.

In many cultures and contexts, earrings have traditionally been worn as symbols of cultural or tribal identity, as markers of age, marital status, or rank, or because they are believed to have protective or medicinal powers. Even when they have served other purposes, however, the primary function of earrings has been a decorative one. As earrings are so prominently placed near the face, and at the juncture between costume and coiffure, they, perhaps more than any other element of jewelry, have been particularly responsive to changes in fashion; as hairstyles, hats, collars, and necklines have risen and fallen, earrings have correspondingly increased and decreased in size and prominence, and during many periods they have been instrumental in balancing and tying together the desired fashionable appearance.

In antiquity, earrings were one of the most popular forms of jewelry. The crescent-shaped gold hoops worn by Sumerian women around 2500 B.C.E. are the earliest earrings for which there is archaeological evidence. By 1000 B.C.E., tapered hoop (also known as boat-shaped) earrings, most commonly of gold but also of silver and bronze, had spread throughout the Aegean world and Western Asia. In Crete and Cyprus, earrings were embellished with twisted gold wire, clusters of beads, and pendants stamped out of thin sheet gold.

In Egypt, earrings were introduced about 1500 B.C.E. and were later worn by both men and women. Many Egyptian earrings took the form of thick, mushroom-shaped studs or plugs, which required an enlarged hole to be stretched in the earlobe; these could be of gold, with a decorated front surface, or of humbler materials such as colored glass or carved jasper. Ear studs consisting of two capped tubes that screwed together could be worn alone, but some also had elaborate pendants of gold cornflowers, or falcons with flexible tail feathers inlaid with glass.

In the first millennium B.C.E., Etruscan and Greek goldsmiths brought new refinement and artistry to earrings, which were valued as both an adornment and a sign of wealth. Variations on the hoop were the so-called leech earring, a thick tube secured by a hidden wire, and the Etruscan box-type earring, which encased the earlobe in a wide horizontal cylinder. Disk earrings, with pendants in the form of amphorae (ancient Greek jars), figures of Eros, and decorative beads and chains, were another popular form, joined about 330 B.C.E. by twisted gold hoops with animal-head finials. All of these forms were stamped out of thin sheets of gold and decorated with fine palmettes, scrolls, and flowers in twisted wire and granulation; such earrings were fairly light in weight, but gave an extremely rich effect.

Roman earrings were similar to Etruscan styles until the first century C.E., when new styles with disks and pendants mounted on s-shaped ear hooks appeared. Colored stones and pearls were favored, and earring styles proliferated to satisfy the Roman taste for ostentatious display. At its height, the Roman Empire had the effect of standardizing styles of jewelry over much of the known world; after the center of influence shifted to Byzantium (Constantinople) in C.E. 330, and Roman influence began to decline, local variations once more emerged. Characteristic Byzantine earrings were plain gold hoops with multiple pearl pendants hung on chains, and crescent-shaped 925 silver open hoop earrings.

In Europe, earrings virtually disappeared between the eleventh and sixteenth centuries, as hairstyles and headdresses that completely covered the ears, and later high ruff collars, made them impractical. Earrings finally began to revive in the late sixteenth century, as ruffs gave way to standing collars. At first, complex enameled designs were popular, but improved techniques of gem cutting soon shifted the emphasis to faceted diamonds. In the seventeenth century, large, pear-shaped pearl pendants were a favorite earring style, and those who could afford to do so wore two in each ear. It was also fashionable to wear pendant earrings on strings or ribbons threaded through the earlobes and tied in bows, and to tie ribbon bows at the tops of earrings to achieve the same effect. Similar earring styles were also worn by fashionable gentlemen, but usually in one ear only.

By the late seventeenth century, earrings had become an essential element of dress, and larger and more elaborate forms began to develop. Two of these became the dominant styles of the eighteenth century: the girandole, in which a single top cluster branches out like a chandelier to support three pear-shaped drops, and the pendeloque, a top cluster with a long single pendant. New sources of diamonds, along with new methods of cutting them, developed early in the eighteenth century, made them the material of choice for jewelry, and high-quality paste imitations were also available. Glittering girandoles and pendeloques, visually tied to the ears by stylized ribbon bows of diamonds set in silver, effectively balanced the high, powdered hairstyles of the period. Despite their refined and delicate appearance, such large earrings were quite heavy; some had additional rings soldered to the tops, permitting the wearer to take some of the weight off of her ears by tying the earrings to her hair.

When the neoclassical style of dress and simpler hairstyles came into fashion at the end of the eighteenth century, earrings became lighter and simpler. Jewelry of cut steel, seed pearls, Berlin iron, and strongly colored materials such as coral and jet, harmonized well with neoclassical fashions, and classically inspired cameos and intaglios were set in all kinds of jewelry. Heavy girandoles gave way to pendant earrings composed of flat, geometric elements connected by light chains. "Top-and-drop" earrings, composed of a small top element attached to the ear wire, from which a larger, often teardrop-shaped element is suspended, also came to the fore around 1800, and remained the most popular earring style throughout the nineteenth century. Matched sets of jewelry, known as parures, assumed new importance in the nineteenth century, and they were available even to women of modest means. These sets usually included at least a matching necklace or brooch and earrings, but could also include bracelets, buckles, and a tiara or tiara-comb.

In the 1810s and 1820s, the trend toward lighter and more delicate jewelry continued, and settings of gold filigree or elaborate wirework (known as cannetille) were very popular. In the 1820s, a romantic interest in the past also inspired jewelry designers to revive historical styles from the ancient world to the eighteenth century, and a modified version of the girandole earring returned, along with elaborate gothic tracery and rococo-revival scroll-work. As hairstyles became more elaborate in the 1830s, earrings became more prominent, with small tops and long drops reaching nearly to the shoulders. In spite of their size, these s925 silver earrings were fairly light in weight, owing to lightweight settings of gold cannetille or of repoussé (embossed relief raised from behind with a hammer), which had largely replaced cannetille by the 1840s. Earrings with long, torpedo-shaped drops of carved gemstones with applied gold filigree were also popular, many with detachable drops to allow the tops to be worn alone.

In the late 1840s and through the 1850s, a new hair-style, with hair parted in the middle and gathered to the back of the head in loops that covered the ears, caused a virtual disappearance of earrings. Around 1860, once again owing to a return to upswept hairstyles, long pendant earrings made a comeback, and through the 1860s and 1870s they were produced in an astonishing variety of styles. One major theme was historical revival, with Egyptian and Classical styles particularly popular. Some revival earrings, such as those produced by the Castellani family in Rome, were fairly faithful reproductions of recent archaeological discoveries; others were fanciful pastiches of classical earring forms, architectural elements, and other motifs such as amphorae. Earrings with carved classical reliefs of coral or lava, or Roman glass micro-mosaics, were very fashionable, and were often brought back as souvenirs by travelers to Italy. Other popular styles were naturalistic renditions of leaves, flowers, insects, and birds' nests in gold, enamel, and semiprecious stones; enameled renaissance-revival styles; and, for more precious gems, floral sprays and cascades. A new style in the 1870s was the fringe or tassel earring, with a graduated fringe of pointed drops suspended from a large oval pendant.

In the last two decades of the nineteenth century, large pendant earrings went out of fashion, in part because they were incompatible with the newly fashionable high dress and blouse collars, and with the elaborate "dog collar" necklaces worn for evening, which almost completely covered the neck. Small single-stone and 925 sterling silver cuba earrings, either firmly mounted to the ear wire or mounted as pendants to move and catch the light, were the most commonly worn style through the early twentieth century. The most fashionable earrings of all were diamond solitaires, which became more available after the opening of the South African diamond fields in the late 1860s. New cutting machines and open-claw settings, both of which increased the amount of light reflected by diamonds and made solitaire earrings more appealing, were developed in the 1870s. To prevent valuable diamond earrings from being lost, catches were added to secure the bottoms of the ear wires. Another innovation, first patented in 1878, was the earring cover, a small hinged sphere of gold, sometimes finished in black enamel, which could be snapped over a diamond earring to protect it from loss or theft. By the end of the century diamond ear studs (also called screws), with a threaded post passing through the ear, and held securely in back by a nut screwed onto the post, were also popular.

By 1900, as earrings declined in size and importance, many women stopped wearing them altogether. Some commentators denounced ear-piercing as barbaric, and women who pierced their ears were considered "fast," or not quite respectable. (In the United States, some of the reaction against pierced ears may be credited to the desire of "native" Americans to distinguish themselves from the large numbers of immigrant women, almost all with pierced ears, who were arriving from Europe at the time.) In spite of piercing's negative image, small screw earrings continued to be worn, and new screw-back fittings, which could be tightened onto unpierced earlobes, were available for those who did not wish to pierce their ears. Around 1908, pendant earrings were revived, but with light, articulated drops of smaller stones rather than single-stone drops; diamonds, pearls, and stones matching the color of the costume were the most popular materials.

The earring revival continued into the 1910s, aided considerably by a growing acceptance of costume jewelry. Jewelry could now be selected for its decorative value rather than its intrinsic value, and women could afford to own many pairs of earrings to match particular costumes; the rise of costume jewelry also made ear piercing less necessary, as women were less concerned about losing inexpensive earrings. (Many women, as was still true in the early 2000s, also had adverse reactions to the cheaper metals used in costume jewelry, which made pierced earrings seem less practical.) The fashion for the Oriental and exotic inspired by Paul Poiret and the Ballets Russes was reflected in bead necklaces and long drop earrings of Chinese amber, jade, black and red jet (glass), and carved tortoiseshell. Empire-revival fashions also inspired a revival of nineteenth-century jewelry styles and materials, including cut steel and cameos.

By the early 1920s, earrings were again almost universally worn, and the range of exotic styles had expanded to include hoop and pendant earrings of Spanish or Gypsy inspiration, Egyptian styles inspired by the discovery of King Tutankhamen's tomb in 1922, nineteenth-century antiques, and picturesque "peasant" styles from around the world. As reported by the New York Times in 1922, in the 1920s earrings could "no longer … be considered as an article of jewelry; they are the article of jewelry." With dress styles now comparatively simple, and many women bobbing their hair, earrings were considered an essential finishing touch-a means both of filling in the area between the ear and shoulder and of expressing the wearer's personality. Bold geometric pendant 925 stud earrings, made of diamonds and platinum contrasted with strongly colored materials such as onyx and lapis lazuli, were displayed at the Exposition International des Arts Décoratifs in 1925, and this style, which became known as Art Deco, remained popular for both precious and costume earrings for the remainder of the decade.

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yozaka · 7 years

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I Need your Help!

I’m planning to make or animate the history of Ninjago up until this coming season but IN SONG FORM! this is going to be a great project but i need your help with lyrics I will provide the ninjago timeline you guys have to put all of that into singable lyrics AND IT HAS TO RYME! the deadline is 12/29/2017 whoever has the best lyrics I will use in my project and you will get a speacial mention!

You don’t have to include everything some things you can leave out if its negligible

The First Master of Spinjitzu forges the Golden Weapons in the Temple of Light with gold from the Golden Peaks.[1]

With the weapons, he creates Ninjago.

The First Spinjitzu Master's counterpart, evil (the Overlord), manifested itself in the shadows, and declares war to decide the fate of Ninjago.

The Stone Wars: The Overlord creates the Stone Army to combat the First Spinjitzu Master, as well as the Temple of Fortitude to fortify against the Golden Power. To combat the Overlord, the First Spinjitzu Master uses the power of the Golden Dragon and Golden Mech to fight him off.

The First Spinjitzu Master splits Ninjago in two parts (Ninjago and the Dark Island), with the Overlord banished to the Dark Island and the Stone Army entombed underneath Ninjago City, leaving the ultimate battle between good and evil yet to be finished.

The First Spinjitzu Master creates the Realm Crystal.

The Serpentine come into existence, along with the humans who colonize the land, building cities, villages, and other places. The first Elemental Masters are created as well.

Samurai Warriors are hired to protect the land of Ninjago.

The Sons of the First Spinjitzu Master

(Centuries Ago)

Garmadon is born as the first son of the First Spinjitzu Master. He is given the element of Destructionby his father.[2]

Wu is born as the second son. He is given the element of Creation by his father, in order for his children to represent balance.[3]

Garmadon and Wu spar one day, but Wu loses one of the katanas over the wall of their monastery. Afraid of their father's disapproval, Wu chooses not to go after it, but Garmadon does. In the process, he is bitten by the young Great Devourer, and becomes ill as its evil venom starts to affect him.

Wu and Garmadon learn Spinjitzu from their father.

The First Master of Spinjitzu dies[4], but first leaves a hidden message for Wu that will lead him to his final resting place where the Realm Crystal is hidden. Additionally, the siblings also gain kimonos with protection spells against evil.

Wu and Garmadon fight and defeat Samukai.

200 Years before the events of the Pilot:

Stone Warrior statues are uncovered, marking the era of the Stone Warrior. [5]

Captain Soto and Nadakhan's crews would clash in a battle between their ships, the Destiny's Bounty and Misfortune's Keep, with Soto proving victorious. Soto traps Nadakhan within the Teapot of Tyrahn and scatters the Sky Pirates across the Sixteen Realms, before going on to look for the whereabouts of the Island of Darkness.[6]

In his search for the Island of Darkness, Soto's crew accidentally crashes into the coast of Ninjago, causing their ship to sink and killing them.

The First Serpentine War

(Decades Ago)

40 years before the events of Hands of Time:

Morro dies in the Caves of Despair and his soul is banished to the Cursed Realm.

Dr. Julien builds Zane, the first Nindroid, and builds the Falcon as a companion.[7]

Garmadon trains under Master Chen alongside Clouse, and later, Garmadon gains the title Lord (as Chen's right hand). Meanwhile, Wu finds Morro, and trains him.

Morro fails to become the Green Ninja and attempts to find the tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master.

As conflicts between the Serpentine and humans arise as a result of paranoia over the Curse of the Golden Master, Chen takes advantage and tricks both sides into attacking each other.

The Serpentine War begins, and Garmadon defects from Chen. Garmadon, Wu and the Elemental Masters fight the Serpentine, who in turn eventually split up. The five tribes begin fighting among each other. Garmadon develops the Sacred Flute, allowing the humans to win the war. The Serpentine are locked away in their tombs, the Anacondrai generals are banished to the Cursed Realm, and Chen and Clouse are banished to an Island far from Ninjago due to their involvement with the Serpentine.

The Hands of Time, Acronix and Krux, betray Wu and Garmadon and try to take over Ninjago with their Elemental Time Powers.

Ray and Maya forge the Time Blades; Wu and Garmadon use them to battle the Time Twins and steal their power. Wu and Garmadon dispose of the Time Blades through a temporal rift as Acronix and Krux follow them and became lost in time.

At some point, Krux emerges from the Temporal Rift along with the Reversal Time Blade and begins plotting his revenge on Ray and Maya for creating the Time Blades, and Wu and Garmadon for stripping him and his brother off their powers and causing them to be lost in Time.

Ray and Maya find the Reversal Time Blade and Wu has them dispose of it in the Boiling Sea.

At some point after the war, Garmadon marries Misako.

The Birth of the Ninja

(Nearly Two Decades Ago)

Possibly 16 years before the events of the Pilot[8]:

Jay is left at the doorstep of Ed and Edna, and the couple adopt him as their own.

Possibly 14-15 years before the events of the Pilot[9]:

Kai is born to elemental masters of Fire and Water respectively, Ray and Maya.

Jay is born to Cliff Gordon and the Elemental Master of Lightning.

Cole is born to Lou and an unknown mother.

Nya is born as the second child of Ray and Maya.[10]

Battle Between Brothers

(Several Years Ago)

Around a decade before the events of Rise of the Snakes:

5 years before the events of Rise of the Snakes:

Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon is born to Garmadon and Misako.[11]

The evil in Garmadon completely takes over him, and it mainly manifests itself in the form of overwhelming greed. He returns to the Monastery of Spinjitzu to steal the Golden Weapons in an attempt to recreate Ninjago in his own image. Wu confronts him, and after a short battle, the combination of the four weapons and the protection spell on their kimonos opens a gateway to the Underworld, where Garmadon is struck down to. As he fully succumbs to the evil in his veins, Garmadon battles Samukai (leader of the Skulkin) for command over the Skulkin army, and easily wins (becoming the ruler of the Underworld). Wu realizes that Garmadon will stop at nothing to get the Golden Weapons, so he hides them away in secret locations, each guarded by a dragon. Wu then makes a map of the four secret locations, and gave the map to a trustworthy friend to keep.

Kai and Nya's parents, Ray and Maya, are taken by Krux for his plan.

In his final moments, Dr. Julien erases Zane's memories. Zane becomes an orphan, but Dr. Julien is soon revived by Samukai to construct vehicles for them (being reunited with his son as ransom). When he disagrees, the Skulkin take him to a Lighthouse Prison guarded by a Leviathan, to force him to design their vehicles. After he successfully complies with their demands, the Skulkin do not release him from the prison, and leave him there.

Misako drops off a young Lloyd at Darkley's Boarding School (in a precognitive precaution), so she can go find a way to prevent the father and son from facing each other.

Masters of Spinjitzu

(Pilot)

Master Wu finds Cole climbing a mountain, Jay testing an invention, and Zane meditating under a frozen lake.

The three train together for a short time as a team of ninja.

Kai and Nya work in the Four Weapons Blacksmith when Master Wu comes in search for a ninja to train: Kai. However, the hard working blacksmith declines Wu's offer. Soon after, Samukai and his army (ordered by Lord Garmadon) attack the blacksmith in search the Map of the Golden Weapons, and in the process manages to get both the map and kidnap Nya. Encouraged by compassion for his sister, Kai agrees to train in the art of Spinjitzu under Wu's teaching to become a ninja.

Kai begins training as the Fire Ninja, and in the same instance meets his new teammates: Cole (the Earth Ninja), Jay (the Lightning Ninja), and Zane (the Ice Ninja).

The Ninja team begin their hunt for the Golden Weapons.

Kai goes to the Fire Temple and finds his sister and the Sword of Fire. While retrieving both, it is revealed to be a trap set by Lord Garmadon. Master Wu then rescues Kai and Nya, but discover theother ninja have been ambushed by the Skeletons, with the weapons stolen. Master Wu then takes the Sword to go to the Underworld to confront his brother.

The Ninja tame their respective Dragons and head to the Underworld.

Samukai and Master Wu fight for the Sword of Fire, but Samukai wields the three other Golden Weapons and wins. Samukai then betrays Garmadon, attempting to take the Golden Weapons for himself, but their combined power causes him to implode, opening a portal to the Dark Realm. Garmadon escapes through the portal, aspiring to gain a way to possess all four weapons, leaving Ninjago in peace.

They find the Scythe of Quakes.

They find the Shurikens of Ice.

They find the Nunchucks of Lightning.

Rise of the Snakes

(Season 1)

Lloyd gets kicked out of Darkley's Boarding School after spending his whole life there and makes his journey to Jamanakai Village, in an effort to become like his father. He terrorizes the village, but is soon suppressed by the Ninja.

Seeking revenge on the Ninja for humiliating him, Lloyd releases the Hypnobrai from their tomb. Lloyd tricks the Hypnobrai General, Slithraa, into hypnotizing himself and gains leverage over the tribe.

Lloyd returns to Jamanakai Village with the entire Hypnobrai tribe. The tribe uses hypnotism to take control over the citizens. The Ninja arrive to stop him and defeat the Hypnobrai, freeing the people and taking the tribe's staff. However, Skales (the Hypnobrai second-in-command) manages to post-hypnotize Cole.

Zane finds a Falcon after another evening of feeling left out from the Ninjas' antics, and he follows the Falcon to a Treehouse being constructed by Lloyd and the Serpentine. He informs the Ninja of his discovery, and they begin their mission to destroy it. Just before they finish the destruction, Skales uses the previous post-hypnotic command on Cole to attack the Ninja. As the Ninja struggle to fight Cole, Master Wu and Nya arrive on Kai's dragon, using a flute (later to be described as one of the flutes of the First Spinjitzu Master used to banish the Serpentine in tombs) to snap Cole out of his trance. The group hurry back to the unguarded Monastery, only to find that the Hypnobrai had burned it down in search for their staff. Cole, Jay, and Kai blame Zane for the loss of their home, and in the ruckus, no one notices Zane flying off on his dragon. Later on, the Ninja try to make the best of their situation, but immediately regret what they had said to Zane. To their surprise, Zane returns, conveying to them that he had not been hurt by what they had said, but merely had seen and followed the Falcon again. He then leads them to where he had followed the falcon to: an abandoned ship in the middle of the Sea of Sand, that would be their new home, and goes by the name "Destiny's Bounty."

After being betrayed by the Hypnobrai, Lloyd uses a map of other tombs to find the Tomb of the Fangpyre and reawakens the Fangpyre Tribe.

Master Wu informs the Ninja that their Dragons have reached the age when they need to fly off in order to go through a stage of metamorphosis. This leaves the Ninja without transportation.

Jay and the Ninja go to Ed & Edna's Scrap N Junk to visit Jay's parents, Ed and Edna, only to find out the Fangpyre have injected venom into them, and Lloyd has taken over the Junkyard.

To fight off the Fangpyre (who's venom turn's people and objects into snakes), the Ninja find out they can transform their weapons into elemental vehicles (Jay's Storm Fighter, Kai's Blade Cycle, Zane's Ice Glider, and Cole's Tread Assault). They manage to get the Fangpyre Staff, which Nya extracts the anti-venom from to reverse the effects on Ed and Edna. With a bit of help from Jay's father, Jay activates the Bounty's new flying function that allows them to escape the approaching Fangpyre, but the staff falls over board in the process.

Master Wu travels to a dark dimension and finds Lord Garmadon, who's revealed to have four arms. After informing him of Lloyd's releasing the Serpentine and his imprisonment at Pythor's hands, Garmadon agrees to return to Ninjago to rescue his son.

After following the Falcon into Birchwood Forest, Zane finds out that he and the Falcon are robots. Prior to this event, Zane was in shock for a while. Zane discovered a memory switch in his robotic body which leads to him remembering his creator. After accepting this, Zane discovers his True Potential.

Jay and Nya are at the Mega Monster Amusement Park but Jay becomes a snake after pricking his finger on a skeleton from a Fangpyre. Meanwhile, Pythor and the other Serpentine find the first Fangblade. They tie Nya to a rollercoaster and Nya reveals to Jay that she is Samurai X. After that, Jay discovers his True Potential.

The Ninja are searching for the second Fangblade and Cole says he has seen the Fangblade on the Blade Cup, a trophy which his father had won many times. The Ninja go to Cole's father and train to be dancers to get the Cup but the Serpentine sees it too. The Ninja go to the Concert Hall of Ninjago City and win the Cup but Pythor steals it and crushes Cole and his father, leading Cole to discover his True Potential.

After all his training, Kai unlocks his True Potential upon realizing he wasn't destined to become the Green Ninja but to protect him: everyone soon realizes Lloyd is the Green Ninja and must face his father. Meanwhile, the Serpentine obtain the Fangpyre Fangblade and are one away from releasing The Great Devourer.

The Ninja capture Spitta and later figure out that the Serpentine are using underground tunnels to avoid them.

Lloyd suggests getting the remaining three Fangblades while Python retrieves the Venomari Fangblade. The Ninja train in preparation and infiltrate the Constrictai Tomb, leaving Lloyd and Garmadon behind.

Lloyd catches his father trying to steal the Ninjas' secrets, and confronting him, gets him to leave. The ninja fight the Serpentine, only to fall into Pythor's trap.

Pythor places the Fangblades together and holds a Slither Pit to celebrate.

Lloyd dons the Green Ninja robes and confronts Pythor alongside his father and the Skulkin. The ninja get the fang blades and escape on the Destiny's Bounty, but Pythor sneaks inside.

Master Wu gets a vision of the Great Devourer being awoken.

Pythor saves the Fang blades from being thrown into Torchfire Mountain and escapes on a nearby train with his Serpentine forces, converting it into the Serpentine Train.

The Ninja pursue Pythor, but he manages to awaken the Great Devourer, only to be eaten alongside Master Wu.

The Great Devourer destroys the Destiny's Bounty.

The Ninja use the Tornado of Creation to create the Ultra Sonic Raider and use it to discover the Great Devourer's weakness on its forehead.

The Great Devourer attacks Ninjago City and the ninja are helpless against it, even when the dragons return in the form of the Ultra Dragon.

Garmadon attempts to go back to the Dark Realm, but upon noticing the return of the serpent that cursed him, arrives to help the ninja kill it.

The Ninja begrudgingly entrust Garmadon with the Golden Weapons, and Garmadon destroys the Great Devourer, only to escape with the weapons in tow. Master Wu survives, reconciling with the ninja, and Pythor escapes, undetected.

The Final Battle

(Season 2)

The Ninja fix up the city and train Lloyd to face the Dark Lord.

Lord Garmadon uses the four Golden Weapons to recreate the Destiny's Bounty into an evil variantfor his own transportation.

Garmadon shows off his powers, getting the Serpentine to abandon their generals in favor of him.

Garmadon takes the Weapons to the Golden Peaks, and forges them into the Mega Weapon.

Skales tries to kidnap Lloyd as leverage but fails and is arrested.

Lord Garmadon uses his Mega Weapon to resurrect Captain Soto and his crew of pirates, but Soto takes advantage of his exhaustion and reassumes command of his ship, before attacking Ninjago City.

The ninja meet Dareth and train at his dojo.

Lloyd unlocks Earth and his own element, Energy, and helps the ninja fight Soto and his pirates.

Soto wins, but is defeated by Nya in her Samurai Mech.

Soto and the pirates are captured, and Garmadon reassumes command of the Black Bounty, escaping.

Lord Garmadon uses the Mega Weapon to create evil versions of the Ninja.

The ninja and Lloyd are invited to Darkley's to celebrate their reforms, only for the students to reveal it as a trap and attempt to lure Lloyd back into the side of evil.

The Bizarro Ninja track their counterparts to Darkley's, forcing the students and Ninja to team up together to defeat them, and Lloyd unlocks his control over Lightning.

Garmadon uses Darnagom Enterprises to threaten Dareth's dojo into ruin.

The Ninja join the Ninjaball Run to save Dareth's Dojo. Skales escapes prison and the ninja win the race, getting back their ship, and Skales rescues Garmadon from the police.

Lord Garmadon uses the Mega Weapon to turn the Ninja into children, and awakens the remains of an extinct Grundle. In the process of turning the Ninja older (and killing the Grundal), Lloyd becomes a teenager.

The Ninja go back in time to stop Garmadon from changing the future to his own desires, destroying the Mega Weapon in the process.

The Ninja meet Misako, Lloyd's mother.

Garmadon, inspired by Soto's tales, attempts to find the Island of Darkness and succeed where the pirate failed. However, unimpressed by his plans, Skales, shoves him into the Endless Ocean, leaving him to drown, and is crowned the second Snake King.

Garmadon washes up on the shore of an island and meets the weakened Overlord. Acting as his champion, Garmadon activates a switch that raises the Island of Darkness from the Endless Ocean.

Skales leads the Serpentine to dig tunnels underneath Ninjago City, destroying its foundations and causing earthquakes.

The Serpentine become trapped underground in the tomb of the Stone army, simultaneously awakening the long dormant Stone Army.

Garmadon activates the Celestial Clock and dons the Helmet of Shadows, summoning the Stone Army to the Island of Darkness and assuming control.

The ninja sail to the Island of Darkness.

Garmadon begins digging up troves of Dark Matter to power the Garmatron.

The Falcon is captured by the Stone Army.

Zane reunites with Dr. Julien, his father and creator, and frees the Leviathan.

Zane saves the Falcon.

The Ninja go to the Temple of Light and gain the Elemental Blades, giving them an advantage, and Lloyd gains the power of the Golden Dragon, allowing him to defeat the Stone Warriors.

The ninja attempt to stop the Celestial Clock from finishing its countdown but fail, and the Garmatron is finished.

Nya is corrupted by Dark Matter.

Garmadon uses the Garmatron to infect Ninjago with darkness, shifting the balance and allowing the Overlord to cross over into Ninjago by possessing Garmadon.

The Overlord wrecks the Destiny's Bounty and escapes with the Stone Army to Ninjago City, and proceeds to convert nearly everyone under his control.

The Ninja unlock the Golden Mech and with the Ultra Dragon fly back to Ninjago for the final battle.

Nya destroys the Golden Mech, and Dareth dons the Helmet of Shadows, placing the Stone Army under his command.

Jay, Cole, and Zane get corrupted by Dark Matter in their efforts to help Lloyd defeat the Overlord.

Lloyd becomes the Ultimate Spinjitzu Master and defeats the Overlord, restoring both balance between Good and Evil, with Jay, Cole, Zane, Nya and, especially Garmadon being purified from evil.

Post-Final Battle

Cyrus Borg turns Ninjago City into a futuristic metropolis with new technologies, becoming New Ninjago City.

The Overlord's spirit survives his battle with Lloyd and infiltrates Borg Industries' computers, transforming himself into a virus in the process.

Garmadon builds a Monastery and assumes pacifistic ideals to atone for his crimes.

The Ninja (all except Lloyd) become teachers at Master Wu's Academy.

Dr. Julien, once again, perishes from old age.

P.I.X.A.L. is built.

The Serpentine free themselves from the Stone Army tomb and become pacifistic to atone for their ways. Skales marries Selma and has a son that he names after himself, Skales Jr.

Age of Technology

(Season 3)

The Ninja and the others visit Borg Tower in the recently new and renovated city.

Nya takes the perfect match compatibility and finds out Cole is designated as her perfect match, thus straining the friendship between Cole and Jay.

Cyrus Borg gives the Ninja the techno blades and all of New Ninjago City's tech becomes hacked by the Digital Overlord.

The Digital Overlord virus begins to take over New Ninjago City.

The Overlord converts Cyrus into a cyborg, possesses him, and creates the Nindroids.

Cole develops feelings for Nya.

P.I.X.A.L. is freed from the Overlord's control and becomes the ninjas' ally.

The ninja destroy Ninjago's main power station, knocking out the power and deactivating most of the tech in Ninjago. Pixar is deactivated as a result.

Cyrus is rescued in his tower, but Pythor rescues the Overlord's hard drive and moves it to his underground lair.

Master Wu becomes Techno Wu.

With Ed and Edna's help, Pixal is reactivated; However, Pythor and Techno Wu use Electro Cobrai to reactivate the nindroids, though eventually escape.

To investigate Pythor's white scale, the Ninja find the Serpentine in the Stone Army Tomb. Acidicus tells them about the Curse of the Golden Master, only for Nindroids to attack.

Pythor attacks Garmadon and Lloyd at Hiroshi's Labryinth, revealing himself and leaving Garmadon to die in the Endless Ocean.

The Overlord begins draining Lloyd's power.

The Ninja go to the Digiverse and defeated the Digital Overlord, with Pythor and the Nindroids, along with a captured Cyrus Borg, escaping. The Mech Dragon crashes, but Lloyd escapes in time. Wu is freed from the Overlord's control.

The Overlord, having drained enough power to become physical, is rescued from the Mech Dragon's wreckage by Pythor, and hides in the Anacondrai's stomach in order to conceal his weakened form.

Lloyd decides to halt the Overlord's plan by splitting the Golden Power apart, forcing the Overlord to use his other plan, Codename: Arcturus.

The ninja track Pythor to Ouroboros, where a rocket is being built, and board it in time.

The Nindroids are sent to space to retrieve the remains of the Golden Weapons, the ninja acting as stowaways. Pythor and Cyrus recapture Borg Tower in anticipation of Cryptor's return with the Golden Weapons.

Cryptor retrieves the Golden Weapons and escapes, arriving back at Borg Tower. The Overlord, using a machine, recreates his physical form and gets to work forging the Golden Armor so he can become the Golden Master prophesized by the Serpentine.

The ninja build a miniature rocket out of the remains of the Nindroids' space ship and return to Ninjago.

After regrouping with their allies, they confront the Overlord, the latter now reborn as the Golden Master and having used his powers to convert New Ninjago City into a massive fortress.

Cyrus is freed from the Overlord's control and escapes to the Temple of Fortitude, giving the ninja a shrinking pill to stop the Overlord and Stone Warrior armors to protect them.

Nya tricks Mindroid into attacking Cryptor.

Pythor saves the Overlord by swallowing the shrinking pill and is shrunken, before being chased off by the Falcon.

Zane sacrifices himself to defeat the Golden Master by absorbing the Golden Armor and unleashing a blast of element power, the explosion destroying his body and destroying the Overlord and the Nindroids. The Golden Armor is left behind, and the Ninja grieve Zane's death at his funeral.

Zane survives by implanting his consciousness into Borg Tower.

Seperate Paths

The Ninja are divided, and Lloyd is the only Ninja remaining after Zane's sacrifice.

Cyrus Borg locks up the Golden Armor in a hidden location.

Mezmo hosts Slither Pit matches underneath Ninjago, which Kai regularly attends.

Jay becomes a gameshow host.

Cole becomes a lumberjack.

All the future tech from the past season is removed and Ninjago City reverts back to its modern self after the events of the Digital Virus.

Zane rebuilds himself as the Titanium Ninja. He and P.I.X.A.L. are captured by Ronin and sold to Master Chen, who steals Zane's powers and scraps P.I.X.A.L..

The Tournament of Elements

(Season 4)

Chen gets a Chair.

The Ninja meet at Chen's Noodle House, meet their new foes, and find out that Zane is still alive.

The Ninja join the tournament.

Kai meets Skylor and falls in love with her.

Karlof is eliminated from the tournament.

Bolobo, Gravis, and Ash are eliminated from the tournament.

Cole gets eliminated from the tournament, though his friendship with Jay is restored.

Zane decides to place P.I.X.A.L.'s data chip into his own database.

Cole finds and frees Zane.

Jacob is eliminated from the tournament.

Chamille is eliminated from the tournament.

The Ninja are able to ally themselves with the Elemental Masters.

Kai finds out that Skylor is Chen's daughter.

The remaining Elemental Masters, except Lloyd, are captured.

Chen tries to ally Kai, who leads Lloyd into a trap.

Lloyd is captured and loses his power.

The Elemental Masters escape and kill the Anacondrai Serpent.

The Ninja re-unite and capture several of the cultists except for Chen, Clouse, Zugu, Eyezor, Kapau, and Chope, and Skylor gets captured.

Skylor escapes but is recaptured alongside Kai so her powers can be used to power the spell. Close and Garmadon clash, and the former opens a portal to the Cursed Realm, only to be thrown inside.

The spell activates and Skylor, Garmadon, Chen, and the Anacondrai Cultists become Anacondrai. The Cultists escape and flee the island, heading to Ninjago.

The Elemental Masters overcome their fear and summon Elemental Dragons, arriving back at Ninjago.

The spell's affects begin to wear off, and to render it permanent, Chen seeks out Pythor's essence; likewise, hoping to find a weakness of the Anacondrai, the ninja confront a shrunken Pythor within Kryptarium prison.

Kapau'rai and Chop'rai break in, allowing the rest of the cultists to come in and kidnap Pythor, who reveals the truth of Chen's involvement in the Serpentine Wars.

Pythor's sweat is used to render the transformation permanent, and Chen declares the Second Serpentine War and takes over most of Ninjago.

The ninja rally several allies and fight the Cultists at the Corridor of Elders.

Pythor brings the Book of Spells and Garmadon is sent to the Cursed Realm to free the Anacondrai Generals, defeating the Cultists, but Morro escapes.

Post-Second Serpentine War

The Falcon is updated with a metallic exterior.

Ronin loots Chen's Hall of Fame and sets up a pawn shop at the City of Stiix, and later steals the Scroll of Airjitzu at the library of Domu.

The Possession

(Season 5)

An exhibit about the Ninja is opened at the Ninjago History Museum.

Wu attempts to retire from being a master and opens his own tea shop.

Lloyd goes to the museum and Morro possesses him.

Kai faces Morro to try and get to Lloyd. Kai hears Lloyd trying to fight Morro's possession.

Morro and Wu fight for the staff. Kai gets close to stopping Morro, but fails, and Morro gets the Staff of the First Spinjitzu Master, but not before Wu learns of the symbols engraved in its side.

The Ninja go to Stiix.

The Ninja and Morro try to get the Scroll of Airjitzu from Ronin.

Morro gets the Scroll and learns Airjitzu, and Ronin becomes an ally of the ninja.

The Ninja enter Master Yang's Temple looking for another scroll, and in the process, Cole becomes a ghost.

The Ninja learn Airjitzu.

The Ninja enter the Cloud Kingdom, only to be ambushed by the Ghosts.

Morro gets the Sword of Sanctuary, only for Kai to steal it back.

Ronin steals the Sword and brings it to Morro to free his cursed soul from Soul Archer's debt, only to be swindled.

The Caves of Despair is destroyed due to a chain reaction.

The Ninja and Morro look for the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master.

The Ninja see their future, whilst Cole simply sees nothing.

The Ninja and Morro find the Tomb, and Morro gets the Realm Crystal.

Morro opens the Cursed Realm to free The Preeminent.

The Preeminent drags Lloyd into the Cursed Realm.

Lloyd finds his father in the Cursed Realm, and with his encouragement escapes and fights with Morro over the Realm Crystal, traveling through multiple realms in the process.

Nya unlocks her True Potential and defeats The Preeminent, resulting in the death of both the Anacondrai Cultists and the Ghost Army, and Clouse escapes in time. The Preeminent attempts to drag Morro to his death, and Morro and Wu reconcile their pasts before the former hands him the Realm Crystal and dissipates in the Endless Ocean.

The Ninja bring back Lloyd from the realm Morro left him in, with Lloyd ready to train to become a master.

The Cursed Realm's destruction causes the collapse of its sister realm, Djinjago.

Skybound

(Season 6)

Cliff Gordon dies.

The Ninja deal with their newfound fame and while attempting to escape news helicopters, Nya refuses to take Jay's hand, exposing them.

Clouse returns to Stiix and frees Nadakhan, a Djinn who is trapped in the Teapot of Tyrahn.

Nadakhan traps Clouse and Wu in the Teapot of Tyrahn.

The Ninja are framed by Nadakhan and are incarcerated in Kryptarium Prison thanks to the efforts of Ronin and the Police Commissioner.

Nadakhan traps Misako in the Teapot of Tyrahn and successfully retrieves the Realm Crystal from Hiroshi's Labyrinth.

Nadakhan brings his crew back to Ninjago.

Nadakhan visits Djinjago and learns of its collapse as a result of the ninjas' actions, and gets the Sword of Souls from his father.

Nadakhan and his crew return to Ninjago, swearing vengeance.

The Ninja escape Kryptarium Prison with the help of Captain Soto, who reveals how to defeat a Djinn through the use of a Tiger Widow's venom.

The ninja infiltrate the Police headquarters and learn the whereabouts of Nadakhan's ship, Misfortune's Keep.

The Misfortune's Keep is converted into an airship and escapes before Cole and Lloyd can find it.

Nadakhan confronts Jay alone and gets him to wish to become rich.

As a result of Jay's wish, Jay learns the truth of his parentage, inheriting massive wealth due to his father's death.

To lure out the ninja, the Sky Pirates attack New Ninjago City. As a result of the ninjas' heroic actions, the Police Commissioner gives them a pardon.

The Ninja find the Map to the Tiger Widow venom on Nadakhan's ship.

The Realm Crystal is accidentally destroyed by Flintlocke.

Kai is trapped in the Djinn Blade.

Nadakhan uses the Djinn Blade to slowly reconstruct Djinjago.

Zane is trapped in the Djinn Blade.

The Ninja grab the Tiger Widow Venom. However, Jay is captured by Nadakhan.

Jay learns of Nadakhan's plan to marry Nya on the newly-remade Djinjago, giving him infinite wishes.

The Ninja manage to free Jay.

Cole and Lloyd are trapped in the Djinn Blade.

Flintlocke realizes Nadakhan's true intentions and attempts to mutiny but fails and is demoted.

Jay and Nya return to the Lighthouse Prison and meet Echo Zane.

Nya is captured by Nadakhan.

Jay gets the help of Skylor, Echo Zane, Ronin, Dareth, and Soto to free Nya.

The Ninja are freed from the Djinn Blade.

Nadakhan marries Nya and gets infinite wishes, before betraying several of the Sky Pirates.

Dogshank and Flintlocke help the ninja fight Nadakhan.

Nadakhan and Nya are hit with the Tiger Widow venom thanks to Flintlocke.

Nadakhan's magic begins to disappear, causing Djinjago to collapse on Ninjago below.

To save Nya's life, Jay wishes that she had taken his hand and that Clouse never found the Teapot of Tyrahn.

Weakened by the Tiger Widow venom, Nadakhan complies perfectly with Jay's wish and undoes the events of the season, leaving nearly everyone, except for Jay and Nya, with no memory of what happened.

Back on the rooftop, Jay and Nya reconcile and their kiss is broadcast across Ninjago.

Clouse, with no memories of what happened, attempts to retrieve the Teapot of Tyrahn but is driven off by the citizens of Stiix, leaving the Teapot lost forever.

The Realm of Shadows

Wu sends some travelers off to send Kai and Nya a message.

While Kai and Nya are training, some visitors arrive with a teapot and a dragon egg. The teapot held a message inside of it that told the two Ninja to raise the dragon egg, and that it was important to the balance. At the same moment, Kai dropped the dragon egg and it broke, unleashing the young dragon, Bandit.

Meanwhile, Clouse is in a temple in the Toxic Bogs, planning to use his newly recruited Shadow Minions to capture Bandit, and perform a ceremony that will turn him into a Shadow Dragon.

Kai and Nya go to the Destiny's Bounty to tell the others the news, while the travelers tag along. Zane remarks that Bandit appears to be a rare YinYang Dragon, that depending on how it's raised, will either become a Shadow Dragon or a Light Dragon.

Not too long after, the Shadow Minions attack Destiny's Bounty and capture Bandit. The Bounty soon crash lands in the Toxic Bogs. Once the ship crash landed, Kai and Nya went to the temple where Clouse was performing the ceremony.

Clouse finishes the ceremony, turning Bandit into a Shadow Dragon, but with the encouragement of Kai and Nya, and the travelers, Bandit transforms into a Light Dragon. The temple soon collapses, and Clouse pledged to one day meet the Ninja again. Bandit soon flies away to its destiny beyond.

Dark Island Trilogy

Day of the Departed

The Ninja test out their new machines before going to the museum where they see an exhibition of old enemies.

Cole is upset about being a ghost and is suddenly forgotten by his friends.

Cole goes to the Temple of Airjitzu to get revenge on Yang for turning him into a ghost.

Yang tricks Cole into using the Yin Blade to open a rift to the Departed Realm during the Yin-Yang Eclipse.

Yang's students detain Cole while he reveals his plan of returning to Ninjago during the eclipse.

Yang releases the souls of Chen, Morro, Samukai, Cryptor, and Kozu who inhabit their mannequins at the museum.

Yang tells them that they can stay in Ninjago if they destroy the Ninja.

Pythor joins the villains who each pick their target (Chen chooses Kai and Nya, Morro chooses Wu, Pythor chooses Lloyd, Cryptor chooses Zane, Samukai chooses Jay, and Kozu picks Dareth.

The Ninja are scattered across several areas of Ninjago and are attacked by their old foes.

Morro visits Wu and instead of battling him he warns him of Yang's plans.

The Ninja and Dareth manage to defeat their enemies sending back to the Departed Realm while Pythor escapes.

Wu and a redeemed Morro tell the Ninja of Yang's plans and how he made them forget Cole.

The Ninja rush to the Temple of Airjitzu as Morro returns to the Departed Realm at peace.

Cole escapes Yang's henchmen and battles his way to stop him.

Yang tries to demoralize Cole by mentioning his friends forgot him until he hears them call him. Rejuvenated, Cole attacks and overpowers Yang which releases his students from his mind control spell.

Yang's former students escape turning them back into humans.

Yang reveals he cursed himself in order not to be forgotten as Cole relates to this.

Cole states Yang would of been forever remembered because he created Airjitzu.

Cole tries to take Yang with him through the rift but Yang explains how the curse works of one ghost remains.

Yang then sends Cole through the rift turning him into a human again.

The Ninja make the restored Temple of Airjitzu their new base and celebrate the Day of the Departed.

The Hands of Time

(Season 7)

Acronix returns after 40 years of being lost in Time to take his revenge on Wu for putting him there. When The Forward Time Blade arrives, Acronix accelerates Wu's growth and defeats the Ninja with ease.

Acronix reunites with Dr. Saunders who reveals his identity of Krux as they embrace and plot their revenge.

Zane protects Cyrus Borg but is taken down while Borg is kidnapped by the Time Twins and forced to make a weapon for them.

Various people and metal are stolen by the Vermillion to use for building armor and weapons.

Kai investigates his parents' disappearance and discovers Dr. Saunders, who he finds out is Krux, was behind it. Krux tells Kai that his parents were a pair of traitors who aided him and his brother in many ways.

The last three Time Blades appear one after another.

A mysterious person donning the Samurai X suit appears.

Kai and Nya reunite with their parents and learn why they disappear.

Kai, Nya, Master Wu, Acronix and Krux travel in time, 40 years before, after the defeat of the Serpertine.

Master Wu sacrifices himself and together with Acronix and Krux they are lost in time.

After the loss of Master Wu the Ninjas need a master and Jay names Lloyd as "Master Lloyd."

Source:Ninjago Wiki!

So like i said you do not have to include all the detail

Thank you for taking on the challenge!

When your done post it on your blog and @ me.

make sure you put on your blog and @shiryokuninja-chan

Good Luck! this will be an awesome collab

#ninjago #ninjago animation #ninjago project #ninjago collabs #CoLLAB #nijago history #ninjago history!#lego ninjago #tlnm

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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What The Mandalorian Means for Ahsoka Tano’s Future in Star Wars

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Despite never appearing in the flesh in any of the movies, former Jedi padawan Ahsoka Tano is undoubtedly one of the most popular characters in Star Wars. A hero in every sense of the word, Ahsoka’s journey spans almost the entire film saga, just in animated form.

First introduced as Anakin Skywalker’s apprentice in The Clone Wars animated series, Ahsoka quickly became one of the main protagonists of the series, as we watched her grow as both a Jedi and a commander who led clone forces for the Republic. And even though her time with the Jedi came to an end before Order 66, when she chose to walk away from the Order in search of her own path, she continued to fight for others.

In Rebels, she became the spy known as “Fulcrum,” helping the fledgling Rebellion in its struggle to topple the Empire. It was during this time that she also faced Darth Vader on an ancient Sith planet called Malachor and learned the truth about the fate of her former master. But the revelation did not break her, even as her duel with Vader left her stranded on Malachor.

Stream your Star Wars favorites right here!

Ahsoka’s live action debut in The Mandalorian, played by Rosario Dawson, marks another major step in her journey. No longer someone trying to find her place in the galaxy or with the Jedi, she now uses her powers to help those who need it. And as Magistrate Morgan Elsbeth learns in the “The Jedi,” nothing will stop Ahsoka from seeking justice.

“She is, for lack of a term, a master, because she’s largely an independent at this point,” The Clone Wars and Rebels showrunner Dave Filoni, who is also an executive producer on The Mandalorian, told Vanity Fair. “I play her much more as a knowledgeable knight. A wandering samurai character is what she really is at this point. I’ve always made comparisons to her heading toward the Gandalf stage, where she is the one that has the knowledge of the world and can help others through it. I think she’s reached that point.”

But if you followed Ahsoka’s journey from the animated series to The Mandalorian, you probably noticed that there are still some gaps in her story. How did Ahsoka escape Malachor and show up on Corvus so many years later? And how was she able to speak to Rey in The Rise of Skywalker? Most importantly, what does “The Jedi” tell us about Ahsoka’s future?

How Is Ahsoka Tano Alive in The Mandalorian?

While we know Ahsoka Tano reappeared in the very final scene of Rebels, reuniting with Mandalorian hero Sabine Wren on Lothal before setting out in search of Ezra Bridger, who went missing after being launched into hyperspace while fighting Grand Admiral Thrawn in space, we don’t really know how Ahsoka escaped Malachor in the first place.

For those of you who don’t remember (or didn’t watch Rebels, which shame on you), Ahsoka stayed behind to duel Vader inside the Sith temple on Malachor while the rest of the heroes escaped in the season 2 episode “Twilight of the Apprentice.” For almost two seasons after that, Ahsoka’s fate was unclear, with some believing that the fan-favorite character had met her end at the hands of her master.

But season 4 episode “A World Between Worlds” revealed the truth. In the episode, Ezra gains access to a mystical realm containing portals to different points in time and space. It’s through one of these portals that Ezra is able to pull Ahsoka out of Malachor, just as Vader is about to land a killing blow with his lightsaber.

For a moment, it seems as if Ahsoka has found a way off Malachor. But when Emperor Palpatine senses the world between worlds through the Force and tries to gain access to it, Ezra and Malachor are separated while trying to stop the Sith lord. In the process, Ahsoka is forced to jump back through the portal to Malachor. She then walks back into the Sith temple to an uncertain future.

That’s the last we see of her on screen until she reunites with Sabine in the epilogue of the Rebels series finale “Family Reunion – and Farewell,” which takes place a year after Return of the Jedi. “The Jedi” reveals that Ahsoka is still searching for Ezra four years later, but doesn’t shed light on the sequence of events that led her from Malachor to Lothal and then Corvus.

The best answer we have comes from an unlikely source: the Star Wars Card Trader mobile trading card game from Topps. A series of Ahsoka cards designed by Filoni himself reveals that Ahsoka found another portal within the Sith temple on Malachor that led her back into the world between worlds and “on a spiritual journey that changed the course of her life,” according to Wookieepedia. That’s a pretty vague answer to a very big gap in Ahsoka’s story, but since Filoni designed these cards, they must be canon, right?

The good news is that Ahsoka’s escape from the planet means that we’ll hopefully get to watch many more of her adventures on The Mandalorian as an older and wiser hero.

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What Is Togruta Life Expectancy?

Just how old Ahsoka is when she appears in The Mandalorian? According to Wookieepedia, Ahsoka was born in 36 BBY (Before the Battle of Yavin). Since The Mandalorian takes place in five years after Return of the Jedi in 9 ABY (After the Battle of Yavin), this means that Ahsoka is around 45 years old in “The Jedi,” leaving plenty more years of adventuring ahead of her.

Barring an illness or any of the usual hazards that come with fighting bad guys in the galaxy far, far away, just how many years does Ahsoka have left? While there’s no canon answer when it comes to Togruta life expectancy, the old Legends continuity did state that Togruta could live up to 94 years, a pretty long lifespan when you consider that real-world human life expectancy is about 72 years. Of course, this pales in comparison to the lifespan of Yoda’s species, who can live for centuries.

Regardless of whether the life expectancy of Togruta is the same in the Disney canon, I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Beloved Star Wars characters rarely die of natural causes, which brings us to a big question about Ahsoka’s future: how is her journey fated to end?

How Did Ahsoka Tano Die?

Even if she’s not physically in the movie, Ahsoka’s presence is felt in The Rise of Skywalker when she speaks to Rey through the Force during the film’s climactic battle with Palpatine. She can be heard saying, “Rey!” when the young hero reaches out to the generations of Jedi before her to give her the strength to defeat the Sith once and for all. Although it’s just as likely that her inclusion in this scene is simply a wink at the Star Wars fans who love the character, Ahsoka’s single line in The Rise of Skywalker has led some to wonder whether this means she died prior to the events of the Sequel Trilogy.

There is some “evidence” that this might be the case, primarily the fact that the other Jedi who speak to Rey in The Rise of Skywalker — Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, Mace Windu, Yoda, Qui-Gon Jinn, Luminara Unduli, Aayla Secura, Kanan Jarrus, and Adi Gallia — are all dead. But the difference is that we’ve witnessed the deaths of all of these other characters, whether it be in the films, the TV series, or in the pages of the books and comics. (While we don’t see how Master Unduli died, her death was confirmed in Rebels.)

Ahsoka’s fate, on the other hand, is not written in stone. As far as we know, Ahsoka could have lived decades beyond The Mandalorian, and Filoni even suggested after the release of the film that, just because Rey could hear her voice on Exegol, that didn’t mean Ahsoka was necessarily dead.

Was thinking of all of you this fine morning, Happy Holidays! – Dave pic.twitter.com/WpD0kKMbfk

— Dave Filoni (@dave_filoni) December 25, 2019

Filoni went as far as to tell io9 that the movie “doesn’t really have any big implications to what I’m doing with the character, to be honest. I just thought it was a really fun thing. I thought J.J. [Abrams]’s instinct to be so inclusive with all these various elements of Star Wars and characters [was great]. And I thought it would be a great thing for the actors involved to be a part of something that was just really this celebrating moment of the Star Wars saga. So I didn’t think of it in a literal story [way]. The film, to me, is like a different area.”

In other words, Ahsoka’s cameo in The Rise of Skywalker could be nothing more than just a wink at fans. Certainly, Ahsoka’s story in “The Jedi” suggests that she has plenty more to do. Next on her list is finding Grand Admiral Thrawn, who could lead him to where Ezra is.

Will Ahsoka Be in The Mandalorian Again?

In many ways, and this is pure speculation, “The Jedi” plays like a backdoor pilot, setting up what could be Ahsoka’s own standalone series on Disney+. The episode introduces just enough of Ahsoka’s own mission without giving much of it away. By the end of the episode, we know that Ahsoka’s on her way to find Thrawn, a confrontation so many years in the making that it seems too big (and distracting) to happen on The Mandalorian.

But even if Ahsoka were to get her own series, that doesn’t mean she would never cross paths with Mando and Grogu again. Since Disney bought the Star Wars franchise in 2012, the studio has been working to build a shared universe of stories on screen that communicate with each other and share characters from one property to the next — just like the Marvel Cinematic Universe. In the same way that The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and WandaVision are meant to tie into the upcoming Marvel movies, The Mandalorian and a potential Ahsoka series (and the rumored Boba Fett spinoff) could be set up to interact with each other, too.

In fact, “The Jedi” has left the door open for Ahsoka to appear in future The Mandalorian episodes, even as she searches for Thrawn in her own series. She’s already played a pivotal role in Mando and Grogu’s own journey, not only helping the bounty hunter learn his little companion’s real name but also revealing Grogu’s tragic history. Unable to fully understand the child or the way of the Jedi, Mando has needed people to show him the way throughout his quest, and Ahsoka could prove to be the perfect guide and mentor for the duo when it comes to the mysteries of the Force, even if she won’t outright train Grogu as an apprentice. As Filoni said of Ahsoka’s resemblance to Gandalf: “She is the one that has the knowledge of the world and can help others through it.”

Will Ahsoka Meet Luke Skywalker?

In “The Jedi,” Ahsoka points Mando and Grogu to Tython, a mysterious planet powerful in the Force that could be the birthplace of the Jedi Order. There, Grogu must decide whether to reach out with the Force to another Jedi or stay with Mando.

“If he reaches out through the Force, there’s a chance a Jedi may sense his presence and come searching for him,” Ahsoka tells Mando. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Fans’ ears likely perked up at this line of dialogue since we all know of at least one other Jedi operating in the galaxy five years after Return of the Jedi: Luke Skywalker himself. Is the show hinting that Luke will make an appearance on the show to take Grogu in as his student? That seems unlikely since Mando and Grogu are the emotional core of the series, but Ahsoka’s acknowledgement that there are other active Jedi in the galaxy could mean that she’s aware that Luke is out there.

Could this mean that Ahsoka has already met Luke or is poised to meet him in the future? Either way, their meeting seems inevitable. In fact, an Ahsoka and Luke story would provide the rhyming poetry that Star Wars so often deploys: Anakin’s old apprentice finds Anakin’s son years after Vader’s death and helps him learn something new about the Force or the Jedi. Ahsoka could guide Luke in ways that Anakin could not, while she could learn more about her master’s ultimate sacrifice for his son.

The only issue, of course, is that Mark Hamill is much older than Luke would be five years after Return of the Jedi, which means that a potential meeting with Ahsoka would likely involve some heavy CGI to de-age Hamill or a recast of Luke. Unless Ahsoka doesn’t meet Luke until much later in his life, it might be time to ring up Sebastian Stan.

Keep up with all of The Mandalorian season 2 news here.

The post What The Mandalorian Means for Ahsoka Tano’s Future in Star Wars appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/39sJDHw

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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phynxrizng · 7 years

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SOME MONDAY, MOON DAY FACTS....

Monday is the sacred day of the moon, personified as the goddesses Selene, Luna, and Mani. The moon is ruler of flow, affecting the changeable and impressionable aspects of people. If a full moon falls on a Monday, then the powers of the moon are at their most potent. Deity: Mani Zodiac Sign: Cancer Planet: Moon Tree: Willow Herb: Chickweed Stone: Agate Animal: Crab Element: Water Color: Green Rune: Lagu (L) The Celtic Tree Month of Ruis (Elder) November 25 – December 22 Runic Half-Month of Nyd – November 13 – November 27 Goddess of the Month of Cailleach/Samhain – October 31 – November 27 Source The Pagan Book of Days Nigel Pennick Today, November 27th, We Celebrate the Goddess Nephthys Nephthys The Egyptian Goddess Areas of Influence: Nephthys the Egyptian Goddess symbolised the transitional nature of death. In one Egyptian myth she helped Isis collect the scattered limbs of Osiris to reconstitute his body. In her funerary role she was considered a fearsome but necessary companion, assisting the dead through the different levels of the afterlife. She was also the Goddess of mourning, comforting the relatives of the deceased. These wailing mourners were described as the "hawks of Nephthys". This Goddess was the guardian of Hapi who protected the Canopic jar which contained the lungs. She protected the Pharaoh in life as well as in death, incinerating his enemies with her fiery breath. This Deity also gave the Pharaoh the power to see that " which is hidden by moonlight," linking this Goddess to the powers of darkness and magic and making her a popular Deity with witches and magicians. Her importance has been overshadowed by her sister Isis. In reality whilst Isis governed the energy of birth, growth, development and the visible she represented death, decay, stagnation and the invisible. In many ways she can be viewed as being the opposite force or the other side of the coin to Isis. However, because many fear death and magic in the modern world, rather than recognizing these forces as part of the cycle of life, her role has been sidelined. Even this analogy does not truly represent the importance of this Goddess, recent evidence suggests that although there are no surviving temples dedicated to this Goddess she was worshipped widely. This Goddess also performed an important role at births where she stood at the head of the bed to comfort and assist the mothers whilst her sister Isis, acted as midwife. This Goddess was worshipped by nursing mothers as she was considered to be the nursing mother of Horus and the Pharaoh himself. This Goddess was also known as Nebethet and Nebkhat. Origins and Genealogy: Seb and Nut were her parents of. Her siblings included Isis, Osiris and Set. Married to Set the Egyptian God associated with the barren desert and sterility meant she was often thought to be a childless Goddess. Later myths however, suggest that after a union with Osiris she gave birth to Anubis. Strengths: she is a protective Goddess and represents the cycle of death and rebirth. Weaknesses: The duality of her nature means she is often neglected and misunderstood. Symbolism In her funerary role Nephthys was often symbolized by a hawk, falcon or a woman with wings outstretched in protection. She is also shown with her Hieroglyphs (a basket and a house) balanced on her head. Sacred Birds: Falcons and Hawks. Additionally this Goddess is the protector of the Pheonix whose rise from the ashes symbolises rebit Nephthys 's Archetypes The Witch Uses knowledge of the universal laws of nature, the conscious mind and esoteric powers to manifest their desires. The shadow witch uses their gifts to increase their own power. This deity was associated with the unseen world and magic. The Crone The Crone represents the wise old woman whose child bearing days are behind her. Other associations with this Archetype include: compassion, transformation, healing and bawdiness death and endings. She is the respected older woman or grand-parent at the heart of family who enjoys life and sharing her experience. Unfortunately the word Crone or Hag often has negative connotations as many wise woman and midwives were persecuted as witches in the middle ages. Shadow Crone is the bitter, old woman who has failed to learn from her life. She blames all her failings and unhappiness on a society that no longer respects the elders. As a result she becomes increasingly isolated and fearful. Nephythys is a crone goddess as she is the goddess that assists with death and dying How to work with This Archetype The Witch The Witch maybe one of your Archetypes can if you have the gift of understanding how to transform situations, influence people, and make your visions and dreams a reality. The Shadow Witch reminds you not to use these abilities to gain power over others as this is not magic but sorcery. The Crone This maybe one of your Archetypes if you have gained wisdom, learning from your mistakes and showing a willingness to adapt to changing circumstances. You are experiencing the Crone's shadow if you have become rigid in your beliefs and have become stuck in a rut having lost all ability to let those areas of your life go that no longer serve you. Source Goddess-Guide.come Ritual Work Associated with Monday The Day of the Moon Perfume: White Poppy, White Rose, Wallflower Incense: Myrtle Wood: Willow Color: Silver, Grey-white Influences: Agriculture, Domestic, Longlife, Medicine, Travels, Visions, Theft (new moon) Reference: A Book of Pagan Rituals Herman Slater Your Magickal Guide to Mondays In the word Monday, we can see part of the word Moon. In the romance languages such as Italian or Spanish, this day of the week is called Lunes and clearly relates to the word lunar.On Mondays, a variety of magick may be worked. Because Monday centers on the energies of the Moon, things like psychism, dreams, feminine energy, health, success in spiritual pursuits, domestic matters, and things of family origin are especially important this day. Mondays are best for love magick and anything concerning home or family, thus old saying, Mondays child is fair of face, which seems clearly to relate to the themes of love and health. Angels of Monday are Gabriel, Arcan, Missabu, and Abuzaha. Arcan is known as the king of the angels of air and the “ruler” of Monday. Abuzaha (Abuzohar) serves Monday, and is very responsive to invocations and ritual magick. Missabu is a ministering angel of Arcan. Check whether the moon is waning or waxing to determine what your spell will be. During waning moons, do spells to rid yourself of obstacles or for wisdom and protection. During waxing moons do magic for increase of any kind or to draw something into your life. On Mondays, the best hour to work is moonrise. Get this information from your local newspaper, astrological calendar, or almanac. Source Gypsy Magic Monday--The Day of the Moon The moon, like the sun, was an object of wonder in the days of old, and was worshiped almost everywhere in some form or other, but it does not play quite so important a part in story as the sun. Since the moon is paler than the sun and its light soft and gentle, it was often regarded as being a chariot driven by a woman, but the course of the moon-goddess across the sky was similar to that of the sun-god. Diana, the moon-goddess of the Greeks and Romans, known also as Cynthia, Phoebe, and Arterms, was the twin-sister of Apollo, and drove a golden chariot drawn by milk-white horses. Diana and Apollo were children of Jupiter, and were born in the Island of Delos, where a temple to Apollo was afterwards built. Another of the Seven Wonders of the World was the temple to Diana at Ephesus, on the west coast of Asia Minor. The worship of Diana at Ephesus is mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles: "And when the town clerk had quieted the multitude, he saith, 'Ye men of Ephesus, what man is there who knoweth not how that the city of the Ephesians is temple-keeper of the great Diana and of the image which fell down from Jupiter?'" The temple was destroyed in the year A.D. 263, but remains of it may still be seen. Diana was also the Goddess of Hunting; she was a skilled archer, and spent the day in huuting, as we have seen in the story of Orion. The most famous story of Diana is that of her love for Endymion, a young shepherd--a story which has been told by the poets many times. One evening as the moon-goddess was driving silently across the sky, she saw sleeping on a hillside a handsome youth, his resting flock scattered over the gentle slope. Attracted by his beauty, Diana stepped from her chariot and gazed long at his face; then softly stooping, she kissed him lightly on the lips. Endymion, half wakened by her touch, caught a fleeting vision of the fair goddess as she hastened to her chariot. Filled with wonder at the sight, he rose quickly and rubbed his eyes, but all he saw was the bright moon floating across the dark sky, and he thought that he had been dreaming. The next night the goddess came to him again, and again he saw her with his half closed eyes. Each night when the bright rays of the moon fell on his upturned face he dreamed this wonderful dream, but he was always sleeping when the goddess came, and nevr saw her in her full and dazzling beauty. The days now seemed long and dreary to Endymion, and he waited anxiously for the night that he might see again the glorious vision. Diana was filled with dread at the thought that the beautiful youth would lose his beauty as the years went by, and at last she cast a spell over him while he slept, so that he should never wake again, and carried him away to a cave in a mountain-side known only to herself. There the loving Diana paused each night in her journey across the sky, and gazed on the face of the fair Endymion. Diana, when hunting in the forest, was attended by a band of wood-nymphs who were her faithful followers. One of these nymphs, Arethusa, was one day cooling herself after the chase on the banks of the River Alpheus, when suddenly the God of the River appeared. The startled nymph ran quickly into the woods, but the god Alpheus pursued her, telling her that he loved her and that she need fear no harm. Arethusa was too frightened to listen to the god, and ran on, till at last, worn out, she prayed to Diana for help. The moon-goddess was ever ready to help her faithful nymphs, and in answer to the prayer transformed the girl into a fountain, which she hid in a thick mist. Alpheus, suddenly losing sight of the nymph, wandered sorrowfully about, calling out her name in his distress. Arethusa now thought that she was safe, but the wind-god, Zephyrus, blew aside the mist, and Alpheus saw a fountain where there had not been one before, and guessed what had happened. He quickly changed himself into a river and rushed towards the fountain, but Arethusa sprang from the rocks and hastened away over the stones and grass. Diana now saw her fresh danger, and made an opening in the ground, through which Arethusa slipped, to find herself in the kingdom of Pluto, the God of the Underworld. Here she wandered until she found another opening, by which she escaped once again into the sunshine on the plain of Sicily. Alpheus, however, at last made his way across the sea to Sicily, where he found Arethusa and won her love. The Greeks believed that flowers cast into the River Alpheus in Greece were carried by the river as gifts to his lover, and appeared later in the fountain of Arethusa in Sicily! Among the Egyptians the moon was regarded as a god, who was named Thoth (The Measurer). He was also the God of Wisdom, Invention, Writing, and Magic. He was one of the earliest of the Egyptian gods, having come into being at the same time as Ra, the sun-god, and it was he who was said to have created the world. The Romans compared him with Mercury because, like Mercury, he invented writing. As the God of the Moon, he was represented as wearing a crescent moon on his head, and holding in his hand a stylus, a pointed instrument used by the Egyptians for writing on their wax tablets. The Babylonian moon-god was Sin, the Lord of Wisdom. He was the father of the sun-god, and was one of the greatest of the gods, owing to the fact that the Babylonians regulated their calendar by the moon. The Angles and Saxons believed that the moon was driven across the sky by Mani, the son of a giant, in a golden chariot drawn by a horse named the All Swift. As in the case of the sun, our ancestors had no distinct goddess of the moon; but we shall read of Mani again in a later chapter. Source, Witches of the Craft.com Posted by, ladyoftheabyss REPOSTED BY, PHYNXRIZNG

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writingrampant · 5 years

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New WIP!

So finished a major edit on my main WIP: Archer 887. Now wanting to embrace the october ambiance and write an idea I’ve had kicking around for a while. So here’s a very rough word vomit. I’m thinking an 1980s darker Jim Hensonish fantasy, like Willow or Labrynth.

The air lay heavy with incense. That and the darkness pressed down on her. The silken sheets dragged on her limbs. She struggled against them, against the mist numbing her thoughts. The heavy screen hurt her hands and sent fire up her arms as her muscle cried out at the exertion.

The air outside the enclosure was cold and bright. She gasped gratefully, legs wobbling as she pushed herself from the stone floor. Each deep lungful washed more of the haze from her thoughts. She could identify the space now, a bed chamber, the dark entrapment a bed. The heavy shutters surrounding it were ornately carved. Sharp edges caught her fingers while she fought for balance.

She stumbled forward, still half-blind in the dim room. It was cold outside the screens. She trembled, trying to remember. Sunlight pierced the cracks in the window shutters.

She half-ran, her shivers only partly the chill. Panic, fear, desperation. Unusual and unwelcome emotions. She bruised her fingers scrabbling at the latches of the window screens.

Finally, she threw them wide. The blast of wind blew her sweaty hair back, raising bumps on her arms and hurting her eyes. She held them open, no matter they watered.

Tamadin sprawled below her, the slate roofs shimmering in the afternoon sun. The bright colors of the markets, the boats returning from the day’s fishing. She found the temple in the distance and, with it, remembered:

Warm stone under her knees, the flicker of her candle. A sound behind her in the sanctum. A cruel hand around her neck, a thick cloth over her mouth. Then darkness.

Fury warmed her and burned away the last of the drug clouded her mind. High over the city, even above the shrieking seabirds, she could only be in one place. The Tamadin Keep mirrored the temple, a dark shadow to the beacon at the temple’s peak. She turned and lifted her chin as the heavy doors opened behind her.

A brute of man entered, his soldiers flanking. He saw her by the window and leered.

“O'nqour, lady.”

She clenched her fists. “You will pay for this blasphemy, Ero.”

“Your goddess has no power here, Nasiphe.” His eyes crawled over her body, touching on her bare shoulders, the hem of the skimpy covering she wore. “And no one will heed your screams.”

A new fear tightened her chest as his soldiers laughed meanly. Ero advanced slowly, watching her through narrowed eyes. She edged back, hand up in a futile gesture of defense.

His tone was mocking, confident in his victory. “There’s no escape. Please me, and maybe I’ll keep you for myself.”

He spoke the truth: there was no escape. Not with her life.

She whirled.

“What-? Stop her!”

The bright square of the window beckoned her. The stone edge of the window was warm from the sun, the sea air salty.

“No!” Ero’s guttural cry was lost in the shriek of the wind by her ears. She took a last look at her home and closed her eyes.

“They’re coming!”

Her eyes snapped open. The city still spread below, the sea lapping at its edge.

“Hurry!”

She looked for the voice, rough and biting. Something streaked by her, rising on the updraft. She tried to follow his path. She tumbled, buffeted on all sides. Frantic, she spread her arms, trying to steady her fall.

“Fool girl! Fly!”

Fly?

Cold shadows fell over her, colder than the wind, colder than the winter sea when ice floes drifted from the south. Three dark forms moved closer, black against the pale sky. She could feel when their fell eyes found her, stabbing into her very being.

“Quickly!”

The roof peaks rose up to threaten her, jagged teeth eager to devour her. She pushed against the air, thrusting with all her strength. The ground fell away in leaping bounds. She rose up out of the shadow of the cliffs, back into the brilliant sunlight.

A piercing cry that hurt her ears. The form was back, hovering next to her. It was a gyrfalcon, silver wings glinting the same as the ocean waves.

“I’ll hold them off! Fly southeast, along the coast until you reach the marshes! Go!”

The shadows pressed closer. The gyrfalcon twisted and shot over her, striking one the menacing forms just as its claws raked her back. It shrieked, mouth gaping, talons flashing as the two of them grappled.

“Go!”

She obeyed and fled, leaving the mass of shrieks and feathers behind, darting down close to roofs. These gave way to fish huts, the smell of dead and drying fish cloying. She was gasping by the time she reached the dunes. But she dare not slow, no matter her muscles grew heavy and numb. The light faded and she pushed on.

The streets were empty with more than the falling dusk. Soldiers searched the streets and the citizens of Tamadin escaped indoors. Ero strode in their wake, kicking forgotten baskets, shoving past those too slow to clear the way.

“My lord!” One of his captains pointed to a listing roof line. A scrap of fabric fluttered in the evening breeze. Once retrieved, he gripped the silk until it burned his hands.

“No body, sir.”

“Find her,” he snarled. “Now!”

Protests sounded from the nearest house as soldiers kicked open the door.

“Whoever shelters her will be hung from the keep walls!” The noise quickly spread as the soldiers searched the streets, overturning seller’s stalls as they went.

Ero strode in their wake, seething. He jerked to a halt at the mouth of a narrow alley. Deep in the shadows stood three cloaked forms, hoods drawn ow over their faces.

“You lost her,” he accused. He held firm as their faces turned to him, unseen eyes on his skin. “I was promised!”

They did not speak, had never spoken. He sneered. “Find her!”

He stormed away and did not look back to see them rise above the eaves. They moved southeast over the city, smearing black against the falling night.

Night in the marsh was quiet, but not silent. Wind hissed through the reeds, taller than a man. Small animals moved in the shadows, streams gurgled. The trails were winding, an endless slough of grasses and water.

Rasiel moved confidently in the moonlight. She had been born on the edge of this marsh, spent her childhood skipping through its labyrinth. She listened keenly to the tiny noises of the night. Thanking them, she moved deep into reeds.

She heard the fluttering breaths of the kestrel before she found the poor creature tucked in a hollow of grass. She bent the grasses back and smiled. The tiny falcon slept, head under her wing, tiny shivers running over her body.

“Poor thing,” Rasiel murmured. The girl hardly stirred, only opening a dull eye. A feeble protest, the smallest cry. Rasiel hushed the exhausted girl and tucked her into a woven basket lined with goose down.

“Come along, little one.”

Vaeba woke with a start. She was trapped! Dark walls pressed close, knocking her limbs, catching her hair.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Vaeba cringed down. The voice boomed, the tone kind, but physically oppressive. The door opened. She cowered back, pressing against the rough walls.

A hand gripped her. She struggled, heart hammering against their palm.

“There, now. Hush, leawa.”

Her nails scrabbled uselessly. Her stomach swooped as they lowered her to the floor. She had been falling, she remembered, endless falling.

“It will take just a moment, my dear. Be brave.”

She couldn’t fight anymore, couldn’t fly anymore. She lay shivering on the hard floor, a rough mat of some kind scratching her cheek. She didn’t open her eyes as the light shifted, the soft glow of a candle muted by their shadow.

A gentle hand lifted her head. “Drink, my lady.” She didn’t resist as a cup poured cold water between her lips. She swallowed painfully, coughing as it stung in her throat.

“You’ve had quite the ordeal, lady.” Something warm was wrapped around her shoulders, the hand now firm as it lifted her to her feet. “Lay here.”

It was blessedly soft, smelling of smoke and sage. Vaeba huddled under the blankets.

“Sleep now, lady.”

Sallis looked up from his meal as Rasiel drew back the curtain. “Well?”

Rasiel snuffed the candle she carried. “Sleeping now.” The woman settled by the fire and looked up to him with bright eyes. “You did well today.”

Sallis grunted and returned to his stew. “Any sign of Ero or his men?”

Rasiel shook her head. Sallis was surprised. The girl’s trail had been easy to follow. Rasiel’s magic had smothered it in the slough, but it would lead them within ten miles of this place.

“The skies are clear,” Rasiel went on, dishing herself a bowl from the pot set to the side of the coals.

Sallis was not comforted by this. While Ero’s mages preferred the form of corvids, it was not the only guise they used to travel unnoticed. “I will move her at dawn.”

“She needs rest,” Rasiel said firmly. “She is exhausted, as you may imagine. Her first change, a flight of nearly a hundred miles. Who knows what horrors before you found her.”

The edge of his wooden spoon pressed sharp into this hand. He spoke harshly, “She needs to survive. Or her flight will have been for nothing.”

Rasiel huffed and muttered something under her breath. Sallis ignored her and stood. “I will check the sentries.”

“Try not to scare them half to death this time,” Rasiel called after him. “They’re only wee little wrens!”

Sallis strode the narrow passages of the cave system. He slowed as he neared a small alcove, a natural chamber further dug out to form a room of moderate size. He shifted the heavy hanging over the door.

A single candle burned with its flame carefully shielded by glass. The girl lay asleep on a cot, curled into a ball hardly visible beneath the pile of furs and blankets.

He let the curtain drop and moved on.

She was roused from a deep sleep. Gratefully, as it had been full of nightmares and chasing shadows. She blinked up at the pointed face of the woman.

“Up, now, little one.”

Vaeba sat up, keeping the blankets tight around her. “Where am I?”

“PLACE, lady. You are safe here, among friends.”

Vaeba drew back further. The rough stone wall pressed against her back. “Who are you?”

“I am Rasiel, lady. You may not remember, it was rather a traumatic thing.”

Vaeba recognized her voice. And her gentle hands. She allowed the woman to draw her to her feet.

“What am I doing here?”

Rasiel fussed around her, slipping a scratchy woolen shift over Vaeba’s head. “You were captured, kidnapped, by that pig, Ero of Tamadin.”

The name filled her empty stomach with icy dread. “Where is he?”

“Far from here, lady. A hundred miles distant.”

A hundred miles? How had she travelled so far? She recalled the wind, howling as she plummeted. The smell of seagrass and the chill of the marsh at night. She shivered and drew on the woolen trousers this Rasiel held out to her.

“Everything is a bit large, I’m afraid. Do they not feed you in that temple of yours?”

Vaeba bristled. “Why should I fill my belly when my people go hungry?”

Rasiel checked a moment, then spoke soothingly. “I meant no offense, lady. But, fill your belly this morning, you must. You have a long day of travel ahead of you. Sit, eat.”

Vaeba tied the last stay in place and settled on a wobbly stool. Rasiel pressed a bowl of warm grains on her, with berries and nuts mixed in. She added a dollop of honey to the top and Vaeba ate eagerly.

She watched silently as Rasiel prepared a travelling kit, tucking food and supplies into a small satchel. She added some herbs and an extra shawl. “For the chill nights, my dear.”

Vaeba finished her meal and set the bowl aside. “Where am I going?”

“That I can’t tell you.”

“Can’t, or won’t?”

Rasiel grinned at her. “Both, lady. Only Sallis knows.”

“Who is Sallis?”

Footsteps answered her question. Heavy steps, a man, wearing boots. The sound raised the hairs on her neck. Ero had the same step, the nails of his boots striking the flagstones of his keep.

The man who entered was nothing like the Lord of Tamadin. A dark man, with a thin face and quick, glinting eyes. He saw her and gave a short nod that might have been respectful.

“She ready?”

Rasiel buckled the satchel closed. “Yes.”

Another glancing look. “Come on, then.”

Vaeba stood but did not follow him as he turned away. “Who are you?” she demanded.

He stopped, half turned to the cave opening. “Sallis, of Ibith.”

Could it be true? Ibith was hundreds of miles away, across the mountains. Vaeba spoke calm, but firm. “Where do you plan to take me?”

“To PLACE,” the man said shortly.

“No,” Vaeba countered. “You will return me to Tamadin at once.”

He turned face her fully. “It is too dangerous for you there.”

“I must return to my people,” she insisted. “They are in danger. Ero is mad; he must be stopped.”

Sallis scowled. “I agree. But you are not fit challenger.”

“My people need me.”

“Alive.”

“What good is my safety when they starve in the streets?”

“Your presence will not fill their bellies, lady, any more than your Goddess will.”

She sniffed. A nonbeliever, she could see. Not just of her devotion, but any.

#fiction #original wip #my wips #writeblr

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ekbirchelps · 6 years

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Character Aesthetics Tag

Tagged by the thoughtful @owen-with-dashes. Thank you!

Rules: Bold what applies to your character. Feel free to add to the list!

True to form, I’m going to do Jael from Solstice Rising.

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. mist. frost. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. magic.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. ears. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. lithe.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. pyre. teeth. rifles.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. brick. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. poppies.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. eagles. owls. bears. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. crickets. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. rams. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. livestock. foxes. peacocks.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers. burritos. pizza. french fries. ambrosia.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. comic books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. exploring.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. sweater. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. duster. trenchcoat. hood. gloves. socks. masks. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. ties. uniform.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. late nights. early mornings. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. revenge.

Tagging @thewriterkatie, @creativityflows, and @taz-writes. Like I’ve said before, this isn’t obligatory. Good luck!

#tme #thanks for tagging me

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mitsunari · 8 years

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I am trying not to overthink when it comes to my story featuring Otabek, but I find that it is incredibly difficult to avoid when it comes to figuring out plots and angles and build-up, etc etc. I think of things and sometimes i come up with blanks when I try to take it out of my head and write it down, or I start writing and too much builds up which causes me to freeze and struggle to get started. (This is even with notes/outlines.)

But now I present Chapter 4 of the untitled “Otabek Meets A Dragon AU”. This includes some more morning routine, a flashback to how Katsuki Yuuri and Otabek meet, more business regarding the star. The next chapter will probably be from Yuuri’s POV and it will have our first look of Fantasy Animals!

Otabek speaks Russian to the Aral Sea but he can speak other languages with the same effect or say nothing at all. To perform magic, intent is key. Speaking is one of many ways of directing the spirit’s power out, and it also forms a path/a connection) for a spirit (or spirits) to act. A silent Otabek miiight be the most dangerous. ;)

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS one - two - three

CHAPTER 4 - OTABEK THE NEXT MORNING

Dawn did not mean Otabek’s valley had sunshine, for the sun had far to travel in the morning to give his side of the mountains light. He awoke in the dark and saw to the goats and Karazhal’s food before his own. As usual, it was time to do the patrol.

He pulled his long black hair into a low ponytail, tugging his fur cap on to keep the chill away. While he ate, he wrapped the art box in cloth and placed it near his saddle and gear at the doorway. The cooker was quenched but the fireplace coals could stay. Otabek carefully looked over the house to make sure nothing was out of place before he stepped out.

Swinging his saddle over one shoulder and carrying the rest of his belongings in the other arm, Otabek whistled for Karazhal to let her know they were off. He dropped his things by the gate he opened. The black mare swung her head up in his direction, trotting over and sideways so he could dump the saddle onto her back. Otabek knelt to secure every belt, pad, and rope. The frame fitted flat against Otabek’s back in a bag, and the metal box of art supplies sat on its side next to the wooden frame. Otabek laid an animal skin cover over the bag’s opening, belting it down tight as it could go. With one hand on her pommel, he mounted his horse, pulling her reins so he could lock the paddock.

The usual scout around the fenceline proved to be secure. He had Karazhal jump the driveway gate instead of unlocking it too. Gently pulling the reins, he directed her uphill, going up a deer trail. When the hill flattened out, Otabek inhaled deeply, feeling the mountain wind rush across the plateau. He reached out with a gloved hand to pat Karazhal’s thick neck. She snorted fondly, earning a chuckle from him.

His eyes moved past the horse to the mountainous terrain. He watched the ground for sight of other things. They could be friend or foe, and Otabek did not want to outrace a pack of wolves. Then, he checked up in the trees, this time for hunters and their supplies, like their food tied up high to fool bears or the perches built to hold snipers. The latter was rare. Hunting outside of the season was reported to the rangers by falcon. To date, he’d only found four dead while scouting. Otabek had never killed a man. Nature was not as merciful as Otabek.

At his land’s highest ridge, the grass became stone and crevice. Otabek stayed especially careful here. Karazhal’s hooves dislodged pebbles with each footprint. Suddenly, a gray shape whirled backward, dragging a half-eaten goat with it; Otabek could only glimpse the snow leopard--or “barys” as he knew it in Kazakh--before it darted into a den in the steep mountainside. He encouraged the mare to quicken over the ridge before they met any more predators.

He stood on the mountain edge using the antelope paths. The sun greeted him harshly, blinding Otabek with light across snow peaks and Big Almaty’s ice. He pulled his hat brim down, then paused, braving the sunlight for a chance to see that star even in daytime. Otabek wished he hadn’t broken his sunglasses, but whatever, he used his hand to shield what he could.

At the edge of their world, Yuuri’s new star shone just as it had last night. Otabek spotted an eagle wheeling around, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he reached with the spirit of animals. His head jerked back as the connection was met. Otabek lowered it toward his saddle pommel, remembering to breath carefully, especially in this thin air.

“Batir,” the eagle acknowledged him with the Kazakh word ‘hero’. “I see you.”

“And I, you,” Otabek responded with a respectful tone. Karazhal continued to tread carefully, as Otabek had considerably loosened his grip on the reins. “What else is to be seen?”

“Hare, I see. Silver fox, I see.” The eagle descended casually. “I could not fly over your large nests. Stink!” An annoyed squawk echoed from the bird.

“Our nests do not have feathers in them. We have many fires burning for warm nests,” Otabek said. It wasn’t his first time explaining cities.

“Gah!” The eagle clearly thought humans were crazy...utilizing a disaster for their nests! Shaking its head, it changed the subject, “Ah, Batir, I see the spotted ones together many nights!”

The snow leopards? “We passed one with prey earlier. Should I be worried?”

The eagle cocked its head, searching the ground in a broad sweep over Karazhal’s position. “I see none now. “ Suddenly, Otabek could feel a surge of killing instinct through him at the same time the eagle stooped and dove down to the ground. The predator might not have seen more snow leopards, but it’d certainly seen prey. Otabek shuddered from his hips up to his head, stretching his shoulders back until the illusionary feeling of feathers growing out of him went away. Sucking in a sharp breath, Otabek’s eyes opened, snapping out of the spiritual connection. The eagle was gone.

His mare pushed on relentlessly on drifts of hard-packed snow. Five times, Otabek dismounted and led her on foot across the terrain. The tall evergreens sang with the mountain wind, accompanied by birds and deer. Otabek hummed to himself to the beat of stones crunching underfoot. When he’d first been chosen, hearing nature wherever he went had been difficult to get used to, but over the years, it had become more bearable, almost natural now. Otabek hummed more than he sang--if he contributed at all--but this time he sang to keep his feet steady on the mountain, focusing on it instead of the edge.

“There was a field in my old town Where we always played hand in hand. The wind was gently touching the grass. We were so young, so fearless.”

As the Kazakh words finished slipping through his teeth, Otabek got back into the saddle, riding the steep pathway around the bowl. The ride took hours, long enough for the sun to fill the valley once he’d trotted through the last pass. Standing 2735m above sea level, the valley with Big Almaty Lake was a painting in itself, coated with glossy white snow contrasting greatly with the dark gray mountains and dark green trees. Ice partially covered the pale blue water which barely reached 8 C even on the hottest days. With its white roofs, the Observatory did not stand out much in the snow.

Karazhal picked up the pace at her master’s command. Otabek descended to another flat ridge and followed it for several kilometers, then urged her up some rocks up to the parking lot. He saw lots of tracks in the snow, mostly from trucks and cars pulling into parking spaces, but not as from tourists in this season. He urged his mare up to a green-roofed building with one large garage door open. As Otabek trotted by, horse hooves clapping loudly on concrete at the garage’s entrance instead of snow, he pulled up on a dark-haired man wearing a bright red coat decorated with golden threads. Phichit Chulanont, to Otabek’s surprise, had his arms were full with sandbags and salt bags. Otabek raised his eyebrows at the sight of him away from the computers just to carry salt.

“AH! Otabek!” Phichit called enthusiastically. “Welcome back!”

Otabek returned the greeting with a casual nod. “She’s good here?” He reached out to pat Karazhal’s mane.

“Of course!” The scientist struggled with the salt bag, but he managed to point. On the other side of the storage garage were horse stalls and a paddock. Since this was a tourist attraction for his country, there were places for horses to rest. He was familiar with the trail rides through the mountains. “The trough is frozen though, and bedding is on that end.” said Phichit, cocking his head off to the left. “I’ll wait up for you after I salt our walkways!” he called over his shoulder as he scurried off with the bags.

Otabek dismounted and had Karazhal stand in the garage while he made up a stall for her. For now, he kept the bridle on and pulled off the saddle, locking it up before turning her out. True to his word, Phichit jogged back up to him when they were both finished. They walked into the Observatory together looking like complete opposites. Phichit was a scientist in crisp black trousers and that gaudy red and gold shirt. Otabek, on the other hand, had traded in his modern clothes for traditional Kazakh furs once he was chosen as baksy, a shaman..

Compared to knowing Yuuri, Otabek’s paths hadn’t crossed with Phichit as much. When he’d met them, his first mission as a spirit shaman neared its destination: the Aralkum Desert, wound of the earth and Kazakhstan’s western border. Yuuri and Phichit were there for space reasons. Otabek had followed a dying eagle to a dying lake. Yuuri told Otabek that he’d mistaken Otabek’s flying white guide for some kind of glare in his glasses, but that the horse and rider suddenly appearing by their research van had definitely been real. The two men had been using mobile weather and space devices to capture footage out in that region. So far, it’d been just dust and wind, nobody but themselves and satellite radio on their phones. Otabek, who’d ridden from Almaty on horseback, was just as eager to partake in someone’s hospitality out in the middle of nowhere as they were.

In return for their kindness, Otabek told them tales of his adventures and the nature of his mission, for he was not bound by the spirits to keep his identity or strength hidden. (It just wasn’t like him to boast.) Otabek felt these weren’t his powers anyway. He was simply a conduit, and he’d demonstrated with the Warm Touch, same as he had last night, but this time with their forgotten coffees in their front console. Phichit brewed fresh tea while Yuuri stretched his legs outside with Otabek, tired of being cooped up in the van. They’d talked about space and everything in it. Otabek got a fire going by the time Phichit joined them. Yuuri launched into impassioned explanations for everything, face lighting more than just from the campfire, but Otabek liked that about the older man. Passion… such unbridled emotion… it was good for mankind to be free like that. By nightfall, as traded stories turned into sleepy “good night”s, Otabek was glad to call both of them his friends.

At dawn, Otabek mounted Karazhal and Yuuri called out to him from the driver’s side, rubbing his sleepy eyes before putting his glasses on.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay out there?” Yuuri called out with a fretful timbre.

“My duty awaits. I must go no matter what condition I’m in,” Otabek said. The desert stretched out for miles, yet somehow his pale robes were free of the choking dust. Pure air surrounded him, though he didn’t realize it then. Looking back on it, his ride away from Almaty was much of a blur. Otabek was certain it must’ve taken many days but like many things regarding the spirits, it felt just like a dream, too.

Seven years ago, Otabek had much shorter hair than he did now. He’d shaved ritually before approaching the desert, leaving the top short in an undercut style. It had been spring when he’d arrived at the Aral Sea’s former border. Long had the region awaited the season’s coming. It needed his healing. It needed the spirits of the earth to guide it out of suffering, and Otabek had answered its call.

To assure Yuuri that he would be safe, Otabek agreed that they could follow, as long as they prioritized their own safety. Yuuri drove the van. Phichit started recording from the passenger seat, which Otabek found out at the end. His black mare vaulted over the terrain with Yuuri in hot pursuit, yelling as the van did not take too well to the pebble-covered dirt. They stirred up a huge dust cloud behind them. Karazhal pushed up to her top speed. The van jerked right to stay on the flattest dirt. Otabek could hear Yuuri yelling in panicked Russian as the vehicle rattled over rocks and holes.

What happened afterward was an event taking place in two different ways in the eyes of two different parties. Otabek knew his own half, but when he watched the video on Phichit’s phone later, he witnessed how alien it was to view his spiritual power from an outsider’s perspective.

“Просыпа́йся, Ара́льское море!” (Wake, Aral Sea!) He remembered how his voice rang out with thunder and lightning, a show of force that startled even himself, yet Karazhal hadn’t shied one centimeter from her run. He remembered disembodied voices humming and singing. He released the reins at their urging, and his arms drew straight up, palms facing the sky. The power required to renew the massive lake swallowed Otabek whole. What he knew of his actions from that point onward was solely due to Phichit’s video.

To Phichit and Yuuri’s amazement, two brightly glowing staves sprung out from Otabek’s fingertips. The lines all undulated as one, and starry musical notes materialized into the Samarkand Overture. High in the air he urged the notes to rise. The staves circled him like floating ribbons. Fearful of his magic, Yuuri had called out to Otabek from the window when the wind began to pick up, but Phichit’s hand clutched his shoulder in the video, reassuring him.

There was a crackling roar, and the clouds gathered fast as steeds. What had been early morning reversed back into night under the burgeoning thunderclouds. Lightning leapt from cloud to cloud. The whole sky was pierced by blinding light, but although Yuuri’s van stood in empty desert, the lightning did not strike it. Rain fell in slow small droplets. The video even captured the humming of spirits over the rain and thunder, but what was the most marvelous of all were the animals that suddenly sprouted from the musical staves. Golden outlines of snow leopards, wolves, horses, eagles, and antelopes bloomed into flight. Each footprint upon the desertified landscape gushed a spring of golden light that spread fiercely once started. Transparent animals raced away from Otabek until the purifying glow stretched to the horizon.

“HOLY SHIT!” Phichit’s enthusiastic yell had struck a discordant note in the whole scene. The video had jostled a bunch until Phichit’s face appeared in the side, then panned to Yuuri’s gawking expression behind the rain-splattered window. “I hope I’m still recording!”

The astronomer’s phone had captured everything except a clear close-up of Otabek Altin’s face, but Phichit’s upload to Instagram went viral and the “mysterious rider” became the subject of Internet speculation. Otabek personally disliked social networking services and, while owning an instagram account, he never had the app on his old smartphone. He’d left Almaty without a phone since he had no way of charging it out in the wilderness. He would have never thought to film himself. He spent the journey across Kazakhstan completely oblivious to the cryptid role he was taking. Kazakhs tagged Phichit in blurry horse rider pictures from places like Pavlodar, Astana, and Karaganda, asking in Russian if “this was their man”. Phichit also received screenshots captioned “I trust him” or “monsoon season is coming”.

Back home in Almaty, Otabek’s siblings and mother immediately identified him after seeing Phichit’s recording online. Otabek returned from a year away to find his family interrogating him on his “cryptid status”. They had not forgiven him for leaving without technology to keep in touch. (Apparently sending spirits was not the preferable method.) Otabek continued his tried-and-true method of ignoring social media, made all the easier by having no electricity out in the wilderness.

However, that isolation in nature that Otabek required, both to perform his duties in nature and harbor the spirits of earth well, meant that he spent many hours doing business and not seeing family and friends over the mountains for weeks or years. Reuniting with Yuuri two years after the video went viral happened because of an earthquake in Almaty. They saw each other again a few years after that, when Yuuri had gotten promoted in the Observatory and spotted a comet in his new telescope, and Otabek had seen the comet too from the other side of the mountain. Phichit had been in the United States then so they’d missed each other once again. He had changed only a little in Otabek’s eyes.

The astronomer looked Otabek up and down as if examining him as well.

“Your pony is sturdy! She looks even better than she did last time,” Phichit remarked, thumbing at the horse.

Otabek nodded with a small smile at Phichit’s sincerity. “Thanks.” He followed him to the entrance, feet crunching over salt.

“How come you took the long way around? Did you get another dream?” Phichit asked. “Is it another earthquake?”

Otabek shook his head. The last quake alert had been a month ago, perfectly unthreatening. “No,” he said. “I wanted to patrol the whole range this time.” He paused, looking over his shoulder at the fur-lined bag. “Duty and all.”

Phichit swiped his ID card and let Otabek inside the employee-authorized building. “Ah, well, it’s good to see you! You know you’re always welcome here, Hero.” Phichit grinned, teasingly nudging Otabek in the arm. “I’ll get you tea.”

“Much obliged,” Otabek replied to his host.

While Phichit flounced down the white hall for tea, Otabek walked slower, stepping into a room practically lined with windows, including a round one in the ceiling. There were many of these around the observatory, but this one had fewer tourists, being in the employee’s end and all. The room had a heavy wooden table in the middle with chairs all around, as well as shelves filled with books and pamphlets lining the walls. The windows boasted a beautiful view of the mountains circling the plateau.

Struck by inspiration, Otabek quickly set his bag on a chair, putting away his gloves in exchange for the small sketchpad and pencil in the artbox. He sketched lines for mountains and trees, marching deep shadows out of the graphite and leaving empty space for snow and clouds. His dirty thumb rubbed on the paper for the sky. In the middle, he darkened the paper in jagged edges and erased for even sharper edges, accentuating the strange star’s brightness in his picture. For once, Otabek did not stop to pause after each stroke. He drew as a man possessed and was so focused, he didn’t hear Phichit calling his name.

“Hey!” Phichit’s face suddenly appeared next to him. “That’s good!” He pointed at Otabek’s rendition of the mountains around Big Almaty Lake. “Wow, you were really tuned in. I brought you tea!”

The Kazakh looked down at what he’d drawn and his eyes widened. He stared down at the sketchpad, pulling his hands away and thinking, This is what I drew? The shadows of the mountains and the dark treetops seemed to form the shape of some winged animal. The star’s beams radiated down upon the peaks, as if upon the beast hidden in the picture. He blinked and it disappeared, and Otabek questioned his own brain for a second.

Gratefully, he took Phichit’s offered mug and thanked him, blinking several times down at the paper.

“Hey, hey, do you think I could snap a photo of it?” Phichit asked.

Otabek shrugged, handing the sketchpad off and contenting himself with the tea instead. Between the heaters and the sunshine coming through all the windows, it was quite warm. Otabek relaxed against the chair. He did not freely invite conversation, but whenever the man asked a question, he answered. Phichit refilled his empty mug once he was finished with the first, then he handed back the sketchbook. Otabek opened it up to the page he’d been on.

“Is Katsuki Yuuri busy today?” he asked without looking at Phichit.

“Hahaha, I beat him in janken so I’m off today while he’s assigned on two sessions of tour groups,” Phichit laughed. “But afterward he’s doing field work. Of course, you’re more than welcome to hang out in the observatory until he comes back. I’m sure you’ve stiffened in the saddle, so stay and warm up, okay?” He patted Otabek’s shoulder kindly.

“I am content to wait,” Otabek replied. He stood up and walked over to one of the bookshelves. Russian books and journals of science lined the bottom two rows, then two rows of English with three German books squeezed in the end. The Kazakh writers took the top two rows. “May I read something?”

“Those? Hah! They’ll bore you to death, but sure. I’ll let you sign on as a guest on my laptop if you’d rather read modern.” Phichit pointed to the messenger bag sitting in a chair next to him.

“Really? Thanks. No newspaper delivers out of Almaty,” Otabek lamented. He rejoined Phichit at the table while the man pulled out the laptop. Phichit signed in under Guest and swiveled the computer once the laptop chimed its logging in ping.

“Do you remember how to type?” Phichit joked. Otabek gave him a deadpan expression and mimed bashing his fists on the keys like a caveman, which caused Phichit to plead dramatically for his laptop’s life then burst into laughter. “Oh, lemme make sure this account knows the WiFi password.” He looked over all the settings until he was satisfied. Phichit sat down to find the battery in the bag.

Otabek fired up Chrome, checking his sorely neglected email and sending one to his sisters since he hadn’t been in Almaty for a week. Without a mailbox, he just relied on animals, like cats or falcons, to drop off the weekly letters to his parents’ house. An email would be a welcome surprise. He wrote about the star, of course, and updated them on what was new in his life. While he never took photographs of what he worked with, Otabek always included a doodle of the creatures in his care that week. He told Phichit this when the man asked about his family.

“Why did you come to Kazakhstan again?” Otabek asked. He continued to type.

“Ah, well, back then, we were assigned as part of a college thing, to look at the Soyuz and a bunch of other things, but we ended up liking it so we came back different times. Yuuri and I love to travel so it’s nice to work in a place so marvelous, no?” Phichit stretched out his hands. “Yes, it’s cold but ah, the Snapchats make up for it!” He blinked with sudden realization. “Hey! What if I uploaded the picture here?” Otabek frowned. “Okay, not online,” Phichit quickly added. “But to the email you’re sending?”

Otabek’s expression softened. “I’m not against you having one for your personal phone, but I am deleting it from the computer afterward.” Phichit copied down his email address into his smartphone and sent the attachment. Otabek saved it from the freshly received email, uploaded it to his, and typed in Kazakh:

P.S. A scientist from the observatory took this picture of my artwork. Please keep it safe since you don’t have a physical copy this time.

For once, he was more than fond of this drawing. Otabek liked it when his practice had some sort of tangibility to it.

He sent off the email before deleting the saved picture, even out of the Recycle Bin. With that done, Otabek contented himself with reading news again while he waited for Yuuri to come back.

#My Writings #Otabek Altin #Phichit Chulanont #yuri on ice #Katsuki Yuuri

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