[indent][indent][center][color=#808080][i]It began with an absence.[/i][/color]
[i][color=#808080]The eerie, consuming kind.[/color][/i]
[color=#808080][i]There was no warning. There was no voice. There was no cold breath in her ear. [/i][/color]
[i][color=#808080]All it was, all it would be, was her world vanishing beneath her feet. [/color][/i][/center]

[i][color=#808080]A blink, and reality reconfigured. Her eyes opened onto a boundless plain of perfectly still water, its surface a tarnished mirror to a sky bleached of all hue. In every direction, the horizon had been erased, leaving no distinction between the heavens and the abyss. There was only the pale, infinite reflection and the low, frantic rhythm of her own heart, a sound that seemed to travel not through air but through the very substance of this place.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]Every breath was a struggle, a heavy, stolen thing that burned in her chest as if the atmosphere itself resisted her existence.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]Then, a disturbance marred the perfect reflection below.[/color][/i]
[color=#808080][i]At first, she assumed it was her own form wavering, that strange, dream-logic instability where the body becomes a fleeting suggestion. But the figure taking shape in the depths was not her own.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]It was him.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]He lay suspended just beneath the glassy divide, adrift in a calm, azure-tinged void as though dreaming at the bottom of creation. Strands of his hair drifted like dark smoke in a gentle current. His form was completely motionless yet not devoid of life; rather, a terrifying serenity seemed to hold him in its grasp. His expression was untroubled, his features relaxed into a peace so profound it felt like a prelude to oblivion. He was, she realized with a jolt of dread, dangerously at ease.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]The sight tore at a fundamental part of her soul.[/color][/i]
[color=#808080][i]Her hand flew to the water’s surface, palm flattening against it, expecting to feel a liquid yield. Instead, it met the cold resistance of stone, a flawless barrier sealing her above while he remained trapped below in the deep.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]Through the impossible, crystalline medium, she could see him with painful clarity: the individual lashes dusting his cheeks, the soft, untroubled curve of his lips. And it was this, his total placidity, that unleashed a pure, undiluted terror within her.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]Driven by a surge of panic, she hammered her fist against the solid surface. The impact sent a jarring vibration shivering up her arm.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]The barrier did not fracture. It did not even tremble.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]A scream was ripped from her throat, a raw sound of desperation. But as it left her lips, the strange physics of this place seized it, warping and stretching the cry into a distorted echo that was…[/i][/color]
 
[color=#808080].̸̡̜͍̯̞͆.̵̪̟̻̯̰̩͍́̄̾́̃̅͠.̶̛̗͖̞̖̝̭̤͚͋̔̋̓̚b̸̧̥̩̺̺͘͜o̸̧̗̭͇̻͆͋̽ţ̵͖̤̭͉̣͉̩̞͛̃̄̾̚h̵̨͖͚̰̪͋̈́̔̉͊͆̐͐̔̌ ̴̡̡̩̺͇̞̲̟̤̒͆͊̿̎͘͜h̴̨̭̹͚̙͛͛̿̀̊̽͘͝é̸͈̣̪̦̄͠r̷͔̣̒̆͌̂͘̕̕ ̸̪̔̄͒̐͐̄̊̓͝ớ̵͈̙̦͒͌̊̕͘̚͘͝w̸̛̜̗̐̈́͌̃̓͑̿͗ͅn̴̺̱͚̱̏̇̉͜͜,̶̩̘͍̜̣̺̞͍͙̝͒́̓̉͋͂̓͠͠ ̸̩͎̑̈́͋̐̒͆͊͊͘[/color][table][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/CLFBNPFc/cries-if-you-don-t-work.gif[/img][/center][i][right][color=#808080]ă̷͖͙̖̪͔̱̘͍͐̉n̷̡͈͇̦̒͆d̷̰͕͕͈̠̦̉̀ ̴̨̡̣͚̣̘̻̗͒̀͛̇̊͒s̷̡̳̟̓̿o̶̳̰̬̤̟͂͑̍̅̎̓̂͆̓͘͜m̷̡̡̜͚̠͍̩̠̦͌̑͐ͅe̵̱̠̙͠t̷̨̲̦̪̺͖̮̼̮͕̍̒̚ḩ̶̲̤͕͙͈͕̪͕̔͐̽̑͂̂̈́̂ī̶̢̢̡̬͖͉̺̋̈̈͒͗̉͌̈͝n̸̢̰̦̑g̵̤̼͖͎͆̄̈́̓̽́͝͝͠ ̴̞̗̠̜̘͂̾͋̚̚͠e̷̡͔͖̼͔̹̖̺̓͌ͅl̴̞͓̦͓̥̟̣͍̀̈́ͅs̸̨̩̭̱̫͔̝͚̜̓̎͛̂͋̿̑̇̉͊ȇ̷̢̯̗͈̐̔̃̔͒̚ ̴̭̖̦̳̝͗͒͛ȩ̸̬͉̯̻̥͉͑̓͑̍̓̕͠n̶̺̼̥̪̙̪͌ẗ̸̡̖̪̳̭̝͍̩̗́͐̈́̔̓ì̸̱͚̲̰̳̒ͅŕ̴̟̭̼̖̤̞̂̂̑̽̇ͅe̶̗͉̗̾͛͌̀̓l̸͔̣̜͚̞̒̊͒͛́̚y̵̧̺͎͚͖͚̎̔̏̔̀̉̃͠͝.̸̢̛̠͔̘̹̪̇̅̑́̆̃͑[/color][/right][/i][/table]

[i][color=#808080]Her cry faded into the void, swallowed by the immense stillness until the quiet itself became a deafening roar in her ears.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]Then, a single heartbeat. [/i][/color]
[i][color=#808080]It was not her own. It was a colossal, subterranean thud that vibrated through the soles of her feet, sending concentric rings pulsing across the vast, mirror-like surface. In response, the featureless sky began to bruise, a deep, inky blackness bleeding across the firmament until it swallowed the reflection below, erasing her own image from the water. The world was being unmade. The plane beneath her feet began to thrum with a slow, rhythmic cadence, a living drumbeat that resonated in her bones. It was a call. It was an invitation. It was a demand from the deep that pulled at her very core.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]She never decided to leap. There was no conscious choice, only a sudden, overwhelming compulsion. The memory of breaking the surface was lost to the shock of the cold, a pain so clear and so immediate it felt like a shower of crystalline needles piercing her skin.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]Her descent was a struggle against an unseen weight, each movement of her arms and legs labouring as if the water had thickened to syrup. A gravitational pull from the abyss below fought her for every inch while, in the immense blue void, River’s form served as her sole landmark. She fixed her eyes on him, though the space between them seemed to warp, stretching into an impossible distance one moment and collapsing the next.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]When her fingertips finally brushed against his arm, the jolt of relief it caused was instantly extinguished by a new dread. His eyes remained shut, his expression one of undisturbed slumber. Yet, his lips were moving, forming a silent, incomprehensible word. The only sound was a stream of bubbles that escaped them, one or two detonating with a soft, startling [/i][/color][color=#808080]pop[/color][color=#808080][i] against her skin.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]Then, he exhaled a final, surrendering release. A last few tiny, silver bubbles fled from his lips and rose, swirling past her cheeks like a scattered constellation fleeing into the oppressive darkness above.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]Desperation seized her. She grabbed his wrist, her fingers tightening, and kicked hard against the water, trying to haul him toward the vanished surface. But the current around him solidified, becoming a viscous, resisting force that clung to him, pulling him back into the depths. The more she fought, the more her muscles shrieked in protest. A burning ache bloomed in her chest, her lungs screaming for a breath she had not taken since entering this nightmare.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]Just as her strength began to fail, the very nature of the water transformed.[/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]It was no longer a medium she moved through, but one that moved through her. The knife-sharp cold melted into a warmth both tender and profane. It felt like a fever from the inside out, a stolen heat that wormed its way beneath her skin, threading through her veins and claiming her from the inside. The sea was no longer an element; it was a sentient, breathing entity, and she could feel its vast, ancient attention fixed upon her. A wordless whisper travelled through the current, vibrating in her marrow.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]And then there was light. [/color][/i]

[color=#808080][i]A soft, silver-blue luminescence kindled in the darkness, gathered over River’s heart. For a wild moment, she thought it was him; a sign of life, his heartbeat made visible, a guiding star in the deep. The light pulsed once, a gentle rhythm that offered a fleeting hope.[/i][/color]

[i][color=#808080]But with the next, slower pulse, understanding dawned, cold and horrific. The light was not emanating [/color][/i][color=#808080]from[/color][i][color=#808080] him. It was being [/color][/i][color=#808080]drawn[/color][i][color=#808080] out, a synoeciosis of creation and undoing, of love that took as it gave. Each faint beat pulled the luminescence from his chest, the silver-blue dimming as it left him and deepening into violet before vanishing altogether into the hungry dark. And as the light was drained, the darkness around her grew absolute, the edges of her vision dissolving as if the very essence of the light, and of him, was being consumed[/color][/i]


[table]                            [right][sub][color=#808080][i]by her until[/i][/color][/sub][/right]


[center][color=#808080]...[/color][/center]


[i][color=#808080][center] The light went out. The water stilled. 
And in the end, there was only the absence.[/center] [/color][/i][/table][/indent][/indent][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/NxE57rH.jpeg[/img][/center][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/9qIY4OK.jpeg[/img][/center][right][sup][color=#a9c9eb][b]#a9c9eb[/b][/color][color=2e2c2c]...[/color]|[color=2e2c2c]...[/color][url=https://i.pinimg.com/1200x/9e/d6/ba/9ed6ba913739602155ea7b1ec41975d3.jpg][color=9b9b9b][b]outfit[/b][/color][/url][/sup][/right]

[indent][indent][color=#808080]The scrape of the brush against the mare’s flank was the only sound in the stable — [/color][color=#808080][i]shhh, pause, shhh[/i][/color][color=#808080] — like waves returning to shore. The horse’s hide gleamed under the soft light filtering through the rafters, her breath visible in the chill of early morning. Maylisse worked in silence, the sort of silence that wasn’t empty but honed in such a way that was well enough to think in and well enough to keep the world at bay. The mare shifted slightly beneath her touch, her muscles rippling beneath the glossy coat as the young woman worked. The motion of the brush appeared to soothe both her and the animal, a shared moment of companionship with her fingers tracing the curve of the animal’s shoulder, feeling for any knots or tight spots in her flesh.[/color]

[color=#808080]She had arrived at Camp Athens just before dawn, when the party’s bonfire had long died down and the snow outside still glittered with faint traces of footsteps leading nowhere. She had required no guide, finding her way instead by the magical pamphlet in her coat pocket that had given her a cabin of her own. Yet, as she’d crossed the boundary of the place, the very air had seemed to shift around her as if the camp had been anticipating her arrival and chose to mark it in the same way the sea announces a coming squall: a sudden, palpable change in pressure. She supposed it was fitting. If the god of the oceans could make his presence known without warning, why shouldn't his children?[/color]

[color=#808080]By the time the rest of the camp began to stir, Maylisse had already located the stables, the only such structure indicated on her map. It was a modest building by any measure, but the mingled scents of cedar and sea salt made it tolerable, even familiar. There was something in the presence of the horses that resonated with a part of her soul. Not with the memory of London since she had long since abandoned the pretense that the city was her home, but with something deeper and more primal in her bloodline, a heritage that answered only to instinct and absolute command. These animals, she felt, were born to both obey and to run untamed; they were beautiful because they understood their place in the natural order and, unlike mortals, never felt the need to argue against it.[/color]

[color=#808080]The mare standing patiently beneath her brush—a dappled grey creature with a striking streak of silver running down her muzzle—let out a soft snort as Maylisse’s gloved hand stilled mid-stroke. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“Easy now,” [/color][color=#808080]she murmured, the crisp, clipped vowels of a London accent still discernible though softened by time and disuse. [/color][color=#a9c9eb]“You’re perfectly fine here with me.”[/color]

[color=#808080]The horse blinked, its dark eyes intelligent and calm, its nostrils flaring once more before it settled again. Animals possessed an innate understanding of power in its subtlest forms. They neither flattered nor second-guessed; they simply[/color][i][color=#808080] knew[/color][/i][color=#808080]. It was for this uncomplicated honesty that Maylisse preferred their company. Her fingers resumed their work, the bristles soon catching on a small, stubborn burr tangled deep within the mare's mane. She clicked her tongue in disapproval. [/color]

[color=#a9c9eb]“Now, who brought that one in, hmm?”[/color][color=#808080] she asked the creature, her tone one of gentle chiding. The mare responded with another puff of warm air, which Maylisse interpreted as a resigned, [/color][i][color=#808080]‘Trust me, sis, you don’t want to know.’ [/color][/i][color=#808080]She worked the last of the pesky knot free with a careful tug, the plant finally releasing its grip. The mare’s ear twitched forward, then back, a minute signal that felt like a shared victory.[/color]

[color=#808080]Her coat was draped with care over the stall door, the dark wool still damp in patches where the morning frost had melted into beads of water. Sleep had been a futile pursuit after the long ferry crossing, leaving her with hours to fill in the predawn quiet. She had chosen the sea route deliberately; it felt appropriate to let the currents deliver her to this place, to arrive under the aegis of the one force that had never deceived her. Now, of course, a flight would have been simpler, swifter, and far more in keeping with a childhood spent in penthouses and the backseats of luxury cars. Yet it would have been a betrayal of her true nature. The sky belonged to Zeus. The deep, however, was her father’s domain, and it was truthful in its brutality. It asked for endurance, for patience, for reverence. It was a constant lesson that true strength was not found in speed or spectacle, but in the vast, unseen, and relentless pressure of the abyss.[/color]

[color=#808080]Throughout the journey, a single, circular thought had plagued her: [/color][i][color=#808080]He truly believes he can lead them.[/color][/i][color=#808080] River. Her half-brother. Her father’s newest venture into... what, precisely? Redemption? Governance? A divine test to see if a god's son could mimic humanity well enough to command it? Poseidon had offered no explanation, but then, he never did. He didn't have to. The message was clear in the appointment itself: River was to be everything Maylisse was not, which was amicable, moderate, and the kind of figure mortals and demigods alike could comfortably follow. It was a carefully staged production, designed by their father to cast the rest of his progeny as the villains in River’s heroic narrative. [/color]

[color=#808080]Or…at least that’s what she believed. [/color]

[color=#808080]He was the leader of a camp he likely never wanted, just as none of them had asked for the tempestuous force that coursed through their very blood. That was the cruel punchline of their existence: to be bestowed a blessing that always felt like a curse. Mortals romanticized it as a “legacy” or a “calling,” but Maylisse understood the truth. Their power was a chain as much as a birthright, a leash held by a distant father who had never demonstrated compassion, only an expectation of absolute control.[/color]

[color=#808080]She had witnessed firsthand what passed for Poseidon’s devotion in those foolish enough to confuse it with paternal warmth. He did not raise his children; he tempered them with the relentless hammer of his will and the grinding tide of his demands until they either conformed or shattered. And perhaps River had simply proven more pliable than the rest. Perhaps that was the quality their father valued most: a commander who would follow orders, who would reflect the ocean’s grandeur without ever daring to question its storms. A sovereign sculpted from sea foam and submission. How [/color][color=#808080][i]rank.[/i][/color]

[color=#808080]She pictured him now, this brother she barely knew, attempting to rally a gathering of divine orphans and fractured souls as if benevolence alone could bind them. He would address them, she imagined, with placidness to pacify them, direct them, and win their devotion. The notion was almost amusing, though Maylisse found the brush slowing in her hand once more at the thought.[/color]

[color=#808080]The mare stirred, issuing a soft huff as it detected the sudden tension in Maylisse’s touch. Her father would name that a flaw, allowing sentiment, this simmering [/color][i][color=#808080]resentment [/color][/i][color=#808080]for a stranger who shared her blood, to unsettle her so visibly. She set the brush aside and pressed her bare palm against the animal’s neck, feeling the steady, vital drumbeat beneath the solid warmth of its body. Alive. Present. Offering a fidelity people were incapable of. She coveted that, as well. Creatures like this did not concern themselves with lineage or celestial politics; they simply responded to sheer authority. The mare accepted what she was without judgment, while Maylisse had wasted years performing as something she was not. The reality was far more fundamental: she was a force, untamed and relentless, that could never be fully subdued.[/color]

[color=#808080]The mare’s head lifted abruptly, then, ears swivelling toward the entrance a moment before the heavy door groaned on its hinges. The sound was a rough complaint of wood and metal, insignificant in the grand scheme, but in the hushed sanctuary of the stable, it was an intrusion of seismic proportion until—[/color]

[color=#5a3e85]“Oh…I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be in here.”[/color]
[/indent][/indent][hr][sub][color=9b9b9b][b][i]Location: Stables 
Interactions: Anissa
Mentions: River[/i][/b][/color][/sub]