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Tim the Yeti
Fetzen
Crusader Lord
Enzayne
Timemaster
King of Rats
Jamesyco
Dark Cloud
Eviledd1984Mud & Hooves
Fear.
A howling beast tore into one of the herd!
FLEE!
Swiftly the horses fled, sprinting across the grasslands, until those lands grew red and the grasses tall. Adrenaline pumped and hooves tore the ground into distance. Yet here there was no safety to be found. From the skies more predators dove, skewering one who was not as swift before sucking dry another who had grown tired.
Run.
RUN.
They continued to run until all was red, all dripped with blood, as along the Mire they went. How far? How much longer did they need to run to ensure they could rest? Frothing and foaming at the mouth they continued to sprint, even as the red grew thick- bloodied mud caking their hides and hooves- and even still as the weight of it began to grow. Another horse collapsed, unable to compensate for being off balance, so caked in mud and blood.
With strength and speed the last few ran onward, for these horses were not fearful of crossing rivers if it meant surviving another day, and the depth of the redness gave them no pause.
Forward, forward, and further still, for every river had its end, and there must be land on the other side- this red was heavy and the murk beneath it was thick and treacherous- one of the shorter horses disappeared beneath it. Another whinnied and tried to turn back, growing far too tired to continue, before its heart simply gave out from the force of the strain.
“...free…. Free. Forward. Must run. Go. Not die. Must be free. Need. Need…” yearned the horse at the front of the last three. It tossed its head and neck, ears pinned back, as the blood grew deeper still. Fighting against the end, fighting forward still, the horses called out for freedom, in the way that only a trapped animal could.
One gave in to the despair of such a hopeless sprint forward- such a hopeless striving and yearning- what was the point? To survive and be hunted once more? Halting, the horse inhaled only blood, and was claimed by the Mire.
Two left, they continued fighting forward, despite how deep into the Bloodmire they’d gone- despite how hopeless they should have been- these simple minded horses were even more simple than most, yet that was the root of their bravery, their yearning.
Together, the two’s only thoughts were of the freedom of the winds- to survive another day- to run again across the grasslands. Their need combined, such yearning coalesced, and there as their lungs burned with fear and strain, they formed a singular prayer with pure willpower and feelings alone, which neither could comprehend.
And that prayer was answered.
Myrtu appeared.
Levitating above the two horses, with their wings outstretched and sparkling, as sheets of ice shed from their body with every motion, the Unicorn Divinity thrust their horn toward the sky and, by their will, the two horses began to levitate from the Bloodmire’s depths.
As the first emerged from the blood Myrtu heaved a deep sigh, as wound around the horse’s body, was the scaly length of a finned serpent. This creature of the Bloodmire had found a meal, indeed. With some fascination, Myrtu observed that the serpent's head was fully buried within the horse’s side, despite the creature still living and thrashing about, as if it weren’t in pain. Gently, Myrtu lowered them back into the mire, for nature had already begun its course. They lifted the final horse high above the Bloodmire.
A pulse of divine light radiated from this horse, the last of its herd, as Myrtu cleared away the residual blood and muck from its body, revealing the fur as black as night.. The Horse and Myrtu locked eyes as they levitated midair.
A beat of silence passed as Myrtu took in the horse’s only will: to be free and run.
So in an instant, the two were transported to the shore of the Bloodmire, where the grass met the land, and the horse was placed upon its hooves once more.
Immediately it collapsed.
Myrtu stared down at it with yet another deep sigh.
Something else could be seen out in the ocean of grass, if one just so happened to look. A flicker of movement, a pale figure coming in with the wind, obscured by the shoulder length grass(at least for a horse). It was no creature that walked upon hooves or galloped with four legs but an elf. One caked with dry blood, a stark contrast to the white she radiated. For it was a female, that much was certain as she drew close, head fixed upon the ground as a maroon ribbon trailing in the wind towards Myrtu, placed over her eyes. Like twin birds, unable to escape the ground or she who they were wrapped too.
She came ever nearer, unknowing or uncaring. Oblivious or perhaps ignorant. The wind gusted and the horse gave a weak neigh as the sickening sweet smell of metallic rust washed over them. Far stronger than the Mire. But the woman paid no heed and was nearly upon them.
For a quiet moment, Myrtu gazed at the woman, noting the features and the smell- that pungent and rusty aroma. Shaking their mane about, Myrtu decided to speak then, a single word to let the blindfolded woman know she was not alone. In their voice without sound, which came not from their mouth but from their mind, Myrtu projected the word forward so that it could be heard aloud, “Greetings.” Immediately, Myrtu wondered what Divines looked like to those who were blind- could they be felt by some other means? Already distracted, their eyes swirled with colors the blindfolded woman could not see, as they mulled the question over.
Nearby, the horse lay on its side listlessly, heaving breaths of exhaustion so heavily it was a wonder that it still clung to life.
She visibly jumped, coming to a pause and looked at them, not just in their direction, before looking away, to the other horse. The wind died down to reveal the last prominent feature upon her stained face; pointed ears. An elf maiden she was.
"H-Hello?" She asked, trembling, holding herself. "W-Who's there?"
A hesitant pause lingered as Myrtu considered how to answer that question. Rather deliberately, Myrtu had not told their name to those people they'd created. Sure, those mortals had likely asked the Umbra within their groups for the names of Gods, but there was a hope that Myrtu's name would fade from mortal memory in time. What they didn't need was a renewal of such memory by giving the name out carelessly.
So to this elf maiden, pale and caked in blood, whose eyes were blind to the world, Myrtu told her, "Two horses." It wasn't entirely a lie but it was definitely an understatement. Of Myrtu, there would never be an accusation of cleverness.
They immediately changed the subject, "Art thou aware that this is a place most sanguine?"
She lifted up her arms and outstretched them, gaze distant. "I am a-aware. Two horses, you said. S-Say, are you one of my kin? Perhaps a h-horseman? You carry the voice of s-someone tall." Her arms drooped back to her sides.
Tall might have been an understatement as well, as Myrtu was easily towering over even what a Centaur would stand at. Another moment of hesitation before they asked, "Seeking assistance?" Myrtu turned their gaze toward the exhausted horse, which began to shift its weight back and forth, in a weary struggle to right its position. Quietly, Myrtu moved to help it, telling the elf, "Surely thou hast not strayed so far from thy people, so as to become lost in such a place?"
She shook her head. "I have no people." She was beginning to shake less and her speech no longer stuttered. "Not many come here. It's quiet and safe. Why have you come here? I hear one breathing with such exhaustion, it pains me. Is everything alright?" She said, clasping her chest as she took a step forward.
Myrtu let out a gentle breath, "Alone? Here?" Then in answer, they responded honestly, "The situation is dire. Mine companion doth fight for their life- yet, tis in not giving up nor surrendering to hopelessness, that allows it to continue to do so." As they spoke, the Horse, using Myrtu as a wall to push against, fought to climb to its hooves again.
"This is a place most unsuited for them," Myrtu continued, "And doubtlessly shall its death, by the creatures which call this place home, be forthcoming." Their words ended on a rather thoughtful note.
She looked past Myrtu and at the ominous haze of the red swamp beyond. "It's true. Many predators call the mire home, who thrive upon the essence of others to sate their appetites. But it's good," a dazzling smile came from her lips. "Hope. It keeps us alive in uncertain times. When we regret our decisions of late. We must strive forward, even now, as your companion demonstrates." A thoughtful look came over her and she shifted slightly as if in deep thought.
Quietly, Myrtu again levitated the horse into the air, if only to alleviate its strain slightly. "To survive in such a place as this… hope is necessary but not enough," Myrtu shook their mane about then, as they told the elf, "Tell me, how is it that thy steps alone, tread the ground here? How is it that alone, you survive? Would it not be advantageous to have another by thy side? Or better to fly?"
Hoofless creatures, as slow and weak as they were, should at least have creatures with hooves that they could call friend and companion both- this was an undeniable fact that Myrtu knew as truth. And so it was that Myrtu began to contemplate what a creature of hooves required to survive here- to thrive here. As they stared at the horse, whose disposition bordered on content as it levitated by their will, Myrtu's eyes swirled rapidly with innumerable colors, as potentials and possibilities flooded in, and the ideas became innumerable.
"I have learned to see without seeing." She said, standing a bit straighter. "I survive alone because it is necessary. I… Can be difficult for others." She rubbed her arm and then continued, "They would come to see me for what I truly am and this part of me cannot bear the thought. So no. Another by my side, even if they could fly, even if they could take me someplace far, far away… Would not be better." Her voice grew solemn.
"How do you know?" Myrtu tilted their head side to side as the concept settled in.
"If ever you were to trust a stranger's words wholeheartedly, met by chance in such a place as this, now would be the time, dear Two horses." Her voice carried the tone of regret muddied with sadness.
Such a sorrowful voice and unspoken regret caused Myrtu to bow their head slightly. Their next question came heavy with meaning, heavy in the concept of the words themselves. Gently, Myrtu asked of her, "But.. Have ye hope?"
She was silent for a time, pondering their heavy words with a blank look. After a time, she nodded as a wistful smile blessed her lips. "Of course. It keeps one going."
"Then…" spoke Myrtu, their glow intensifying, "I would ask that hope be extended now, as the hand which grants clemency to the hopeless- unto thyself, give such hope."
Violently, Myrtu thrust their horn forward, into the side of the floating horse. Without a sound of pain, the horse's form shifted in an instant-
What would it take to survive?
Fur shed from the horse’s hide. Sizzling, the old skin sloughed off, as a new and thicker hide grew in- black and with a metallic sheen- a hide naturally armored to withstand the multitude of rending bites and piercing claws of the Bloodmire's various creatures. Sharpened spines of raw and pure iron- condensed from the overwhelming amounts of iron present in the blood- sprouted as dual horns that were as curved and sharpened daggers, from atop the horse's snout and forehead.
From its strong back sprouted wings, wide and leathery, so that it may fly swiftly, silently, and with great agility through the skies, with maneuverability unmatched by lesser winged creatures. Its hooves fell off as new hooves grew in behind them, with divinely blessed speed. They were replaced by hooves grown of the same iron as its horns. These hooves, sharpened and spiked, with a forward facing vertical curved blade, would serve well in ripping apart enemies from a skyward ambush.
Though this transformation rendered the beast blind, the horse's skull and head reshaped in its configuration slightly, as such blindness was deliberate. Myrtu wanted a creature that would understand its companion and a companion that would understand it just the same- and there was a need to honor the elf maiden, for her inspiration in the creation of the new horse, as well. Its skull grew bony crests, peaks, spikes and horns, as hollow organs to grant it a sharper perception of sound, from a multitude of pitches, angles, and ranges. Even as the horse let out a whinny, the sound of its vocalizations came out as shrill clicks and cries- for now it saw a world without eyes- a world of ultrasound and echo.
The opening of the horse's mouth, as it went to let out its shrill cries, revealed the most important change Myrtu deemed it necessary to have.
From nose to jaw the horse's mouth opened fully along its length, far more so than a typical horse's would, as it revealed sharpened metal teeth and large forward fangs. These were the tools suited for tearing flesh and drinking the blood of its kill. Its larger front teeth would serve it well too, in keeping a hold on prey as it took it skyward from an ambush. These ideas would come easily to this creature, as the horse's intelligence became blessed, and shifted to that of a pack hunting and social creature, smart enough to use both tactics and empathy.
With its renewed strength, the horse landed upon its metal hooves as Myrtu released it. An evaluating look was cast over the creature as Myrtu told the elf maiden, "Loyalty and companionship, in all its myriad forms, be not withheld from anyone no matter how monstrous they think themselves or indeed may be. For us all, there will always, in the infinite cosmos and unrelenting variables, be another which finds resonance with our hopes. We need only meet them."
The maiden tilted her head as she blushed pink from embarrassment or shame. Yet she looked at the new horse as if she was looking into its very soul. "Your words are kind…" She whispered, "I shall think upon them when I remember this moment." She said with steady genuineness. "You are no mere mortal, are you?" This time she looked straight at Myrtu.
Nervously Myrtu replied, "No, however mine form is truly that of a horse! I did not wish to deceive, yet I have scarcely met mortals and did not wish to cause fright." Apologetically, they snorted before saying, "Let this companion be mine begging for forgiveness and a gift, both."
She seemed taken aback. "T-There's nothing to forgive!" She sputtered before stumbling her words. "I-I couldn't… I would just… I-I…" She paused to collect herself with a cough, straightening the ribbon around her eyes(even if it was perfectly straight already). "I do not deserve your kindness but it would be rude of me to not accept such a gift. Twice now I have been shown such open generosity and twice I have felt unworthy of it but I will… Try my best to take care of him… or her." She added sheepishly.
Myrtu's ears pinned back with their own small anxiousness at such a reaction. They turned about on their hooves, if only to disperse some of that worry physically, before saying, "Yours is the freedom to do as you please- accept or reject, it is within thy rights to do so. Besides-" they placed their gaze upon the horse "-I believe the latter task shall be done with ease, for this horse shall take care of itself. To you it shall offer companionship and a means of navigation!"
And for her sake, Myrtu lapsed into a highly detailed and enthusiastic description of the New Horse. Though they did acknowledge inwardly how the elf maiden turned her blind eyes toward them, how she looked up just right toward their head, Myrtu spared no details anyway- even including the creatures POTENTIAL and FREEDOM with lots of emphasis.
"...and it shall be a companionship built upon mutual understanding, trust, and most importantly, hope!" Once again Myrtu glowed, "And from this one shall the others take similar form." The Sparkle Horse God tapped the New Horse with their horn and a soft shift occurred in reality.
She could probably feel the presence of more of these horses, scattered about the Bloodmire, in numbers so as to not immediately upset the balance of the ecosystem. There was still much to be determined in it, after all.
Ever so slowly had she crept forth to the new but familiar being. Eventually the elf maiden outstretched a hand towards the beast. It clicked and brought itself forward so she might rest her hand upon it and feel it for herself. The Horse seemed unbothered by her touch, perhaps even leaned into it. "Then I shall name him Lysander, Lord of his kind and Duke of the Mire." Next the horse knelt down with its front legs and quite effortlessly did the elf climb onto his back. They rose as one, maiden with horse, her pale hands finding purchase with his black mane. She turned to Myrtu and smiled. "A fine steed he will make. Thank you, dear Two horses."
For a moment, Myrtu wanted to correct her on the name, but thought better of it.
Lysander turned his blind eyes to Myrtu and clicked, as if telling the God to stop being weird about it.
Myrtu snorted a reply that equated to 'No you,' that caused Lysander a moment of confusion.
And as if an entirely nonverbal conversation hadn't happened, Myrtu replied triumphantly, "And may you know the freedom of companionship- for be it in the sky or the ground, the winds shell be ever swift ‘neath the hooves and wings of stalwart Lysander." Then gently he told her, "And may hope never evade thy grasp. He can serve as inspiration. For ever had he, even upon the edge of death, ceaselessly believe in hope itself."
She stroked Lysander's neck and once more looked sheepishly at Myrtu. "I shall." She sighed and went for the ribbon around her eyes. "I must confess, I have not been so forthcoming. You have trusted me blindly, Two horses and now, I shall trust you." She untied the ribbon, letting it flutter in the breeze. It revealed pale eyes and broke the spell that concealed her presence. The blood that caked her melted away to reveal a true and pristine Goddess, most noble upon her new steed. "I am Wyn, Goddess of Blood and I reveal myself to you in the hopes that one day, if we are to meet again and the wits about me are lost or crazed, you would not think less of me. It's a selfish request, having just met." She shied away, looking from his gaze to beyond. As divinely as she tried to sound, her nervousness was apparent.
Trembling at the power which emanated from the revealed presence, Myrtu turned about once more, to release the hints of energy they built up in an instant response. Always, theirs was the way of making ready to run- not away from but with- those beings of power in a friendly manner of camaraderie. So far they'd found no one yet that seemed willing to do so, and thus had they the need to disperse such energy, through either dance or some other form of motion. Their spike in power and presence was a means of greeting a fellow divine and she could likely feel the friendliness which radiated from Myrtu then.
"Ah- and I thought thee but a mortal- another of those which I wish not for my name to be known so well," Myrtu lifted their horn proudly, as they gazed into Wyn's pale eyes, "As a new friend then, do I share my name of Myrtu. Be ye lost, crazed, or in another way, I shall think only of thee as Wyn."
Clearly Myrtu was a rather trusting sort, but they further clarified by saying, "We divines have our forms and moods, our shifting ways and means of being. To think less of thee for being thyself? Foolishness on my part. Better to yet accept the whole and all that it is!” There was genuineness and honesty in the weight with which they spoke and they spoke from the heart, “Truly, it shall ever be the case, that there are things about my very nature, which others may come to despise, which shall grant them cause to think me crazed, as well."
“Myrtu…” She said his name, letting it roll off her tongue. She gave a soft smile to them. “This may be so to many but to some, if I had not been who I am now, they would hate me forever more. It is not my intent to scorn or cause suffering. I only wish to be at peace… To right wrongs.” She let out a soft sigh, her smile breaking. “You are a noble and true sort, Myrtu. I shall cherish this meeting and if ever you have need of me, pray you find me with a soft smile on my lips and warmth in my heart.” She tied the ribbon around her head and set it across her eyes, the divinity of her presence faded away. “I should be going. Please, take no offense. I don’t trust myself in long conversations. Something to work on.” She muttered.
"And all is well, for I do so long to run and see this land from the surface- mayhaps a few of these new creatures shall join me in a sprint," replies Myrtu with the sound of a chuckle, "Farewell, Wyn. May Lysander serve you well." With that, the sound of Myrtu's hooves picked up, as they sprinted directly into the Bloodmire itself.
Wyn likewise followed, slow and steady was her pace.
