The peace that formerly reigned in Terra Nova has eroded, now little more than a memory. War ravages the continent. Disputes divide kingdoms; ideals divide families. The quest for power consumes absolutely and indiscriminately. None are immune to its allure.
Who will rise and who will fall? Only time—and ambition—will tell.
New gifted family of Lorendale added to the Families of Importance, the Decarlos!
At the beginning of February 2022 the site will experience a 5 year time jump! The IC year will jump from 822 to 827! This gives us about 8 months to prepare our characters for that jump. We plan to host very intentional planning sessions to help everyone get their plots and characters ready for this! As of this moment, one thing you should all start considering is making sure the threads your characters are in are furthering your character's stories.
They had not stopped. Not for broken wheels or bones or hearts. The small force of Rashai and Djilia Adhla had led to intercept the attack moving against the Cave of Names had made quick, horrific work of the barbarians that scoured their lands. Trampling their roads. Their freedom. Their very way of life.
Fear burned at their heels as they made for the border. Adhla had not let herself worry. Not until she saw the bodies, until whispers of what had transpired at the border filled her ears as the caravans she led reunited with those who had traveled ahead of them. The children, voices carried, wafting between crippled wagons and scorched earth, the children were hit hardest.
Reshi knew her mind even before she did, and the hippo groaned at her side, bringing her to his back with a vault of earth beneath her feet. Together, they raced, the ground moving with unnatural speed, rolling under Reshi’s charging feet. All around them, others were doing the same. Running. Desperate. Eyes searching for faces they thought they might never find.
It was Menowin they saw first, disappearing around another wagon. Reshi veered, and Adhla slid from his haunches. Her hair flew, long-since dismantled from the braid that still hung, in loose, forgotten knots over her shoulder. “Mennie! @danior !” It was possible that she had never shouted in her life. Even as a child, she had always been quiet. Steadfast. Even. Panic seeped into her now.
This was not the Cave. Coheed was not the sand. And she was not prepared to lose her boy. Not now. Not like this.
Last Edit: Nov 25, 2020 22:55:02 GMT -5 by Deleted
The days that had past since the border had been trying. Tiresome. Lonely even though there had been thousands still around him. Even when he laid in the bed besides Tempest, both just trying to ease their minds, he felt alone. Losing his daughter had not been something that he had been prepared for.
When the other caravans had been spotted, he came up to the surface and found himself searching for the one driver he wanted to see the most. The one that he trusted more than the others. And when she wasn't there, he felt almost restless. Trying to calm the others, trying to settle in the ones who just wanted to find their friends, their lovers, their family. He was rounding a few wagons with Menowin hot on his heels when he heard their names.
He heard the one voice he had been looking for hours before. Both dyr and human spun on their heels. The fact that she had yelled for them processing as they both moved towards her with a pace faster than theirs had been before when greeting the others. He ran forward and wrapped her tall, lean body into his arms and buried his face into the crook of her neck. "Adhla." His voice deep against her skin. He had to tell himself to not squeeze her too hard. Even though all he wanted to do was hold her tightly until she absorbed him. "You are okay." Okay enough that she was standing here.
His dark eyes peeked over her shoulder to her dyr, Reshi. "Thank you for keeping her safe." He said to the dyr.
His arms were around her and for a single, panic ridden moment, Adhla sank into Danior. Into the familiarity of his embrace and the overwhelming sense of security she found there. Whatever they were to one another now, he was an inherent, irrevocable part of her. And he was alive. Menowin too. Reshi took the opportunity to lumber his way from her side to where the bear stood, exhaling his own, weighty breath of relief. His eyes connected with Danior as the man spoke to him, pausing just long enough to offer a solemn nod.
“Our boy?” She would have stayed wrapped up in him if she could, at least for a moment longer to hide from the death that lay in the wake of Coheed’s attack. But her heart would not rest until she knew. Until she was certain. Adhla pulled her head up from the crook of Danior’s shoulder, big eyes leaping to find his. To search for an answer there. Where was he? The child who was too tall for his age, who had her complexion and his father’s sense of adventure. Her only child.
Danior held her, he didn't care for how long at this point. He'd hold her until the sun set and the crickets were singing their tunes into the night sky. She was okay, she was safe, and she was here. Adhla and him had a relationship that was hard to define, and yet when they were together it all made sense. They didn't hold one another to only each other, but they definitely always made time to see each other when they could. Every conclave since he had become the One. Every time he traveled to Rashai. In a way, it was simply easy to say that he loved her. And he did. The mother of his child, the driver of his caravan before he became the One, the woman who was so tall that she almost rivaled him but still somehow fit beautifully in his arms.
The moment she asked the question, he eased back to look at her. Those large, doe eyes looking up at him could have shattered his heart if he had to tell her something bad. He slipped his hands to her face and stroked his thumbs along her cheeks as he spoke. "He's here. Injured, but he is fine. He kept others safe in our wagon." The boy was braver than he gave him credit for. Only eight years old, and yet he stood there and protected other children. Some larger than himself. Against men of Coheed. He was so proud of his son that tears threatened to spill from his eyes. But he was stronger than that. "He did so well." He whispered, placing a gentle kiss on her if she allowed him.
Tillie, his daughter though, had not been able to escape death. She had been fighting alongside others. The image of her body laid to death still haunted him when he closed his eyes.
He was alive. Tears spilled over to wet her cheeks as she nodded, sinking into the familiarity of his embrace, the feel of his hand against her face. Adhla nodded again, the relief washing over her in waves. When she had heard of their losses, of all the children—
Danior lowered his lips to hers, and Adhla did not hesitate to meet them. He was alive too, and her arms shook as they threaded themselves around the nape of his neck. Because he was here. Because she could. Because—despite it all—they had survived. When she spoke again, it was with her lips still pressed against his, moving with the breath of her own whisper. “He should not have had to.”
None of them should have. They were not warriors. Their boy was a child. Her people were artisans. This was wrong.
Adhla fell away from him with the same breath, taking the remnants of her kiss with her as she raised her eyes to find his once more, arms still laced across his shoulder. “And Tillie?” The girl had never been hers, not even in the way the children of Rashai were all hers, but she meant something to Danior and they had cared for one another long enough for that to matter.
He relished in the way that she kissed him back. Just like for her, he found her very alive and warm. Very welcoming and so much like a comfort of home that he got lost in her for a moment. Adhla and himself never decided that they'd be alone together, but every time he stayed with Rashai, he saw no one else. It was just her. She was everything he could ask for in a woman and the mother of his son. He held the most respect for her and thought all the time that he couldn't have found a better mother for the boy.
"I know, trust me I know." he said to her. Not removing himself from her as she spoke. And then when she leaned back, when she asked the one question he was not ready for, not from her, he closed his eyes. His jaw tightening as he pictured the thirteen year old. His daughter. His only child that had made it to Conclave and survived. His arms shook lightly as they held Adhla. "She didn't make it." He bit out after a moment. And he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. She was tall and yet all he wanted to do was collapse into her arms.
Adhla knew the answer to her question long before he gave it. She could feel it in the shudder than ran through the arms that held her as surely as she could see it in his eyes. By the time Danior’s face found comfort on her shoulder, her hand was already in his hair, cradling his head as she dragged him down into the dirt. It did not matter who else might see. All of Dresmond was an open cry of anguish. But they were alone, cut off from the rest of the caravans by the width of his wagon and the size of their dyrs. Reshi rocked against Minnie, letting out an echoing wail of his own.
If Adhla utters words, they were quiet whispers across his cheek and ear as she held him wrapped in the lithe curve of her long arms. Adhla had only ever met the girl a handful of times, but her tears fell all the same in a light, steady stream. They were for Danior as much as they were for Tillie, for the ache her loss had left behind. For all the children they had lost.