Post by nessyo on May 3, 2013 17:03:20 GMT -5
Orpheus[/size]
OOC| Open for witnesses or what have you; otherwise this'll just be a little character-development post/story/thing. posted here from the thread I adopted Nyx's physical design in.
It was NOT a dark and stormy night, as Orpheus picked his way through the forest heart of Sacramento with his precious cargo on his back. It should've been, but it wasn't.
The spring air was cool, and fireflies flitted through the trees, providing the only illumination on a night as dark as this one. The stallion seemed to have no trouble picking his way through the gloom: he had taken Horace's potion, and so for this season the dark was no object to him. The heavy box on his back was more of an issue, but he bore this with a singleminded determination somewhat unusual to him: Orpheus was on a mission, and that mission required the heavier magics of this place.
Eventually, he slowed, searching the ground for something specific, and it didn't take him long to find the circle of stones he was looking for. The magic was thicker here, and so strong he could taste it. That was exactly what he needed.
Placing the box gingerly down into the center, he nudged open it's lid and looked for a moment at it's contents: the gift that had been left in his waterfall, a mummified corpse. He had risen it briefly, and had dare not tried again-- this, he wanted to do better. He wanted to restore some kind of life to the young one, let it live the life that had been robbed of it before it had ever been truly experienced.
Eyes half-closed, Orpheus gathered the magics to him, feeling their pull, and pushed them into the little lifeless body before him.
The height of his experimentation, before this moment, did produce language, but it could hardly be called sapience; his thralls could simply see and then repeat the things they saw back at him, like morbid parrots. IF he could do this, it would be a huge moment for him: when he learned to reinstill sapience... at least temporarily.
He was so focused on the pull of the magic-- and not getting lost in it-- that he didn't notice, right away, when his attempt proved successful. Of her own volition, the foal stood within the box, and then delicately picked her way out of it. Orpheus did not see her until she spoke-- a quiet, tentative question, after many minutes of looking around in confusion. She could not see-- only sense what was around her from the ghost of it's magical energy. "Where.. Where am I?" Her voice was hoarse, as dry as she was.
Orpheus came out of his trance with a jolt, and then his eyes widened. The significance of even that question was huge-- never before had anything he risen had the presence of mind to question. "This place is called Sacramento." he replied tentatively, and then could not conceal the fascination in his voice, when he asked: "What is your name?" Would she remember? Would she even know?
It took a long long moment, and the look on her face was confused as she tried to look back; what had her name been? "I am.. I was.. I am called Nyx..?" she answered, taking a tentative step forward and trying, at the same time, to make sense of a great jumble of memories that felt a long, long way off. "I am very cold."
Orpheus smiled. He could feel the pull of exhaustion from these magics, but the thrill was too great for him to acknowledge it now. Perhaps, with practice, he could lengthen his magical stamina, keep her alive longer; he probably would never be able to do so without significant drain, but he had restored life... sort of. And that was worthy of a little drain. "Little one, when we get you home, you shall have all the blankets you need to keep you warm."
