Vindico

Full Version: Conquering memories
You're currently viewing a stripped down version of our content. View the full version with proper formatting.
Pages: 1 2
 

Yesterday had graced her dreams with fabricated smiles and doll like eyes. The sun had burned with a brilliant cerulean flame. The color was so different and yet so fitting. Laughter had filled the silence that was deafening her ears. Different cadences made her head twist and turn in different directions as she attempted to pinpoint just one sound from another. They blended and blurred into a symphony of chaos and memories. The quite rage that had been bubbling deep in depths of her subconscious was beginning to over whelm her. She felt the tingling sensation of the puppet master spreading its aura into her skin and she shivered against the foreign feeling. It always felt like a demon was testing her will when it struggled to break her mind and sing life into itself. However, it was nothing but herself that she fought against and the prison of her body would never give her relief. 
 
Words, they were right on the surface of her mind. She knew that was what they were but she couldn’t quite articulate them in her mind. She felt as if her body had folded in on its self. She wasn’t a being of wholeness but rather her body felt as if it were a singular linear being. She knew that her body existed but its state was unknown to her as the dream consumed her mind in totality. Murmurs drifted around her head and she only needed to strain just a little to understand them. If only she could focus on those murmurs, then perhaps she could break free from the black hole of her dreams.
Alacritis had been the place where he was supposed to make a future for himself. Instead he ruined any chance of a future that he had. He had been deceived into thinking that leaving the safety of his mother's pack would be better for him. How had it been better for him? He'd lost his family, his eyesight, his home, and any sort of respect that possibly anyone ever had for him. What had he done except make a fool of himself and bring about pain to those he had sworn to protect with his own life? If he could take it all back he would, but what was the use in dwelling on something that he couldn't change? He was never going to forget what he'd done, so really it didn't matter how long he dwelled on it. He had gone and made a damned good mess of his life and now he was paying for it, alone in a new land, with his memories as his only companions. 

Powerful ebony wings would beat with a slow measured pace, ebony paws tucked safely beneath the behemoth's mass, dark tail streaming out behind him like a sail. Sightless milky eyes would stare in the direction of the setting sun, basking in the last rays of the day as he flew, enjoying the quiet of the skies. In the air he had probably already scoured the entirety of this new place and yet he had run into anyone who was the least bit of interest. The last little wolf he'd run into had quite the mouth on her and he had been inclined to shut it for her permanently. But instead of wasting his time with petty things like murder, the beast had quite simply taken to the skies. They had become his sanctuary where he could escape to where he knew most wolves couldn't reach him. He hadn't run into many wolves with wings, so for now the skies were his.  A scent that nearly been forgotten tickled his nostrils, his wings instinctively tilting downwards to carry him towards it before he even realized what he was doing. Newt. It had been so long since that name had crossed his mind and as it did, memories flooded his mind. She had been a loyal friend and packmate, advicing the beast when he had taken a pack under his rule. But after his pack's demise she had disappeared and he had never known what had become of her. Until now. 

The tips of his wings would touch bare branches, the smell of charred forest filling his nostrils as a cool settled about him, the warmth of the setting sun disappearing. He would pull his wings in closer as he made his descent, touching down quietly as he folded his wings against his back, nostrils flaring. It was definitely Newt's scent, or at least, it appeared that way. Could it be that he was driving himself so insane that he was beginning to hallucinate smells? But he would follow her scent as it became more pungent, stopping just shy of the source, dark skull inclined to the ground, assuming that she was lying down, perhaps resting or asleep since her scent pooled towards the earth. Newt? He would rumble softly, waiting to see if he would get a response.  
 

The cerulean flames that danced across her inner mind were fading in the world around her. The warmth that had come from the day was fading as the coolness of the night began to surface. The fog was beginning to become dense and paint the woods around her in a ghastly way. The inaudible words that filled her dream with so many voices seemed to shatter as her name was uttered aloud. At least, she thought it was aloud? Perhaps it was merely a deeper voice in the web of illusions. She shivered as awareness began to fill her violet eyes. What was reality and what was a dream seemed to be melting into each other. The fur, cobalt and royal as she remembered, stood sniffing her to ensure it truly was her being lying against the cold earthen grounds.


The aroma that she once knew seemed to fill her lugs and bring with it confusion. Was this truly happening? A face she had thought was merely someone else’s dream was now looking onto her and speaking her name? Her violet eyes fluttered open as they gazed onto the milky whites of the once proud king. She had served him once. At least she thought she had. The memories simply felt lost, like a puzzle missing pieces and yet the image could somewhat be seen. Had her mind not been resting and her purpose not been given life she would have allowed the panic that was edging into her consciousness to consume her. With confusion would come aggression and rage but her new companion had given her a home and with that came a little mental stability to the former queen. 


Dark limbs pushed the behemoths body upright. The inner portions were a fair lighter color grey with a hint of violet. Her dark tail pulled outwards as she balanced the girth of her body to stand. Rectangular ears pulled forward as she blinked away the sand still kissing the edges of her eyes and threatening to bring her back into unconsciousness. She allowed her violet paw to brush against her face, in an attempt to clear the fog from her eyes, to possibly break the illusion that stood before her and yet he remained unperturbed. “Turig?” the name almost felt off in her mouth. That was his name was it not? She could almost remember the disappointment he had given to her. The selfish mistakes he had made in putting his heart before his duty. Those wounds were so far away that she barely knew their reasons. She allowed her dark nostrils to flair, pulling in his aroma, tasting it and ensuring she did know this wolf and she simply wasn’t imprinting the illusion of madness onto a stranger. He had said her name after all; at least she thought he had. 


How did you find this place?” she questioned, thought she still felt as if her thoughts were cloudy and misguiding. Perhaps she was merely speaking to a ghost. A cruel trick the gods were playing on the mad women. She needed to touch him and she felt no need to ask to do so. She pushed herself forward and began to break the distance between them and pushed the edge of her nose against his shoulder. She could feel the fluff of his wings tickling her senses and the softness of his cobalt coat. He was a tangible thing and she was grateful that her mind was not simply playing a game with her reality. Though, it could still all be nothing and something all wrapped into one. Her mind was a fickle bitch that enjoyed tormenting her so and perhaps it had mastered the art of manipulation more then she realized, either way, she would see how this encounter would play out.
Dark skull would pull back in quiet waiting, ears standing at attention, listening as the dark woman before him awoke from what he assumed to be her slumber. She moved methodically, bringing herself to stand before him. There was some movement of flesh against flesh and he would cock his head quizzically to the side, trying to figure out what exactly it was that she was doing before she allowed his name to slip past her dark lips. Taurig? His name fell as a question, just as hers had from his jaws. It seemed that both were equally as confused to encounter the other in a new place. It was to be expected, having not seen one another in many seasons, but whatever had brought both of them back together in this new place Taurig was grateful for. He remembered his time with Newt in his pack, how she hadn't always agreed with decisions but had stood with him regardless. Had she forgotten her discontents with him all that time ago? He surely hoped so. He already lived with the ghosts of his mistakes and he didn't need Newt adding to that. A familiar face that wasn't a living reminder of his regrets was gladly welcome. 

The very one. As for how I found this place, I can't tell you. I simply went where my wings took me and this is where I ended up. How did you end up here? They were speaking, conversing normally as if they had seen each other just yesterday and yet the beast couldn't quite bring himself to believe what his senses were telling him. He often dreamed of his ex-wife and all the wolves he met in his time in Alacritis, their voices often traversing the dream world to haunt him in consciousness. Surely that wasn't the case here? Newt seemed to be thinking the same thing as she came to close the gap between them, pushing her cold, damp nose against his shoulder. His wings would shift against his back, extending slightly as her cold nose brushed them, before they would settle back against his spine. He would push his own muzzle out, rewarded with the warm flesh of the woman in front of him as he touched the base of her throat, just below her chin, her scent overwhelming his senses. She was as real as he was. Was the universe finally taking pity on him?
 

For the time being, she was content to accept that this was reality. His soft coat had graced her senses and she had closed her eyes against the flooding memories. Her mind was a labyrinth that only one had ever truly understood how to unlock. Push the walls of one memory and bring forth the ones they wanted her to remember. That bitch was as good as dead to her. Fable held a tight hold against the choker of obedience that she had once worn around her neck. She had since broken those shackles with a rebellious nature that was unnatural to her usual persona. It was clear the taste of authority had made her all the more picky about who the new barer of her chains would be, if she ever found one that was, it seemed the girl had become her own Master when she had claimed her crown. Perhaps that regal queen still lay in wait to steal the world again and collect the misguided and broken once more. Rejects, it was what her home had been when she reigned and still it seemed they always found her.


I follow the flowers. They speak of riddles and distort what I think was and what actually is.” She said with a hysterical laugh. She couldn’t help the outburst. Fickle was her mind when everything unfolded around her and she was left bare and vulnerable. What was up and what was down always seemed to fold over into sideways and different angles. Tomorrow, today, yesterday, and the future always felt as if they were one big blur when her mind crumbled. For a moment her eyes filled with longing and she whispered, “I miss home.” It was barely above a whisper. She was frightened that if she really opened that door she would realize there truly was no home anymore. Had there ever been one?  “My mind has fragmented again.” She said with a heart ache she hadn’t realized was affecting her. She had once been proud. She had fought for so much and for so many. She had lost everything and yet she continued to break kingdoms to bring sanity and hope to the forsaken. 


I remember names. A crown adorned with blood. A heart ripped from the bosom of a queen. My violet eyes filled with ambition. But it’s all a dream to me. A dream, that even when I reach for it, turns to ashes in my claws.” She said holding her paw out and closed her retractable claws around air. She could aww the ashes of what her life had been slipping from her paws as she placed the one back. Her violet eyes filled with disdain as she allowed a sigh to slip her mouth. “You have come but this place, I am unaware of what is around.” She said with confusion. She knew barley what this world, this realm, could offer them. “I am constrained to a kingdom that I do not believe in.” she said with a growl. Her distaste for her new home was still new but her loyalty to her new companion outweighed her distaste. “You still have freedom. Well, your body is free even if your mind is just as warped as mine.” She said with a laugh. Her tail danced behind her as she allowed her mood to smooth over for the time being. Holding onto the upset over her circumstances would change nothing. She was to follow her Banshee and that meant dealing with the child like king.
He had thought that the reappearance of Newt had perhaps been the universe's way of telling him that maybe things weren't going to be so bad, but as the behemoth of a woman began to speak, he quickly realized if anything things were perhaps about to get worse. He remembered the Newt who had been his loyal Beta, advising him, fighting beside him, caring for those that he had taken under his wing. She had been a smart, cunning woman, mighty in her strength and resolve. The woman standing before him, babbling away seemed like far cry from the one he had met all that time ago. She spoke of how her mind had splintered and how she longed for her home, of a crown that had once been hers and now she could no longer grasp. She didn't seem very pleased that she had ended up in this new place, but he would take a wild guess and say that someone had led her here. She wasn't much of a wanderer like he was. A wave of emotions would crash through the woman and Taur would wait at the shore of her ocean, waiting out the storm. 

She would come out of the other end in a seemingly better mood, laugh punctuating the air. They were both broken, though in slightly different ways. Peace seems to evade us old friend. What can we do except just keep ambling along. I'm gladdened to see that you're still alive and well, if not worse for wear. No emotion would touch his features, but the slight hint of warmth could be heard in his deep baritones. 
 

 With her hysteria she seemed to come sober up. Her violet eyes lingered over his blind ones. She remembered a time where he had eyes. Perhaps it was merely an illusion of what she had thought and what reality was. Peace was never meant to find her and she wouldn’t desire such things anyway. Peace would bring complacency and what fun was the world if all was well? A little chaos could be fun after all. She wondered if he desired a simple life, any easy life, or perhaps a life with not a care in the world. That was not reality and though she enjoyed sometimes living in her illusions she wasn’t ignorant to the way the world worked. Her tail flicked behind her as she questioned him, “Where do you plan on going?” she asked, curious if he would seek out a pack to retire too. Not that he old but he was indeed tired. She could see the weight of his past crippling him as if he were ancient. 
 
If you desire a home, at least a temporary one, why not come with me to the kingdom that I stay in? I am not saying this is a place we should call home forever but at least it’s a place to start.” She offered. Perhaps if he were close to someone he knew then he could get his virtue back. They could bring each other back from the ashes of their ascending. They could bring glory and purpose back into their lives together. Broken souls often did better in familiar circumstances. Perhaps if the duo were to regain their precious personas then they could break free from the child’s kingdom and possibly create one of their own. The future was always mutating so why couldn’t they follow with it?
She seemed to be a bit more put together, sounding more like her old self as she questioned where it was that he was going to go. He would let her question linger in the air between them, realizing that he had never really thought about just where he planned on going. Did he even have anywhere that he planned on going? Beyond leaving the place that he had once called home, coming here to this new place had been just about as far as he'd thought anything through. He didn't have plans to find a new family, to establish anything in this new place. He just wanted to be left alone with his suffering and keep himself out of a position where he wouldn't have to go through with something like that all over again. Your guess is as good as mine. I don't know where I want to go, if I want to go anywhere at all. He would answer simply and honestly, unable to come up with an explanation as to why. Perhaps it was because the wounds were still too fresh. It was too son to try and start rebuilding his life back together. 

If you desire a home, at least a temporary one, why not come with to the kingdom that I stay in? I am not saying this is a place we should call home forever but at least it's a place to start. He wasn't surprised that the woman had managed to find herself a pack already that she was clearly contemplating on staying with. She at least, though still not entirely herself, was making some steps to try and regain what had once been hers. Taurig wasn't sure if he was ready for that. I don't know if I'm suited for pack life anymore Newt. He would admit solemnly, sounding every bit as pathetic as he felt.  
 

The weight of his opprobrium was pushing against his consciousness. Her ears twitched as she watched him. Everything about him screamed defeated and pathetic. Her mind was a constant prison. One that opened one gate only to close another fast behind it and yet she maneuvered as best she could. The gods could be cruel in their ways of teaching but what they taught only helped to sculpt each individual into a better version of them.  However, he stood there, wallowing in self-pity and she felt the anger bubbling up inside her. The corruption from the past was poisoning him so deeply he was willing to allow his life to become insignificant. She remembered the male’s father stealing everything from him but if he could not rise from the ashes of his failure and learn then he was worthless.
 
Her hair bristled upright and she took an aggressive step forward. Her shadows hissed in respond to the rage that was filling her body. They were their own entity and yet still abided by their masters orders, as best as they could with her current skill level, but still they always reacted to her moods. Her tail rose behind her. A spark seemed to ignite in her eyes as she glared down at him as if he were one of her children. Her lips curled back with her disappointment to the former king. “Reality is what we make of it. You allow your short comings to crush your very soul!” she all but yelled at him, she wanted to hurt him. To smack that pathetic excuse for a wolf back to reality and into healing but how could she if he didn’t want it?
 
 “Do you remember what I lost?” Her words were so precise. It was as if her crown still hung atop her head. Her shoulder rippled behind her with her unreleased aggression and she growled at him. “Do you remember what that viper stole from me!” she fumed, and yet she felt disconnected from herself. Like her current persona was watching down on the queen she had forgotten existed. She was in awe at her own outrage as she listened to the words she spoke, “Everything I worked for. My kingdom. My wolves. Everything was gone. And though my mind has forgotten or remembers I do not allow that to define me. I am not my failure and you are not yours!” she said with a snap. She wanted to push him deep into the earth and shake the nonsense out of him.
 
You have grown weak Taurig.” She spat, and yet she remembered how broken her mind had been and would be again. Her issues were far deeper than from her time as queen. They were from the death of her father and the wolf with orange eyes that haunted her dreams. Even still she moved forward, planning, seeking, manipulating, and finding the skills she needed to become what she desired. Not the victim her sister had created her and not the failure that viper had made of her. She drew strength from all her short comings and ensured that she would be more and would play the games required of her until fate dealt her the hand she was waiting for. “I desire not to be within the kingdom I reside. The king is a child adorned with a shiny crown. He is a puppet whose strings are pulled from another’s devious paws but I need healing. I need stability in order to regain my composure. To remember who I am and to be more then whom I was. I stay in that forsaken kingdom in order to be with my companion but I will find where I truly belong in due time.” She said with certainty. In a way she was using Odyessus kingdom for her own gain and to remain loyal to Erzs. But that place was not her home. No, her home was missing still but she would find it.
 
You will wake up and learn to overcome this pain or you will die.” Her voice was clipped with her anger. Her tail was swaying back and forth like a gondola looking for a neck to head to decapitate. She shoved her body against him, pushing her weight against his shoulder and she growled into his ear. “You are worthless but you don’t have to be. Alone you will falter but with me you will thrive again. Come with me or be alone. I will not ask again.” She said In finality. She was unsure if what she said would reach him or if he was so far gone that nothing but sadness would consume him and bring him to his demise. All that potential would be wasted and what fun would it be if he crumbled like a cowering child before the boogie man? If he found his virtue then perhaps he could become a challenge for the child like king and possibly even his conqueror.
 Reality is what you make of it. You allow your short comings to crush your soul! He hasn't expected his response to bring out such a reaction from the woman, so it was only natural for him to be quite surprised at her outburst. Where was this all coming from? Newt had been his beta, his loyal pack member, his friend even, but she had never been one to show much concern for the once-King outside of his business with the pack. So why was she suddenly so concerned with what he was going to do with himself or not? He was no longer King, no longer had a pack to reside over, so she had no lingering obligation to care what happened to him. She did have some ulterior reason as to why she thought he should get his shit together? 

You have grown weak Taurig. She would stoke the beast's long dead embers, rustling up some sparks in the depths of the darkness. Though he hated to admit that she was right, it was not a lie. The cobalt King had become weak. He had allowed himself to become consumed with his grief and self-pity, shedding his former status as a proud and noble King. What did he have to show for having done that? Nothing. No family, no pack, no legacy. Perhaps his name would still be whispered amongst the wolves of his former home, but they would be hushed whispers full of pity and empathy for the King who had been ripped down by his demon of a sire. Is that really how he wanted to continue the rest of his life? If his mother could see him now, she would probably be disappointed in him. She had raised a better son than the one standing now, one who would always rise everytime he was knocked down. He was a fighter; it was in his blood. He had always looked for someone to fight for, for something to fight for, but maybe it was time that he started fighting for himself. 

You will wake up and learn to overcome this pain or you will die. Her massive body came to mesh with his again, her hot breath in his ear. You are worthless, but you don't have to be. Alone you will falter but with me you will thrive again. Come with me or be alone. I will not ask again. The anger in her tone would spark his own, the embers now turning into a steady burning flame. Smoke would curl from his ebony nostrils as the fire in his belly would awaken, tiny blue flames licking at the man's jaws as his dark wings flared up behind him. Newt was presenting him with a chance to possibly relcaim what he had lost or perhaps even build something better than what he had had. It would be something foolish to deny such an opportunity. If I come with you, will I have to swear my allegiance to this child who plays King? The idea of serving a boy was not what the man thought to be an ideal way to start his road to a new life, but perhaps it could present an opportunity that he could not see. 
Pages: 1 2