Queens of the Ancient [AW Event]
The scenes had shifted, taking form of the den she had claimed in the cliffside long ago in the old lands of Alacritia, the dream of death – a herald of the eruption that had prompted the Exodus? – and the night she’d nearly died to Blackmoon assassins.
And finally, the redwood in the north that she and Cairo’s children had taken shelter in to rest. A place of new beginnings. It was here that they had slept for the first time in the new lands before Cairo had found and led them to Valhalla’s new home.
She ruminated on the memories as she often did between visits from her great grandchildren, and from her daughters and sons, and her grandson and his mate. Here in Somnium, while she couldn’t look down and see all within the living Realm, she had family, her love, and fleeting visits from loved ones that had yet to join them.
Though she had no need to breathe here, she’d still settled in, breathing in deeply just for the sensation, as ephemeral as it was. Touch was insubstantial here, something she did sometimes resent in her family’s visits. She missed the solid pressure of her daughter’s hugs, the occasional pain of Regulus stepping on her as a big-footed pup still learning his own strength. She even missed the pangs of birthing, even if she’d only gotten one litter to experience it with.
Death was blissful, and yet she did miss the pains and aches from life, as odd or deranged as it might sound. She missed the sting of astringent scented herbs in her nose as she chewed a poultice for a patient’s sore joints or raw wound.
Existence here could be so predictable. And perhaps it was this discontent that had triggered the change in her existence now. She’d settled on the cliff in old Valhallan lands above her old, likely long-buried by ash, den, paws crossed and dangling off the edge, gazing out over the lands and the memories of wolves as dead as she was now, going about their lives of then. Guinevere and Cairo patrolling. Children scampering. Blitzkrieg slowly healing from his injuries.
It was an old scene, and old memory. She’d been so naive then. She’d never thought that she would have her own children. She’d never realized that she’d find a love that wasn’t a true love, or that Cairo would, in his last conversation with her, tell her he loved her. She’d never known that Guinevere would fall so ill, or that she’d be forced to choose between her loyalties, and that Cairo would win for that loyalty. So many things that she’d not seen coming, some good, some bad.
Her eyes had closed, and then the atmosphere had shifted. Her eyes had opened, and she was no longer in Somnium. Her hackles bristled in alarm, before the late Queen Healer had composed herself and allowed her mind to work, and her eyes to take in the surroundings.
She knew these lands. They were achingly familiar, if changed. She’d seen glimpses in her descendant’s dreams when they visited. But it wasn’t just the wall and the tower she could see vaguely silhouetted against the top of the hill that held the cave she’d found as a pregnant new mother. She wished she could have seen Surreal’s second litter born into the alcoves as they had been, and the third. She’d been blessed enough to see Regulus and his sisters into the world before it was her time to leave it behind.
The changes that alarmed her were the mushrooms, crystals and fireflies, the full moon that dwarfed the streaked stars in the sky, and the corpse of a hare that – no, not dead, she realized as it twitched and gasped for a breath – was riddled with the fungi and the minerals, orifices weeping. All of the fungi and crystals, and the oozing … pus? Mucus? glowed in some way.
It was unnerving, and strongly reminiscent of the plague she’d fought against. Tears of blood, hallucinations and fear, and death. She could only hope that prey was the only animal being affected, but her gut said it was far from that hopeful. And if that was the case, what could she even do to help? These symptoms were a thousand times worse than the plague she remembered. And she’d been alive then.
She glanced down at her own paws. The change in the atmosphere she could feel, but the ground beneath her paws was as insubstantial as it was in Somnium. Or… perhaps it was she who was the insubstantial one. A spirit among the living?
If this wasn’t a dream called up by Aurielle or Ardyn, her most common visitors, then she needed to figure out what was going on. Had Regulus or Surreal been displaced? Cormalin?
Carefully, she took a step. Though she couldn’t feel it, she also didn’t fall through the ground, and so she kept walking, ears swiveling and fathomless sapphire eyes searching. As she reached the boulder under the two Oaks she stopped, gazing at the place, memories floating about her mind. Meetings, dramatic changes in the course of her pack’s history, Cairo collapsing at the sight of his children fighting, his daughter defending her place from Syrinx when he’d come from nowhere and attempted to claim the pack.
So many pieces of history. And even the boulder she herself had once sat upon to address the pack was riddled with glowing flora and minerals that most definitely had not been there in her time.
Her ears flicked back at the tread of paws, and her head turned to focus on the familiar figure drawing near. Fearless, poised with grace as she turned to face the other, definitely living wolf.
Amorielle
Advanced Fighter (80)
Beginner Healer (0)
5 Years
Female
0
Dragon Mod
Amorielle Adravendi |
Things had taken a drastic turn over the course of Winter, and it seemed it would continue on into Spring. What a way to start off her second birthday, wasn't it? Darkness had cast itself over the lands like a heavy blanket, though the moon still shone large and heavy among the streaking stars. Luckily, she had managed to avoid becoming sick...unlike some of Valhalla's members...and she was struggling to try and find a solution on how to help them. She carried a pawful of mushrooms in a makeshift satchel she had slung over her shoulder, the young Adravendi making her way to her den so she could try and figure out a way to test these without poisoning herself, or someone else. She considered catching a prey animal to test on, but she wasn't sure if she'd catch something from the oozing, glowing creatures. Some had even begun to grow crystals and mushrooms themselves, and it was obvious by now that wolves weren't the only victims.
Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think |
Amorielle started to cry out, but fell silent instead, and Erani stood patiently, head cocking faintly as she regarded her descendant with frank interest and perception, a faint smile touching her features.
“I am Erani, Amorielle. And, for some strange reason, it seems I’m visiting you instead of you coming to see me in Dreams.”
Her voice was as husky and warm as it ever was, smooth and melodic, cadenced like a storyteller, and she stepped forward, studying the young woman as she added, “It seems it’s been a while since your mother last visited. You’ve grown snice her last description.”
And yet the youthful wolf before her was tired. It was in the lines of her body, the worry under the shock of seeing a stranger… She glanced down at herself. Or maybe it was that young Amorielle could possibly see through her. Yes, that would jolt just about anyone.
She cast a look around and admitted, “And it looks like the world has changed considerably since my time. I don’t remember the moon being so large, or any glowing things like the mushrooms or crystals… Do you have any idea of what is happening?”
Amorielle
Advanced Fighter (80)
Beginner Healer (0)
5 Years
Female
0
Dragon Mod
Amorielle Adravendi |
“I am Erani, Amorielle. And, for some strange reason, it seems I’m visiting you instead of you coming to see me in Dreams.” She couldn't help but remain speechless. Though it was mostly at what she was seeing more than anything. The wolf before her seemed like she was there...but also not. Like she was a piece of her imagination, and yet her warm voice told her she was here on this plane as opposed to the dream world that Erani had mentioned. "It seems it’s been a while since your mother last visited. You’ve grown snice her last description.” Her head cocked to the side and she realized then, that this was the infamous ancestor that she had heard so much about from her mother.
Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think |
“I’m sure you’ll have been taught about the Weeping Plague?” Given her daughter, grandson, and Aurielle’s own love for history and its lessons, she doubted the Spirit would have left that history lesson out, especially with at least one healer in the litter.
“Back when your grandmother Surreal was a yearling or perhaps two, a plague swept the lands. Wolves wept tears of blood, had hallucinations, fevers, and many died. There was a cure found eventually, thankfully…” And then Viridian had stabbed the backs of the very pack she’d helped save. And Erani hadn’t been able to win that fight. She’d lived with the guilt of not being able to keep her pack from being scattered like leaves on a harsh wind.
Her eyes scanned the plains and she asked, “Would you be willing to show me a patient? My knowledge may be antiquated, but sometimes there are clues from the past that help in the present or future.”
Amorielle
Advanced Fighter (80)
Beginner Healer (0)
5 Years
Female
0
Dragon Mod
“Would you be willing to show me a patient? My knowledge may be antiquated, but sometimes there are clues from the past that help in the present or future.” Amorielle's attention was captured, her mind ticking as she thought. Surely something from the past could help them now, right? Her mind raced with potential subjects, and she decided on one in particular. Tel didn't seem to have abnormal growths, perhaps she would be the simplest bet. "I do know someone, she isn't as infected as the others, I think. But she still has symptoms." She tossed her head back and sounded a gentle summon for the yearling and waited patiently for her arrival.
You have been infected with strain 2 of the Ooze.
Your attention blurs and refocuses. It feels as if you are in a dream as you find yourself alone in the mist. Fireflies gather and light the way to a table with a figure waiting behind it. On the table lay three items, with their prices beside them. "Choose w̶̢̧͉̥̻̟͈͙̽̉̆̿̈͒͋̓̇̍͌̇̎͠͝ì̵̢̝̄͐́͆̓̚ṣ̶̛͙̟͎̤̞̤͎̹̙̭̪͔̓̐̾̂͆̄͆͌̈̈́̏̚͜͝͠ȩ̴͔̱̗̜̾̉̀̓̀͆͛̊̂̍̕̚̚̚ͅl̵̢̦̲̼̠̖̜̺̮̜̺͋̈́y̴̧̨̧̪̗̥̘͇̾͑͗͜͠, and only choose o̷͕̭̊̃̌̊̏̀ņ̸̼͚͉͔̒͐̊e̵̮̯͛̔̀̑͜," the figure says, looming over the table as his eyes seem to peer into your soul. Are they... moving? "If you can afford it, that is. Actually.... it seems you can't. Oh well. Better luck next time, young wolf." With that he wastes no time in sweeping up his belongings and disappearing.
Erani Adravendi |
There was a subtle touch of pride in her ethereal chest as Amorielle confirmed that Aurielle was as keen on history as her father and grandmother had been. She’d had a dying wish, murmured into Surreal and Regulus’ ears that the history of the land, of Valhalla and their family, both blood and adoptive, be passed down accurately, not embellished by pride.
She nodded sympathetically at the subtle tone of desperation in her descendant’s voice and explanation. She knew the desperation. She’d been in the thick of it, with Surreal so sick and seeing her absentee father in the shadows, terrible and violent. While he’d had his faults, Nova had always been loving with their pups up until he and Castiel had vanished on a hunting trip.
There had been a piece of her that knew Nova hadn’t died as Castiel had believed. Her gut, maybe. The anger had been icy and undying, carefully tucked away, that the man had never returned to his family, even if he was almost dead from old age. While she never regretted her five beautiful children, she felt as though the dark male had somehow robbed her of time that could have been spent making a life with Cairo. Carrying his name in more ways than the giving of a man in his last weeks of life.
She shook away the brief memory as Amorielle suggested a patient to study, but as she called for her, Erani shook her head. “It may be better to see her in her den, if possible. Or, are the sick all quarantined in the Alcoves? Maybe the caves further back?”
That would be best. To her memory, while the cave system she’d claimed as the Lead Healer of Valhalla all those years ago was pretty central to the territory, it was secluded enough to serve well as a quarantine station. It had done well during the Weeping Plague.
[Move to next thread after Amory's reply(I can start it if you like lol)??]
Walk ---- "Speak" ---- "Labhair an Sean-Teanga." ---- "Hear" ---- Think |