Post by Messoria on Mar 10, 2018 2:57:06 GMT -6
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[attr="class","post"]Messoria was no longer the spirited, vivacious she-wolf she’d been when she had first stepped foot upon Kairos soil.
It seemed like eons ago, in the grand scheme of things. She’d been young and lovely, and she’d known it; it had fueled her arrogance, her ambition, driving her towards a place that whispered rumors painted as a kingdom of bloodshed and devastation. Few had been brave enough, then, to walk into the maw of the beast that was Kairos. But Messoria had sauntered in boldly, heedless of the warnings, eager to become a piece that made up a puzzle of greatness. And so she had, carving her name in Kairos’ history, entwined at the very seams.
She had weathered the storm that was her rivalry with the hellish Matriarch whom had reigned before her, had captured the attention of the fearsome Emperor, had carried the future heir to the throne in her womb for months, nurturing he and his siblings when they’d at last made their way into the world. And she had been young still when she watched them grow, though the loss of several of them aged her – just as motherhood itself had aged her. With time, arrogance diminished and gave way to even-tempered regality. Ambition for herself faded, and instead manifested in ambition for her children. They would be the ones who would carry on the legacy of Kairos; they would be the ones who achieved greatness with her blood in their veins.
She was proud of them – all of them. Each day when she woke she reflected upon the greatness they had risen to; one leading a ruthless Empire, one an amicable Chieftain, one a glacial Queen. And her youngest as well, though only two remained of that litter – a boy who overcame the difficult cards that life had dealt him to complete his Agoge, and a girl who viewed the world with a practicality that was almost unnerving. They, too, would become great. She could feel it in her bones.
Though Messoria had soldiered through each and every trial laid before her with all of the dignity of a queen, she was tired. She had surpassed six years of age mere months ago, and though she was far from her time, news of Roka’s death had sobered her greatly. She had grandchildren now, her lineage expanding with each passing season, and she had never been more aware of how quickly time slipped past than in that moment.
Ina’mos had been so very quiet lately; though the season was upon them, there were no new mothers upon the island to coach, no squealing pups to tend to. The captive females taken from the Isles had long ago settled into their new lives within Kairos, and so Messoria had been left with little to do aside from what she had always done – lay patiently in wait and listen.
Perhaps that was what had driven her to Vor’asa. It was a cloudless night, beams of light from the full moon shining down upon the dunes, glistening in her ebony fur as her slight form glided across the sand. Brigand had been left upon Ina’mos, for she did not wish to risk him during the swim. She was alone, it seemed, and it was a strange sensation. So rarely did she find herself with only her own company; it was…lonely, in a way.
The Matriarch came to a halt atop one of the dunes, velvety ears perked atop her skull as blazing amber orbs gazed across the wide expanse of sand before her. She stood silently there, reflecting upon the Empire that stretched around her – Vor’asa, Ina’mos, Ser’eri, Ale’ina. A dynasty like no other, forged through trial and tribulation, earned with blood and determination.
Time would slow for no one, not even her, but she had at least lived long enough to see history unfold.
Words: 646
Tags:
Muse: excellent
Notes: melancholy Messy!
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It seemed like eons ago, in the grand scheme of things. She’d been young and lovely, and she’d known it; it had fueled her arrogance, her ambition, driving her towards a place that whispered rumors painted as a kingdom of bloodshed and devastation. Few had been brave enough, then, to walk into the maw of the beast that was Kairos. But Messoria had sauntered in boldly, heedless of the warnings, eager to become a piece that made up a puzzle of greatness. And so she had, carving her name in Kairos’ history, entwined at the very seams.
She had weathered the storm that was her rivalry with the hellish Matriarch whom had reigned before her, had captured the attention of the fearsome Emperor, had carried the future heir to the throne in her womb for months, nurturing he and his siblings when they’d at last made their way into the world. And she had been young still when she watched them grow, though the loss of several of them aged her – just as motherhood itself had aged her. With time, arrogance diminished and gave way to even-tempered regality. Ambition for herself faded, and instead manifested in ambition for her children. They would be the ones who would carry on the legacy of Kairos; they would be the ones who achieved greatness with her blood in their veins.
She was proud of them – all of them. Each day when she woke she reflected upon the greatness they had risen to; one leading a ruthless Empire, one an amicable Chieftain, one a glacial Queen. And her youngest as well, though only two remained of that litter – a boy who overcame the difficult cards that life had dealt him to complete his Agoge, and a girl who viewed the world with a practicality that was almost unnerving. They, too, would become great. She could feel it in her bones.
Though Messoria had soldiered through each and every trial laid before her with all of the dignity of a queen, she was tired. She had surpassed six years of age mere months ago, and though she was far from her time, news of Roka’s death had sobered her greatly. She had grandchildren now, her lineage expanding with each passing season, and she had never been more aware of how quickly time slipped past than in that moment.
Ina’mos had been so very quiet lately; though the season was upon them, there were no new mothers upon the island to coach, no squealing pups to tend to. The captive females taken from the Isles had long ago settled into their new lives within Kairos, and so Messoria had been left with little to do aside from what she had always done – lay patiently in wait and listen.
Perhaps that was what had driven her to Vor’asa. It was a cloudless night, beams of light from the full moon shining down upon the dunes, glistening in her ebony fur as her slight form glided across the sand. Brigand had been left upon Ina’mos, for she did not wish to risk him during the swim. She was alone, it seemed, and it was a strange sensation. So rarely did she find herself with only her own company; it was…lonely, in a way.
The Matriarch came to a halt atop one of the dunes, velvety ears perked atop her skull as blazing amber orbs gazed across the wide expanse of sand before her. She stood silently there, reflecting upon the Empire that stretched around her – Vor’asa, Ina’mos, Ser’eri, Ale’ina. A dynasty like no other, forged through trial and tribulation, earned with blood and determination.
Time would slow for no one, not even her, but she had at least lived long enough to see history unfold.
Words: 646
Tags:
Muse: excellent
Notes: melancholy Messy!
CODED BY EMERALD
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