Deviation Actions
Literature Text
featuring Tzilan
with mentions of Roxanne and Etain
Late Spring, Year 761 of the New Age
Windborne, Gumtree Hollow
As he looked out across the hollow - Gumtree Hollow, how strange to be standing here! - he saw fawns scampering untended and old Stormbringers listening for voice of the wind. He saw fillies sparring together, practicing to become as great as the old General Etain and new recruits wincing as the older soldiers cropped away their manes with rough obsidian blades. He saw Illyrica, shy with strangers, playing exuberantly with her young friends, and he saw her mother standing watching, a smile on her face... but anxiety was still written on Roxanne’s body, and the flickering light in her eyes was ever touched with fear.
How he now regretted his obeisance to the wind; how he wished he could take Roxanne and Illyrica away from this, protect them in some secluded place and grow a family with them, the family he had never known he had wanted until he had seen mother and daughter reunited. He wanted that joy for both of them every day and he knew he could not give it to them; not here. Not the way that he had become.
Roxanne had given herself to him out of duty, he knew. He had asked the Cape does to grant them the boon of children, and she had given herself. She did not love him; just as the fickle lost love of his youth had not loved him. He had promised both so much and given so little; he could not protect Roxanne’s daughter, that most precious to her, just as he could not win the fight for the golden doe. Back then, when he was a mere child, the wind had hounded him from his herd and chased him towards a fate: this fate, this power, this great heartsick yearning for that which was not his.
The wind could not chase him now. He had sworn to its terms, but it had sworn to his: it could not refuse his command. And yet, and yet… there was no subtlety to the response it gave. If he wished to be heard his voice was a roaring gale; if he summoned a cooling breeze he was given a raw, bone-chilling wind. There were to be no soothing zephyrs easing his pains; there was only the storm.
He was to lead these people now: the fawns, the Stormbringers, the fillies, the recruits; all eyes looked to his stormclad form. The power the storm had granted him - no, the power the storm had won from him - was all they saw and the power that he desired, the power to make her love him, the power to bring her blossoms on the breeze… that was as nothing to each and every one of them who played and loved and were happy together.
Everything had changed, and at once, nothing changed at all.
mosiebear and TigressDesign - I hope it's ok borrowing your ladies for Tzilan to be weird at x)