| Welcome to Sekkai Fractures. We hope you enjoy your visit. You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free. Join our community! If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features: |
| Generational Teachings; For Nim | |
|---|---|
| Tweet Topic Started: Aug 24 2013, 08:11 PM (268 Views) | |
| Zinc | Aug 24 2013, 08:11 PM Post #1 |
![]()
The Owl Waife
![]()
|
Anamchara moved quietly through the halls of the Academy. The hour was still early, and as she was heading into the Wyrmling’s barracks, a long-ago memory plucked at the back of her mind, reminding her of how much the young ones loved to sleep in on days that their lessons were not immediately apparent to them. A few of the young dragons had already passed her by in the hallway, indicating that they were early risers. As for Anamchara’s daughter Aquila, with the fiery spirit that the little one seemed to possess, the Fire dragoness had little doubt that her daughter was anything aside from an early riser. She wondered mildly what Aquila’s rider thought of that. There had certainly been an early skirmish for dominance between the two of them at their bonding. But that wasn’t the reason that she was seeking her daughter out this morning. No…rather she had heard concerning news that had nagged at her since the day of her daughter’s birth. With the lesson enforced for the wyrmlings to take their first Flights, she had found her daughter suffering under the same generation curse that she had been forced to withstand until her mother had taught her the secrets required for one who did not hold the innate knowledge. With the build of Aquila’s wings, she would no doubt find it a difficult task to achieve flight without the proper instruction, no matter how willing her heart, and no matter how frequent the tries. Without the proper knowledge, she would merely fall, time and again, as she had. The distant memory flickered to light in her mind like a glass, fogged along the edges by time. She remembered looking up at her mother, perched upon the cliff face above. She was exhausted, tired, dirty, and ashamed, for she had leapt and reached for the sky many times before, willing and desperate to succeed where time and again she had failed. Every attempt was the same. ”Are ye quite done makin’ a merry fool of yerself, daughter-mine?” she could still hear her mother’s lilt as the blue-brown of her feathers caught the light, yellow eyes peering down at her. ”Or would ye like to test if gravity is still workin’ again before ye hear yer old ma out?” Pride had indeed come before the fall. Many falls. The Talon let out a gentle sigh, coming to a pause before the doorway to her daughter’s room. Riven had left this task to her, knowing that it was a lesson that a daughter must learn from her mother. Dhruva as well, would have been an apt teacher, but with the strain of a Shadowguarde’s position weighing on him as well as his position as a Talon, she felt that it would be a small kindness to undertake the duty. After the Gravity who had saved her daughter from a nasty collision with the earth in her lesson had informed Anamchara of the results of the Fire’s attempts, she had steeled herself, and resigned herself to the lesson, prepared to undertake the role in lieu of the Gravity’s offer. Part of her wished she had the courage to go and ask her mother to come and assist her as well, as she had been the dragon to teach her from the get-go how to fly like an Air, and not like a Fire, hammering out a new set of instinctual movements that had become as easy as thought as the years had gone by. Silver claws reached up and rapped on the door as gently as the could, though she frowned as she thought she saw dents form in the wood. “Aquila? Mannix? Are either of you awake?” she called softly, her purple eyes lidding as her ears strained to hear for any sort or reply from the duo, letting her know that she had been heard, and that her journey into the barracks hadn’t been a fruitless search. |
![]() |
|
| Nimirra | Aug 30 2013, 10:10 AM Post #2 |
|
Meathods of Madness
![]()
|
Morning’s golden rays filtered lazily through the chamber window, slowly lengthening the strip of light cast upon the floor and illuminating the motes of dust seemingly suspended in midair. It was a gorgeously natural display, a little thing in life that Mannix wouldn’t have a chance to appreciate while his eyes were busy locked onto and burning a metaphorical hole into the back of Aquila’s head. He had already risen from bed and dressed out of forced habit and still the Fire lay dormant, her plated back turned towards him, feigning slumber. The blond man’s frown deepened, creasing skin with signs of early aging thanks to the silent stress he’d carried for days now. For as much as the pair butted heads constantly, he’d never experienced her so dispassionate, like witnessing dying embers where once was a roaring flame. Life had been stolen from her core, smote with the suffocating anxiety of falling where others had flown. He’d expected her honor to be dented, but never had he imagined depression would crush her armor like a monolithic bolder flattens smith forged steel. She’d been listless for days now, hardly eaten, refusing to move from her warm roost. She hadn’t spoken or given any acknowledgement to either kind word or baiting jest Mannix had prodded her with, always keeping her gaze fixated firmly on the wall between bouts of restless sleep she’d slumped into. These antics had persisted long enough Mannix could now differentiate between her wakeful staring and restless naps. And as it so happened, his glaring frustration seething from his chocolate irises was due to knowing full well that Aquila had already woken for the day, just simply was choosing to yet again ignore anyone’s existence but the inanimate stone wall face. Mannix was just about at the end of his patience, clinging to fraying tatters as the minutes slowly slid by with the all due haste of a snake amidst digestion. Before his temper had a chance to reach its peak, however, a grating rasp that hardly could be taken as human shook the door in its frame. A female’s voice filtered through, checking on either of the Fire pair’s awareness. The young rider bounded forward quick as greased lightning before his mind even had a chance to try and place the owner of the voice. He yanked the door open with manic haste, both thankful for the distraction and hopeful for a helping hand. The dragoness waiting on the other side was no disappointment. “Anamchara,” Mannix sighed with a mixture of exasperation and relief, “I could use your help with, well, this.” Pushing the door wider with his shoulder, he jabbed a thumb in the direction of the seemingly deaf daughter dragoness who’d not so much as twitched a muscle at her mother’s voice, too lost in her own drowning misery to hear the world around her. The rider swallowed hard, searching for the indigo gaze of the Talon before him. “Please. She’s been like this since the lesson… and I don’t know what to do,” |
![]() |
|
| Zinc | Sep 7 2013, 10:32 AM Post #3 |
![]()
The Owl Waife
![]()
|
When the door to the wyrmling’s room opened, the dark colored Fire peered down at the man who was standing before her. Aquila’s bonded, Mannix, she believed the boy’s name was. He’d certainly appeared to make quite the impression on her daughter, though not in the best of ways. It seemed that he was expected to better himself under her care, to be molded into more of a warrior…she had not seemed to approve of his slouching when they had initially met. A small smile curved onto Anamchara’s jaws in remembrance of the event, though it was tempered by hesitance. Such a serious child, Aquila had been, and that as such, was worrisome. There was nothing wrong with a child who wished to ascend to greatness, but Anamchara was worried that a sapling would not be able to grow within such a mighty shadow that she and Dhruva cast. She needed sunlight. Mannix caught her attention, pushing the door open wider and casting his hand to gesture in the direction of her daughter, who was curled up in the shadowy corners of the room in her nest. Purple eyes rested on the form, which barely moved save for the rise and fall of her chest, no sign of acknowledgement greeted her presence at the door. The faint smile that had been on her jaws moments before faded away into a worried frown. She turned her eyes away from Aquila to look down at Mannix, assessing the information that he presented to her. “I see.” She said, then let out a soft sigh. “Oh dear, I was quite afraid of this…” and in truth, she had been. Aquila strove for greatness as she had, though the shock of failure seemed to rattle the child far more than it had ever jarred Anamachara. Failure was something to learn from, not to wallow in, and she would need to prove that to Aquila, and quickly. Besides…this fault…well it was something that Anamchara and Dhruva were both at fault for, not Aquila, and thus, it was something she would have preferred to fix, and quickly, before the spiral ascended any further to rock bottom. She inclined her head towards Mannix, a small, reassuring smile back in place, though it did little to ease the uncertainty that the mother Fire felt. She wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. She led soldiers, after all. It had been a long time since she had last had offspring that she raised. The last was Tezcatlipoca, and he had rarely had any issues, if at all, as he’d grown. “Do not worry, Mannix. I believe I can help you, and her as well.” She carefully pushed her way into the room, minding the young rider underfoot as she stepped into the dimly lit interior and in a few easy, patient strides, reached her daughter’s nest. She paused, surveying Aquila’s back for a moment before she paced around to stand before her. “Daughter.” She spoke calmly. “Rouse yourself. There are lessons to be taught.” |
![]() |
|
| Nimirra | Sep 9 2013, 02:33 PM Post #4 |
|
Meathods of Madness
![]()
|
Mannix remained slumped against the doorframe as Anamchara gazed beyond him, sighing and admitting her long-harbored concern in such simplistic phrasing. The acknowledgement sapped the rider of the last of his mental strength, withering his tanned figure into a hallowed shell where no answer was known to him, no control of the situation within his grasp. It sent him spiraling in a mental downfall, vertigo forged in drowning desperation. The hopelessness of his own inability to cope with the shared bond was fracturing his foundations, rending a hole through his carefully kept environment at the speed of light. Like being thrown a rope mere seconds before rushing water could fully drag him under, the elder Fire’s words washed over the man soothingly. Her offering of assistance grounded him, steadied his equilibrium enough to straighten his posture from its weakened appearance and stand on his own two feet. Hastily he stood aside from the entrance, allowing the Talon room to maneuver into the dwelling freely. “Thanks,” Mannix muttered quietly as the dark plated dragoness padded gently towards her daughter. He raked fingers through tousled golden locks, watching the proceedings with a mixture of mingled relief and anxious tension. Aquila didn’t budge, head still stretched over limp talons while fiery eyes lay burnt out and unfocused, staring diffusedly at a fixed crevice in the stone walls beyond the silver curved claws of her mother. The charcoal matriarch’s rousing proclamation seemed to elicit no reaction, as if words had fallen on deaf ears. Lessons… The word seemed to drag her deeper beneath the self-invoked current, glazing her golden irises over even more. Futile… Disjointed words scraped forth from the growing Fire’s parched throat, seemingly aimed at no one in particular, merely the mindless muttering of a lost soul, “I… I failed…” |
![]() |
|
| Zinc | Jan 2 2014, 04:17 PM Post #5 |
![]()
The Owl Waife
![]()
|
Aquila’s state was apparently worse than Anamchara had immediately realized. She had hoped that at least her presence and her words that she had something to teach her daughter might elicit some kind of reaction. This was a child who strove with a powerful ambition to gain strength and knowledge so that she might rise above her peers and prove herself worthy of her legacy that had been set before her by Anamchara and Dhruva both, and yet, nothing. She was still, like a flame that had long since guttered out leaving stagnant wisps of smoke curling idly through air in its wake. The dark Fire studied her daughter as she paced a few steps into the line of her sight before realizing that in of itself was not going to help. She was seeing things that were not there, focused on something far away that Anamchara herself could not see. She blew a breath from her nose, a few sparks escaping along with the warm gust of a sigh as she raised her eyes to the ceiling, thinking a moment, wishing actually, that she could figure out how to apply her mother’s own rousing to this situation. Anamchara had been a little less conflicted with her failure, that and her mother had been quite insistent on dragging her out of her barracks. She had pep for an Air, she still had to give her mother that. It was often a wonder how her own father had managed to catch and handle her at all without losing his patience entirely. ”I… I failed…” The younger Fire’s voice was hopeless, defeated, and the old veteran felt her heart go out to her. Ana turned possibilities over in her mind before she settled upon one. Her posture changed, and she felt her spine stiffen as plates began to raise, bright oranges dying to white-hot near the tips as they took on a faint illumination in the dimness of the room. Her eyes, a warm purple a few moments ago turned to hard chips of amethyst. She had assumed the cold posture of the commander, the Talon that lead armies to battle, and taught the stubborn and willful to follow her rule. “Up, Aquila.” She stated again, in a firm tone. “You will follow me out to Nyushi of your own will, or so help me I will grab you by your tail and drag you the entire way, ruining whatever shred of dignity you have left.” Her tones did not change from the stiff formality that she had began with, no rise or fall of anger, merely the hanging promise that if something did not change and did not change soon, then she would have little issue with taking things into her own claws. Daughter or no daughter, she would get through to the child somehow, and she would teach her how to take the sky as her own so that she might flourish alongside Mannix. |
![]() |
|
| Seiss | Feb 5 2014, 03:44 AM Post #6 |
|
Gyrfalcon- geddit right bud, or you is food.
|
OOC: Excuse me, pardon me... *shoves into the thread* If the paperwork piled up twice as high for his rider, then the same was required of him in the manner of physical exertions and counsel. Things did not end with the war. They have only begun what the Academy fought for in the past decades. It was by far the most challenging phase the Fire had to endure. The idea of accepting Taints, entertaining truce and even going so far as to extend them aid was not what Dhruva bargained for when he committed himself to fight the decades old war. A great sigh expanded his chest as he padded through the outskirts of the Wrymling Barracks. Not today, he wouldn’t dwell on the piling issues, or the lack of his rider’s support on his views. He missed his mate, even though it had only been a week or so, and he missed catching glimpses of the young spitfire that was theirs. The dawn air felt cool breezing under the thick of his coat, though it made the healed wound at this thigh ache mildly. Heedless of curious looks and staring from the young residents, the flaxen Fire strolled through the Barracks, a behemoth among the growing wrymlings. Fortunately for him, it was still early and the younglings have only begun to rise. A spined ear flicked when it caught familiar voices drifting from the windows just a few strides away. Silver eyes blinked and one great paw treaded a step forward. “Please. She’s been like this since the lesson… and I don’t know what to do.” He knew the youthful tenor of that voice. Puzzlement tilted his head and separated the plates of his crest as he listened more closely. It took no time to identify the second speaker, but the tone of her voice turned his expected delight to one of concern. Did something happen to Aquila? Intuition told him announcing his presence might not be for the best yet. He stood still, tucked away from sight by the towering walls and brought his ears forward. From the first dew days of her birth, Dhruva found himself a little stunned by Aquila’s immediate leap to reach the militant expectations if she were to choose such a path. From her shell she sprung as though forged for battle, determined to meet some invisible height she thought would uphold the pride she was born with. It wasn’t until that moment did the veteran consider the weight the hatchling might shoulder if station, fame and power were all she saw. The luxury of time wasn’t something the Fire enjoyed due to recent turn of events and hand't been able to follow Aquila's progress as closely as he liked. He was growing uneasy when no one voiced exactly what it was bothering the young dragoness. He stayed firm and silent, however, unwilling to disrupt his mate’s stern handling just yet. Perhaps she could reach past the defeat in the youngling’s spirit. Failures were no strangers in his days of youth. Soon Aquila will learn that too. |
![]() |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Dense Jungle · Next Topic » |

Player Guide
News Portal
Members
Calender
Gold Shop






5:41 PM Jul 10