Shattered Prisms
Posted: Sun Dec 06, 2020 1:30 pm
((Sharians = Kysalians/Kys now! A renaming that's a ways overdue XD;;
I haven't been able to draw Sams but I have been thinking about them a lot, so it's back to writing for the time being!))
--
He had failed.
Glint of the Ice Prism sighed heavily as he looked out over his small domain from his vantage on the cliff. The hot spring that formed the heart of the Song’s home sent tendrils of steam into the cold winter air, empty now as the mares foraged among the forest trees for food. The structure of the Expedition Headquarters loomed tall and silent over the hot spring’s clearing, unlit and empty. The Kysalian was not at home, then.
It all looked so fine.
Footsteps startled Glint from his reverie and he whirled around to greet his visitor. It was not one of the mares, as he had expected.
“Sliver,” he said, watching the newcomer warily.
Sliver of Broken Prism was still gaunt, but his rainbow mane and tail had grown during his months at the Song of the Rainbow Hotspring and shone with health in the morning light. Tufts of his former Mystic strands even puffed out from behind his ears, giving his face a youthful look at odds with the rest of him. He picked his way carefully over the frost-slicked stones that littered the cliff top, towards Glint.
“Brother,” Sliver said, bobbing his head in greeting before coming to stand Glint.
Glint tensed and shifted away. “I am not your brother.”
Sliver laughed. “I know you’ve remembered. I have too. And now look at us, the hope of our birth-Song, the hope of Samanayrs everywhere. We would stop the Flood, and instead we are in the thrall of the Kysalians.”
The silence between them stretched into minutes as Glint tried to come up with a response.
“I knew this would happen,” Sliver said at last, as Glint remained silent. “The Kys are a resourceful people, they know how to get what they want. And what they want, what they NEED, is us.”
Glint sighed. He knew it was true, but it was hard to face the reality of their situation.
--
((More to come soon!))
I haven't been able to draw Sams but I have been thinking about them a lot, so it's back to writing for the time being!))
--
He had failed.
Glint of the Ice Prism sighed heavily as he looked out over his small domain from his vantage on the cliff. The hot spring that formed the heart of the Song’s home sent tendrils of steam into the cold winter air, empty now as the mares foraged among the forest trees for food. The structure of the Expedition Headquarters loomed tall and silent over the hot spring’s clearing, unlit and empty. The Kysalian was not at home, then.
It all looked so fine.
Footsteps startled Glint from his reverie and he whirled around to greet his visitor. It was not one of the mares, as he had expected.
“Sliver,” he said, watching the newcomer warily.
Sliver of Broken Prism was still gaunt, but his rainbow mane and tail had grown during his months at the Song of the Rainbow Hotspring and shone with health in the morning light. Tufts of his former Mystic strands even puffed out from behind his ears, giving his face a youthful look at odds with the rest of him. He picked his way carefully over the frost-slicked stones that littered the cliff top, towards Glint.
“Brother,” Sliver said, bobbing his head in greeting before coming to stand Glint.
Glint tensed and shifted away. “I am not your brother.”
Sliver laughed. “I know you’ve remembered. I have too. And now look at us, the hope of our birth-Song, the hope of Samanayrs everywhere. We would stop the Flood, and instead we are in the thrall of the Kysalians.”
The silence between them stretched into minutes as Glint tried to come up with a response.
“I knew this would happen,” Sliver said at last, as Glint remained silent. “The Kys are a resourceful people, they know how to get what they want. And what they want, what they NEED, is us.”
Glint sighed. He knew it was true, but it was hard to face the reality of their situation.
--
((More to come soon!))
I love reading these. Yes, please, keep it coming! Ive been writing my book so I understand the writing bug.