Who Am I?, I knew yesterday, but I'm not certain...

[Larka]

Aislinn smiled as she saw the black stallion look up. All her hard work would be worth it if this stallion could reveal Darkmane’s situation to her. She had never been one to pray but her desire for Darkmane to be well was such that she called upon the higher power frequently. All her good intentions were focused on the unicorn. The force of her dedication and loyalty had driven her search for countless moons. Now before her stood the link to finding him and her anticipation was in every heartbeat within her chest.

The next moments were ones she had never expected to happen. As she moved closer to the stallion, a transformation began. Aislinn watched in amazement as the black stallion became her lost companion. At first she thought it was her vision playing tricks, and then she held her breath as she watched the ebony mane shift in color.

She closed her eyes for a moment as her eyes blurred with tears. When she opened them again she was smiling, a rare act for her.

“Darkmane.”

The syllables of his name contained more emotion then she had ever put into one word in her life. An apology, her gratitude and happiness all showed through plainly in both her tone and expression. Without thinking she took a step towards the pair. As quickly as she made the move, she regretted it. Both of the mare and Darkmane reared. Startled, Aislinn stepped back.

“Dark! It’s me.”

She tried to make her body language as un-intimidating as possible as she watched them. What had happened to Darkmane? Why didn’t he know her anymore? And why was he a wild stallion instead of the unicorn she had known. All the questions whirled around in her mind.

Then the battle cry of the mare pulled her sharply back to reality. The werewolf took a few hasty steps of retreat as the mare advanced and then stopped. If she was ever going to get close to Darkmane, she would have to bear this mare’s wrath. She would not lose Darkmane again.

[Dark]

Again and again he tried, and again and again he failed. The comforting shade of ebony would not return to his mane, and the flailing stallion failed to notice much of the events surrounding him while he tried to make it… until Aislinn approached him.

Fear, pure unadulterated fear shot through his veins at her words. Yet, at the same time, he did not rear, did not move even to attack his mane again. Ears flat against his skull, the purple-maned horse stared at her. Nervously, he tried to shift his gaze back to his love who was now fervently trying to fight Aislinn off for him.

Gently, perhaps without her noticing, the tiny threads that composed the gift that Imirhein gave Aislinn unwound, spinning around her wrist in a small circle of golden light before floating towards Surial. Hovering just above his forehead, they did little for a moment, just long enough for his brown eyes to look in their direction.

Abruptly, they all hung taut in the air, slowly twisting around in a spiral as, gently, a brilliant silver light began to trickle down like mercury from the very top where they had just begun to link together. Terror held Surial in his arms as the stallion had to watch this frightening scene unfold onto his very head as, very quickly, each of the Goddess’ hairs hooked into his head, then pierced his very skull.

Almost immediately, his head felt very heavy, as if someone had just dropped a five pound weight on top of it and, to top it off, pain began its wearying dance across his senses, ravaging what little sanity and alertness he had.

With an excruciating cry, the final stages of his little transformation began as, with four little ‘cracks’, his hooves split apart to form their cloven counterparts. Groaning, the thing on his head began to get noticeably brighter as the now hardened amethyst alicorn began glowing.

Instinctively, Surial closed his eyes only to get another rude surprise. His eyes felt unnaturally hot, as if someone had set a torch to them. Shaking his head, the pain disappeared, but when he opened his eyes, he looked on the world with subtle flames in the depth of his formerly dull brown eyes. Looking back at his tail, he winced as the ebon fibers fell out onto the ground, his short tailbone extending as purple hairs grew at its tip, creating a long tasseled tail.

Shifting on his hooves, the stallion looked at Aislinn again for a moment before his eyes narrowed at her in a glare.

“YOU! This is YOUR doing!” his first words were a scream before his mental voice projection became that of a terrified child’s whisper as the stallion looked over his side. “But… what have you done to me? This is not me… who am I?”

[Larka]

Aithne watched Surial in confusion, her movements stilling through shock. She could make no sense of the situation and this woman. Who was she and why was she having such an effect on Surial? Her confusion was amplified by his cries of pain. Aithne wanted to go to his side but fear kept her back.

Despite her love for Surial, she could not understand what was occurring. Aithne looked over his new form, recalling the stories of such mythics. How had she never known? She kept her silence, remaining motionless so she wouldn’t attract attention to herself. Whatever was occurring was beyond her understanding and therefore her ability to interrupt.

((ugh))

[Larka]

When the strands of Imirhein’s hair left her, Aislinn watched in anticipation. She trusted the Goddess however and stood by in silence. Aislinn watched the change in Darkmane with relief. A deep peace settled over her soul, Darkmane was alive and restored to his proper form. His pain was not something she welcomed but she hoped that he would feel that it was worth it.

Her expression changed to surprise however as his fury turned to her. Aislinn took a step back, her eyes widening fearfully. Darkmane had only ever spoken angry words to her once before and in all truth she had earned the rebuke for her insanity. She hardly felt she deserved such treatment now however. When his tone turned to a whisper, her heart wrenched with guilt. She had brought such suffering to him.

“I’m sorry, I never meant to hurt you.”

Her own voice was a whisper, revealing the guilt she felt. Her expression reflected the emotional pain she felt. When he asked what and who he was, she frowned in confusion. Had he forgotten his glorious purity? The fact that he was a child of the moonlight, blessed and cursed once?

“Darkmane, this is you. Something changed you, but this is who you really are. You are more then just a stallion; you’re a child of the moon, a unicorn.”

Aislinn took a step towards him, wanting to comfort him. She glanced towards the mare warily but the mare seemed willing to stand passively nearby.

“Do you remember anything that happened?”

She said, looking him over and then making eye contact with him again. Aislinn thought of his cave and the purple etching on the wall, if only his home was close so he would witness the memories again.

[Dark]

Doubt mingled with the rising fear in the stallion’s veins as the reality of his situation struck him, specifically when he looked down at his own shadow. No longer was even that what he knew. He shook his head and shied away from the shadow, hoping desperately that perhaps things would go back to the way they were… back to the starlit nights that were consumed with no other thoughts other than Aithne and himself and the simple joys of being alive and with the one he loved more than life itself.

But, reluctantly, he noted that the shadow followed him with every step. This split-hooved, horned creature was who he was now, just as Aislinn said. Yet, the delusional human said that this was who he really was? He looked up at her and shook his head, snorting. She had to be jesting or mad! A unicorn does not simply turn into a horse or vice versa! The very thought was madness! He was a stallion, a horse, not this strange creature that he saw in his shadow!

Slowly, he reluctantly walked towards his mate, nuzzling her briefly and giving her a few tender nips across her cheek and neck, praying that she would not move away from him. A few moments later, he looked at Aislinn again and began to speak.

“I do not even know who you are, but somehow I do know your name, Aislinn. You have been haunting my dreams for the past few days and I do not know why. Why do you haunt me, ghost-maned human? I am certain that this is the first time I have seen you in all my years, yet I knew what you looked like. Why? Is that another of your tricks as well? Are you a magicker of some sort?”

He looked down at his now cloven hooves again, sighing gently. Things would never be the same for either himself or his mate, would they? How could they be? He was no longer the same creature that she had met that day so long ago… instead of his dominating sense of self-consciousness, he now looked like a shadow of what he once was. His parents would have been displeased… this was –far- from the perfection they demanded of their foal.

“How can this be what I really am? My sire and dam were both normal… my mate is normal… our filly is normal… how can I not be normal? How can I be this… this thing? This ‘moon child’ that you speak of… how can I possibly be that when I have never even known one in my life? Would they not run in herds as we do, tasting the wind in their manes, all as one?”

Snorting again, the stallion draped his head over his mate’s, longing for her affectionate touch, his security in this world of sudden, unwelcome change.

~Surial

[Larka]

Aithne held fast, locked within her stead fast devotion. She had stood by his side through trial and tribulation; and she would not abandon him now. Despite the torment of the change in him lately, she knew from her unbridled urge to protect him, that she still loved him. So to reassure him she nipped him affectionately, exhaling against tender skin. Nothing will take me from you. My protection and heart are yours for all time. The small mare thought passionately, longing for him to hear her unspoken vow. Though he would likely never hear her speak the words, she made her intentions known through her actions. As she stood there, an old energy sparked to life within her. It started at the core of her essence, spreading out to her limbs like wildfire. Vigor restored in her as a new sense of purpose overtook her. With new meaning came new potential, and with the stubborn pride of her western heritage, she would endure. When he longed for her touch, she answered. Aithne leaned against him, lending her strength to support him. Gently, she nuzzled against him, a constant reminder of her devotion. Still comforting him, Aithne listened to him speak, her gaze then turning to Aislinn to await her response.

[Larka]

		Aislinn watched Darkmane’s movements, dismayed by his disbelief and reluctance to accept his true form. Disappointment made her eyes sting with tears. It seemed that even though she had found her friend, he was still lost. Her despair was only deepened by his admission that he could not recall her. Stubbornly she blinked the tears from her eyes; calling upon her stubborn will to iron clad her determination. She had sworn to restore her friend to his former glory. And although his form was true, his mind still bore the scars, leaving her vow unfilled. By the vow of friendship, she knew she had to bring him back to his full potential. To have him understand the loss he had suffered…and the wrongs she had committed against him. But with that thought she hesitated. Clearly he did not remember what had befallen him that fateful night. Perhaps restoring his form was enough. With the understanding of what he truly was, he could begin anew. Honesty forced her away from that consideration however. Either way he would suffer, at least she could afford to be truthful. With a soft sigh of defeat, she spoke. “There is no trick, for I am no magicker. The Goddess, Imirhein, granted me strands of her hair, they are what restored you to your true form. I do not know why I have haunted your dreams, but I know I have searched for you for countless years.” Her eyes widened in surprised as he enquired about his kin. Had he truly forgotten, or was he just unwilling to acknowledge the memories? Perhaps this had all been a guise to hide from her? “You belong to the unicorn brethren, Darkmane. Some form of enchantment was placed upon you, changing both your form and memories. But believe me when I say you are truly a unicorn – and the most noble among them. And yes, they live similar lives to your current one. But they reside in a magic filled grove.” She took a moment to breathe. Shame threatened to make her turn away but she stood her ground; her heart beginning to break freshly as she spoke again. “I came to claim responsibly for that fateful night that was your downfall. I vowed to ensure your safety, so hence I am here. Your trusted me once before my friend. Will you trust me again?”

[Dark]

The stallion pulled back for a moment, looking at Aithne abruptly right after her thoughts left her mind. He blinked his now fiery eyes, shaking his head for a moment. Surely… surely he had to be dreaming. Did she figure out a way to communicate with him?! Slowly, he calmed himself down, laying his neck back over hers calmly for a moment longer, whickering softly.

“Aithne… no matter what happens to me, I will never allow you to come to harm. If death comes to call me, so long as you still draw breath, I will not allow myself to leave… my body, heart, mind, and soul are yours for the taking. You have only but to ask… I would spend the whole of eternity with you under the stars if it would keep you happy.” He sighed softly, finishing his thought before a steely resolve came to him.

If he was a unicorn… didn’t unicorns have magical powers or something? Couldn’t he use them to figure out how to let Aithne live like him… with him… for all time? If she wanted to, he would stop at nothing to find out exactly how.

Then, abruptly, his gaze went distant.

It was foggy… there was some sort of haze. Smoke danced in a circle around misted pools, a flame burning in a perfect circle around a clearing. A single white unicorn stared at him. He was sure he had never seen her in his life, but something in her gaze looked familiar to him.

“Wake up, Exile Shadowhoof. Wake up, Darkmane.” her words resonated in his mind, forcing him to blink a moment, his thoughts returning to the moment.

His gaze passed to Aislinn for a moment, realization beginning to dawn on him. He remembered her... vaguely.

“There was a wall.. of plants. There were roses growing out of it. We were waiting for a good while for something, Aislinn…. My name… is Darkmane Shadowhoof…. And I am an Exile? What did I do to be exiled, Aislinn?”

Thinking a moment, the stallion shook his head.

“No.. this is lunacy… my name is Surial. Despite how I look, I am a normal stallion… I have never known any unicorns personally… and I have a beautiful mate and a lovely filly. This “Darkmane” is a lie… a cruel lie that is being played on me. I refuse to believe it.”

Yet… if it is real, you can try to spend an eternity with Aithne… all you have to do is figure it out..

The stallion sighed, then looked at Aislinn again, beaten by his own logic.

“Very well, Aislinn… I will trust you. What can you tell me of Darkmane… I mean… myself?”

~Darkmane/Surial

This post has been edited by Dark on Apr 10 2009, 04:32 PM

[Larka]

Aithne listened to Surial’s words with concern in her eyes. She hated the thought of his death. His willingness to self sacrifice disturbed her. The thought of living without him was too difficult to consider and she knew she would stop drawing breath shortly after him. She didn’t share her thoughts however, not daring to expose him to the same emotions. Instead she stood quietly, looking up at him while waiting for the human’s explanation. Uncertainty about their future tumbled within her, but she waited patiently.

[Larka]

		Aislinn nodded slightly as Darkmane spoke, remembering the old memories and his name. Her expression darkened into an angry scowl as he made mention of being an exile. The verdict had always woken a bitter resentment inside her for the treatment Darkmane had endured. “Your kin called you an exile, although I have never agreed with their decision. You were exiled because of a friendship you forged with a young boy.” She listened to the Darkmane’s denial with a growing pit in her stomach. Aislinn was about to object when he changed his mind again about the plausibility of what she had to say. At his inquiry for information she sighed softly. “It is a long tale and one I fine difficult to recount. Please, make yourself comfortable.” As she spoke, she knelt to the ground, folding her legs under her and resting her hands on her knees. Her back was rigid and her shoulder pulled back tensely as she prepared herself for the story. Aislinn took a deep breath, preparing to throw herself back in the horrors of their shared history. “We met years ago when we were both held captive at a slave auction. We managed to escape together and formed a friendship. I do not know why, but you disappeared for many months. In that time, I…..I gave into madness. My wolven side took over and I began killing.” Aislinn took a deep breath, her face burning with shame as she relieved the shameful memories of her hunts. “You found me at my worst and tried to reason with me. I attacked you and you were infected with werewolf venom. It was soon after that when your kindred found us and escorted us to a Tribunal to sentence me for the crime of partaking of your blood. The Tribunal took place during the full moon, so naturally we both turned. We were separated and I have been searching for you ever since. I swore I would mend the wrong I committed against you for you have been my only true friend in life.” She bent forward, bowing so her forehead touched the cool grass as tears slid down her pale cheeks. Her body trembled anew with the relieved pain of the memories. “I can not be certain whether or not the venom still flows in your blood. If it does, on the full moon you will become a danger to your mate. In the grip of the full moon you may even kill her against your sane mind’s will.” She spoke only loud enough for her words to carry to him. A ragged exhale escaped her lips and she forced herself to sit up. Aislinn looked at him with a composed expression despite the tear’s trail that still glistened on her cheek. “I do not ask for your pardon but I would accept your wrath deservingly. There is one way to cure the werewolf infection for certain…if you kill the one who infected you, you will be cured…” Aislinn let the implications of the knowledge hang in the air, waiting for his verdict.

This post has been edited by Larka on Apr 23 2009, 07:47 PM