Poison did not grow in the body alone: the most dangerous of poisons took root in the mind. And both Sol and Morgan had their own poisons, Titan sadly knew. One was a very physical thing that had all the same dug itself deep into Morgan's spirit, while the other was an affliction of the mind in Sol that had all the same begun to take its toll on her body, with her endless pacing, her irritability, her moments of anger and flashes of distrust.
It was Sol he worried for more: Morgan needed healing, but that healing he trusted would come in time, and it was not the poisons he worried taking power over her, but rather, the power itself. He knew his little sister well, and that even if the substance was what had unlocked this door, what she loved most was power: not in the way Sol did, but in a darker, and perhaps crueler way. In a way that sometimes made him afraid for what she might become, if such lusts were not tempered.
Sol, however, had always seen things through the lenses of the poison that bubbled and boiled away in her mind, and it led her back to making the same decisions she regretted, again and again. He admired his sister for her strength, her fearlessness, her tenacity, her dedication to her cause... but he feared, too, where those things would take her as well. Sol did not back down. Sol did not show mercy, unless it was begged and pleaded for by himself and Morgan. Sol did not know that love was something you tried to share with the world, not just your own family. And Sol, he knew, would not hesitate to sacrifice anything and everything that she saw as a threat. Perhaps, sadly, even her own kin, if they became something she saw as 'enemy.'
For that was Sol's poison: absolutes. That there was absolute good, and absolute evil. That darkness and light had to be at either end of the scale, always opposed. That night was one thing, and day another; how was it that for someone so strong, so smart, so dedicated, Sol could not see nor understand that these beautiful things shared the same sky?
It made him sad. It hurt his heart. Sol could become so much more than she was, if only she would learn that life was not lived in extremes and absolutes: that she was imprisoning herself, endangering herself, with the way she struggled to make every event an all-or-nothing gambit.
Titan knew there were poisons in the minds of both his siblings, but even if Morgan seemed to be in the greatest danger, he knew that it was Sol who was suffering most. Perhaps it was Morgan's poisons that had brought Sol's own toxic thoughts back into her mind. It made him hurt to think of how Sol railed on Morgan for 'weakness,' while not recognizing the vulnerability of her own self.
Titan hurt, because his siblings hurt. And yet he knew there was only so much he could do. Ultimately, they had to find their own way, he knew. He could only try and help them along the path, and be there to catch them, should they stumble or fall. And he would be, as much as possible, for he loved his siblings, and would do anything for them, anything to see them safe.
And Titan knew, in his heart of hearts, that when the day came, he would give his life to keep them safe. He only hoped that they would remember the few lessons he had to teach, and remember above all else to take care of each other.
For even if they both suffered and hurt under the ache of their own poisons, Titan knew that sometimes there was no better cure for one's own ailments than helping another with theirs.
Friday 31 July 2015
Friday 24 July 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Teeth
At some point, all of us have to choose to fight for something. All of us reach a point where we can no longer be pushed, where the choice is to either lose what makes us, us, and become slaves, or to discover that there is a piece of us, a part of us, that cannot be bought, that cannot be crushed, that cannot be traded away for any price. Ultimately, we all have something we would give our lives for; ultimately, we all have something we would sell our very souls to protect.
Morgan had never truly felt that before, but she was beginning to experience that now. Even if, in every other way, the poison she had started to take was taking a terrible toll on her, at the same time it made her come to a realization: she had to be more than just Sol's puppet. She had to be more than just Sol's good little sister sometimes, and she had to stand up for herself.
She was learning this for all the wrong reasons, but all the same, she was learning. And while it caused great friction, Morgan had at least begun to stand up for herself... even if for the wrong things. Titan wanted to be proud of her, but his fear for her, and where this path would take her, overwhelmed any pride or joy he might have felt.
Sol, however, was disappointed by her sister's refusal to fall in line. She thought it was an ill omen, of bad things to come. She thought that it meant that Morgan was beginning to descend into the darkness, the place where she would inevitably fall. She thought many things, all of them cruel, many of them unfair.
Yet all the same, Sol did not act: Sol instead blamed Veliuona, even if she knew their true target had to be the cult that had attacked them. And she went so far as to threaten the Blood Seer to stay away from her sister, even though he and Morgan rarely spoke, and she did not even know that the Blood Seer could artificially produce serums very similar to the dragon's blood that Morgan lusted after.
Her Paladin was no help on either front: he was too cowardly to stand up to Sol, and too weak to resist Morgan's pleas, sneaking her vials of the crimson concoction she so desired, acting as a mule, and perhaps enjoying the attention and affection she gave him as a result. He felt there was little he could do... and he was not wiling to resist her, in any event. In a way, he liked her taking charge, he liked feeling free of responsibility, and without a doubt, he loved the affection the mare heaped upon him in exchange for her 'needs.'
And yet, while inwardly they quarreled, outwardly, the group of heroes fought off brigands, defeated monsters, and chased the cult halfway across the nation without fear or hesitation. They were strong, determined, worked as one together: there was no foe that could stand against their might, especially with Morgan made so ruthlessly strong by the poisons she was taking.
But all the same, their inner fractures were what would lead these mighty heroes to failure and ruin.
Morgan had never truly felt that before, but she was beginning to experience that now. Even if, in every other way, the poison she had started to take was taking a terrible toll on her, at the same time it made her come to a realization: she had to be more than just Sol's puppet. She had to be more than just Sol's good little sister sometimes, and she had to stand up for herself.
She was learning this for all the wrong reasons, but all the same, she was learning. And while it caused great friction, Morgan had at least begun to stand up for herself... even if for the wrong things. Titan wanted to be proud of her, but his fear for her, and where this path would take her, overwhelmed any pride or joy he might have felt.
Sol, however, was disappointed by her sister's refusal to fall in line. She thought it was an ill omen, of bad things to come. She thought that it meant that Morgan was beginning to descend into the darkness, the place where she would inevitably fall. She thought many things, all of them cruel, many of them unfair.
Yet all the same, Sol did not act: Sol instead blamed Veliuona, even if she knew their true target had to be the cult that had attacked them. And she went so far as to threaten the Blood Seer to stay away from her sister, even though he and Morgan rarely spoke, and she did not even know that the Blood Seer could artificially produce serums very similar to the dragon's blood that Morgan lusted after.
Her Paladin was no help on either front: he was too cowardly to stand up to Sol, and too weak to resist Morgan's pleas, sneaking her vials of the crimson concoction she so desired, acting as a mule, and perhaps enjoying the attention and affection she gave him as a result. He felt there was little he could do... and he was not wiling to resist her, in any event. In a way, he liked her taking charge, he liked feeling free of responsibility, and without a doubt, he loved the affection the mare heaped upon him in exchange for her 'needs.'
And yet, while inwardly they quarreled, outwardly, the group of heroes fought off brigands, defeated monsters, and chased the cult halfway across the nation without fear or hesitation. They were strong, determined, worked as one together: there was no foe that could stand against their might, especially with Morgan made so ruthlessly strong by the poisons she was taking.
But all the same, their inner fractures were what would lead these mighty heroes to failure and ruin.
Friday 17 July 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Taste
She needed the dragon's blood. Needed it, more than she'd needed anything before in her life. It gave her strength, it gave her power, it gave her pleasure... it took away her fear. It made everything alright, just as it had also made her realize how long it had been since things had truly been okay: too long, she thought bitterly. It was no wonder the Paladin was afraid all the time, that they were always fighting or arguing. It was Sol's fault, for dragging them along on this quest, and not preparing them, not letting them rest.
Morgan didn't think Sol understood how good the dragon's blood was: suddenly, she understood why the cultists had used it to make themselves stronger, and why so many other mages and warriors had relied on what she'd considered to be weakness in the past. But that has been from a lack of understanding, before she had known or realized what power it provided. How it stabilized her, and brought out the hidden strength inside her, and numbed the pain; what was bad about any of that?
And she wasn't weak, weak like she knew so many of those cultists had been. She was strong enough to keep herself in check, strong enough to swallow the side effects, strong enough with the dragon's blood that she could take on the world and resist any unpleasant changes. She wouldn't become an addict, or weak. She didn't have any problems with relying on poisons. It simply benefited her, and it was here, and right now... she needed... no, wanted it. She didn't need it, of course, it just... made things easier.
Morgan didn't think Sol understood that. That was fine, though: she was strong enough that she didn't need to rely on Sol. And if Sol was just going to hold it against her, patronize her, treat her like she was weak, then that was fine as well. She would prove her strength to Sol.
Titan, of course, was very quiet about the whole thing, but Morgan thought nothing of it. There were other things to attend to, and she knew that the journey had worn on Titan as well. He wasn't worried about her. Why should he be worried for her? She was strong.
She was strong, and she wouldn't give this up, just because Sol wanted her to. When she had it taken away, it had hurt so much, every pain of the world had become so clear to her... no, she would hold on to this for now. And besides, the power the dragon's blood gave her was the power they needed to smite back their foes. And now, with it in her veins, she could almost sense where the other cultists were... with their stores of that precious elixir.
She would prove to Sol she was stronger this way than without it. She would hunt down the cult, reap through them like the whirlwind, and take their treasures. She would take revenge and gain bounty, all in one fell swoop.
She was not weak.
Morgan didn't think Sol understood how good the dragon's blood was: suddenly, she understood why the cultists had used it to make themselves stronger, and why so many other mages and warriors had relied on what she'd considered to be weakness in the past. But that has been from a lack of understanding, before she had known or realized what power it provided. How it stabilized her, and brought out the hidden strength inside her, and numbed the pain; what was bad about any of that?
And she wasn't weak, weak like she knew so many of those cultists had been. She was strong enough to keep herself in check, strong enough to swallow the side effects, strong enough with the dragon's blood that she could take on the world and resist any unpleasant changes. She wouldn't become an addict, or weak. She didn't have any problems with relying on poisons. It simply benefited her, and it was here, and right now... she needed... no, wanted it. She didn't need it, of course, it just... made things easier.
Morgan didn't think Sol understood that. That was fine, though: she was strong enough that she didn't need to rely on Sol. And if Sol was just going to hold it against her, patronize her, treat her like she was weak, then that was fine as well. She would prove her strength to Sol.
Titan, of course, was very quiet about the whole thing, but Morgan thought nothing of it. There were other things to attend to, and she knew that the journey had worn on Titan as well. He wasn't worried about her. Why should he be worried for her? She was strong.
She was strong, and she wouldn't give this up, just because Sol wanted her to. When she had it taken away, it had hurt so much, every pain of the world had become so clear to her... no, she would hold on to this for now. And besides, the power the dragon's blood gave her was the power they needed to smite back their foes. And now, with it in her veins, she could almost sense where the other cultists were... with their stores of that precious elixir.
She would prove to Sol she was stronger this way than without it. She would hunt down the cult, reap through them like the whirlwind, and take their treasures. She would take revenge and gain bounty, all in one fell swoop.
She was not weak.
Friday 10 July 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Deathsiege
The dead surrounded the town on all sides, clawing at the walls and crowding in on the gates, their groans echoing through the air as they laid siege to the town from every direction. They were not like Veliuona's minions, moving with their own minds and tenacious will, but rather, they were puppets: nothing but an army of husks, the pawns of some superior mastermind.
Sol wanted to blame Veliuona for this. But she knew that the blame rested with the leader of the cult... even if more and more, Sol suspected the dark goddess' hoof in these affairs. But she had no proof, and there was nothing she could say to convince Titan... and Morgan was in no shape to fight, or to even discuss the subject. She was simply in agony, trapped in bed, whimpering for the poison that had infected her veins.
Titan was gullible, and Morgan was... weak. She couldn't rely on either of them at this juncture. Titan would always give others chances they didn't deserve, and Morgan... couldn't make any decisions.
The Paladin pleaded with Sol, but Sol didn't care about his opinions, any more than she cared about the suggestions made by the Blood Seer. What she cared about was that they repelled this attack by the shambling pawns, found whatever was controlling them, and then preferably destroyed that source after extracting enough information from it to know who was the mastermind behind these orders.
She knew the walls wouldn't hold forever, and this town had no appreciable militia. All she could do was rally the ponies, get them to the largest and easiest-defended structures, and tell the families to watch out for one another while she and Titan and the Blood Seer went out to meet the ravening horde. Morgan they had no choice but to leave behind, with the Paladin looking after her, caught in the throes of agony.
The enemy was not strong, being a horde of puppeted corpses controlled by dark magic, but they were vast and many: they pressed in with weight of numbers, and there was little they could do to stop them. All the same, Titan and Sol fought onward, even with the odds against them, as they forced their foes into a bottleneck of barricades to try and give themselves the advantage.
Morgan wanted to help... but was helpless, consumed with pain, and need and desire. And her Paladin was weak, and her Paladin was afraid, and her Paladin heard her pleas and soon forgot the promises he had made to not give her the deadly stuff she needed. Instead, he stole into the room Sol had been using to research the cult and their poisons, and took from it a vial of the dragon's blood, ignoring the warnings and heedless of his own guilt as he hurried to his love's side.
Morgan drank it, deeply and greedily, and became consumed again by the fire of the dragon's blood. With it burning in her veins, she leapt up with newfound strength and vigor, but where she ran first was not to her siblings' side, but to Sol's study, to steal away more of the poison, to feed her need and hunger. Her Paladin she all but forgot in her ecstasy, as she fed upon the rest of the stolen dragon's blood, then leapt out a window, hungry for the battlefield.
She knew not what happened: Sol and Titan only saw Morgan descend in a blaze of burning glory into the ranks of the undead, cutting through the horde. She tore through their ranks, drawn onward by not the promise of glory, but the reek of the poison she so lusted for. For the cultists, too, kept themselves strong with the drink of dragon's blood, and they stank of it.
She killed them, each and every one, and so overcome with hunger she was, that the last she drank the blood of like fine wine. But when Sol and Titan found her there, she was calmly cleaning her weapons, smiling, proud of herself; unknowing that the proof of her sin was streaked across her own lips.
But Sol saw it. And Sol feared what her sister was becoming, and Sol blamed Veliuona for this atrocity, and swore that she would have her revenge.
Sol wanted to blame Veliuona for this. But she knew that the blame rested with the leader of the cult... even if more and more, Sol suspected the dark goddess' hoof in these affairs. But she had no proof, and there was nothing she could say to convince Titan... and Morgan was in no shape to fight, or to even discuss the subject. She was simply in agony, trapped in bed, whimpering for the poison that had infected her veins.
Titan was gullible, and Morgan was... weak. She couldn't rely on either of them at this juncture. Titan would always give others chances they didn't deserve, and Morgan... couldn't make any decisions.
The Paladin pleaded with Sol, but Sol didn't care about his opinions, any more than she cared about the suggestions made by the Blood Seer. What she cared about was that they repelled this attack by the shambling pawns, found whatever was controlling them, and then preferably destroyed that source after extracting enough information from it to know who was the mastermind behind these orders.
She knew the walls wouldn't hold forever, and this town had no appreciable militia. All she could do was rally the ponies, get them to the largest and easiest-defended structures, and tell the families to watch out for one another while she and Titan and the Blood Seer went out to meet the ravening horde. Morgan they had no choice but to leave behind, with the Paladin looking after her, caught in the throes of agony.
The enemy was not strong, being a horde of puppeted corpses controlled by dark magic, but they were vast and many: they pressed in with weight of numbers, and there was little they could do to stop them. All the same, Titan and Sol fought onward, even with the odds against them, as they forced their foes into a bottleneck of barricades to try and give themselves the advantage.
Morgan wanted to help... but was helpless, consumed with pain, and need and desire. And her Paladin was weak, and her Paladin was afraid, and her Paladin heard her pleas and soon forgot the promises he had made to not give her the deadly stuff she needed. Instead, he stole into the room Sol had been using to research the cult and their poisons, and took from it a vial of the dragon's blood, ignoring the warnings and heedless of his own guilt as he hurried to his love's side.
Morgan drank it, deeply and greedily, and became consumed again by the fire of the dragon's blood. With it burning in her veins, she leapt up with newfound strength and vigor, but where she ran first was not to her siblings' side, but to Sol's study, to steal away more of the poison, to feed her need and hunger. Her Paladin she all but forgot in her ecstasy, as she fed upon the rest of the stolen dragon's blood, then leapt out a window, hungry for the battlefield.
She knew not what happened: Sol and Titan only saw Morgan descend in a blaze of burning glory into the ranks of the undead, cutting through the horde. She tore through their ranks, drawn onward by not the promise of glory, but the reek of the poison she so lusted for. For the cultists, too, kept themselves strong with the drink of dragon's blood, and they stank of it.
She killed them, each and every one, and so overcome with hunger she was, that the last she drank the blood of like fine wine. But when Sol and Titan found her there, she was calmly cleaning her weapons, smiling, proud of herself; unknowing that the proof of her sin was streaked across her own lips.
But Sol saw it. And Sol feared what her sister was becoming, and Sol blamed Veliuona for this atrocity, and swore that she would have her revenge.
Friday 3 July 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Deadly Assumptions
Morgan shivered, wracked with pain and need from the dragon's blood. She hungered for it, lusted for more: that brief taste had given her both pleasure and power beyond measure, and now, without it, her whole body hurt.
They had no choice but to lock her away in her room, her Paladin keeping her company, while Sol researched the cult further and Titan spent his time with the Blood Seer. The Seer had offered his help, but Sol didn't want to take that route yet: not simply because she did not trust the Seer, but also because she thought grimly that it might do Morgan some good to feel the pains of her own actions. She had saved them, certainly... but she had also put herself at great risk, and this was not an experience that Sol wanted to repeat.
Sol's instincts told her they had been betrayed, but she had no evidence, and the cult had vanished from the town. She thought they might be able to track them down... but it would be a waste of time and resources. No, better to find out what she could from the few witnesses to the cult's deeds, and then continue on their quest to discover the root of the Tyrant Wyrms. They couldn't be distracted.
Yet at the same time, something nibbled at her. Why would Veliuona betray them? That didn't make any sense, and Veliuona wasn't foolish. Was she just looking for an excuse to turn the tides of war onto the self-proclaimed goddess of undeath?
But wouldn't it be better to destroy Veliuona when they had the chance?
No, they needed each other to stem the tide of the Tyrant Wyrms. Perhaps this was simply the cunning ploy of another force of darkness and evil, seeking to turn all its enemies against each other so that it could take over Equestria once they had sufficiently weakened one-another...
She would have to research. She would have to figure things out, before she allowed herself to make any moves. Her passion drove her towards revenge, but... no. She couldn't always follow her passions. Sometimes, she had to repress them.
But one thing she knew was that a foe who had worked so hard to kill them would not simply give up the fight because they had failed once. Sol couldn't let this experience repeat itself, though: they had to be ready for when their enemies rose up against them again.
For now, she thought they could afford a few days' rest here in the town. It was unlikely the enemy could return, and Morgan needed to get the dragon's blood out of her system. It had made her powerful, certainly, but a poison was still a poison for all its pleasant effects, and a maddened Morgan was not something Sol could see a use for in the future. If she wanted a hunting dog, she would buy one from a trader.
No, they would wait, that would be safest, Sol thought.
But as it turned out, Sol thought very wrong indeed.
They had no choice but to lock her away in her room, her Paladin keeping her company, while Sol researched the cult further and Titan spent his time with the Blood Seer. The Seer had offered his help, but Sol didn't want to take that route yet: not simply because she did not trust the Seer, but also because she thought grimly that it might do Morgan some good to feel the pains of her own actions. She had saved them, certainly... but she had also put herself at great risk, and this was not an experience that Sol wanted to repeat.
Sol's instincts told her they had been betrayed, but she had no evidence, and the cult had vanished from the town. She thought they might be able to track them down... but it would be a waste of time and resources. No, better to find out what she could from the few witnesses to the cult's deeds, and then continue on their quest to discover the root of the Tyrant Wyrms. They couldn't be distracted.
Yet at the same time, something nibbled at her. Why would Veliuona betray them? That didn't make any sense, and Veliuona wasn't foolish. Was she just looking for an excuse to turn the tides of war onto the self-proclaimed goddess of undeath?
But wouldn't it be better to destroy Veliuona when they had the chance?
No, they needed each other to stem the tide of the Tyrant Wyrms. Perhaps this was simply the cunning ploy of another force of darkness and evil, seeking to turn all its enemies against each other so that it could take over Equestria once they had sufficiently weakened one-another...
She would have to research. She would have to figure things out, before she allowed herself to make any moves. Her passion drove her towards revenge, but... no. She couldn't always follow her passions. Sometimes, she had to repress them.
But one thing she knew was that a foe who had worked so hard to kill them would not simply give up the fight because they had failed once. Sol couldn't let this experience repeat itself, though: they had to be ready for when their enemies rose up against them again.
For now, she thought they could afford a few days' rest here in the town. It was unlikely the enemy could return, and Morgan needed to get the dragon's blood out of her system. It had made her powerful, certainly, but a poison was still a poison for all its pleasant effects, and a maddened Morgan was not something Sol could see a use for in the future. If she wanted a hunting dog, she would buy one from a trader.
No, they would wait, that would be safest, Sol thought.
But as it turned out, Sol thought very wrong indeed.
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