Ethereal Cairn Egg
Looking more like a haunt for the fey or a prehistoric grave-marker, this egg's domed shell is topped with spring-green swatches and crumbles of gravel. One grey line meanders around from the crest of the eggshell to where it meets the sands, a makeshift pathway to a small black hollow that serves as the doorway to another world. The sides of this ancient faerie dwelling are pale against the darker greens and greys, the shade of stone long bleached of its color despite centuries of rain, snow, and sun. Here and there on these alabaster kerbstones, swirled triangles appear in a show of archaic power, adding to the subtle mysticism. They are ever-so-slightly indented to the touch, worn carvings of times and beliefs long passed. One question remains: what being made these marks, and will they effect the dragon within? The egg seems willing to bide its time and find out - it's waited this long, after all…
Aequus Nox starts with a spark, like stone striking flint for the first time. Intuition flares inside of your mind along with the thought that this… this is good. It likes this. It tries it again. Spark. Again. Flash. Again. Glint. Finally something kindles, a single dancing flame setting fire to so much curiosity that the mind inside this egg just might go up in smoke! But this… this is progress! No longer will it be dark and cold at night. You know what that's like, don't you?, it seems to wonder, rifling through somber, perhaps bitter memories of time spent alone. Yes… yes it knows this as well. All this time before you, it has been lonely too. But take cheer! Just like it has the warm glow of a roaring fire, it now has you, and by reason, you have it as well, right? Right. It will be okay.
Aequus Nox seems a little warmer this time, were that possible - it's amazing what a touch of another mind can do! Rather than a blazing conflagration, the flames seem to have dwindled to campfire size, the egg's personal radiance overwhelmed by a mysterious glow from beyond. Small rays of this glow shine here and their on your person, picking up bits and pieces of your past as though they were lint, or perhaps flowers. Then… /thump/. It settles down, apparently to content to stay awhile. Forget me. Forget me not. Forget me. Forget me not. Picking carefully through the memoirs, this mind deliberates over each metaphorical petal, keeping the good times and throwing the bad into the fire. Sure, we learn from our mistakes, but we are bolstered by our successes. /Those/ it wishes to focus on. Which moment made you the proudest? And which made you the most ashamed? That last memory? It expects you to toss it into the flame. Be done with it! It is time to move on!
Aequus Nox finally shines in all its glory, like the sun reaching equinox and suddenly illuminating the ancient passageway of its mind. Shadows flee from all sides, and even the dingy, oft-forgotten stones seem to scintillate under the glow of complete patience and understanding. Yes. Despite what it has seen of you so far, /this/ is the potential it expects you to achieve. A destiny of greatness isn't for everyone, but radiance, well… that, it seems to think at you, is for anyone to obtain. Slowly the glow fades, leeching away its solar warmth and shine, but the dark isn't lonely anymore, and never will be again. This isn't goodbye, friend - this is only the beginning. We'll meet again.
Ethereal Cairn egg perhaps crumbles a little, gentle flecks of white standing out against the reddish sands. Then it shakes. Quakes. Violently thrashes. Finally, with one great go, it shatters into itty-bitty pieces, spiraling around a mystical dark green dragon like some kind of faerie dust. The hatchling herself is a magical creature, all long limbs and wild countenance. Sharp edges and overlong 'ridges give her the appearance of something that should flutter away on butterfly wings, but instead, her first step causes her to stumble over too-long pinions. Fey eyes flick to and fro, daring any to comment before she moves on. The heat eventually dissipates the egg goo clinging to her hide, revealing a never-ending tattoo of the same swirls that once graced her egg. The symbols appear to carve deep into her hide, but perhaps that is just a trick of the light, as she is for all appearances healthy, and heading straight towards one candidate in particular. This was the one. "Oh!," Mabonne breathes, one hand pressing to her chest before bowing to wrap her arms around the Mythological Motifs Green, "yes, I am your Mab, Ostarath!" Beaming, the new pair is shortly led off the sands, out to breathe new light into the world.
|Hatched||June 05, 2011|