The Lost Islands
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Falls

Force-claiming is not allowed here. This is a peaceful, neutral area meant for socialising.

and all that was real is left behind

midas

ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for



Midas’s touch seems to have pulled Rowena back to the present. She issues a smile along with a thank you, but the glass in her dark eyes held something much more like sadness. Apparently whoever Midas reminded her of had sent her into a flurry of emotions. He doesn’t want to ask more about the mystery stallion though he was curious to know more.

’I’m from the Peak.’ Midas hears those words and peers a little closer at his companion. She doesn’t seem like a hardened amazon or a mare who distrusts and hates stallions and all of their silly plights for power and revenge. Then again looks can be deceiving, Midas knew that well. His only run-in with the Peak mares had been an unpleasant one years ago. He had stolen a mare from a neighboring stallion only to find those meddling women perfectly happy to stick their noses where they didn’t belong. He snorts dismissively, “Both seem like bad decisions if you ask me.”

Perhaps it is the fact that he is lost emotionally like the mare standing before him, but Midas feels himself drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Against his better judgement he wants to protect her though if he knows anything of Peak mares they don’t need (or want) a stallion for that. Midas has always been something of a traditionalist. He would have traded the only two daughters he’d ever had for power, for allies. He had been known to raid and steal, and get in pointless battles for Kingship and titles. But he would protect his herd against all who threatened them. He had always made sure they had a safe place to sleep at night, and plenty of food to fill their bellies. Years have passed since then though and Midas knows the islands are a different place. He doubts many in these lands still abide by those old traditions.

“At least spring is here now and soon the waters will be passable again. I would very much like to visit my old home.” His voice trails off and he smiles sadly, a smile of remembrance and regret as he glances south in the direction of Atlantis. His eyes glaze for a moment, thinking of Atlantis and his time there. And then the emotions hit him like a brick wall. Images flash before him like a carousel. He sees Sylvia crying under the moonlit sky, his baby Claire running on the beach full of innocence and happiness. He sees his young self sheltering Macabre in that small beach cove before the Quarry began to shake and fall, crumbling into the sea.

Darkness. Like spilled ink in water it billows into his brain and fills his lungs. He struggles to breath. He feels the water around his legs climbing upward, upward, trying to drown him. Static fills his brain and he gasps for air. “I,” He stammers, his bronze eyes wide and his voice breaking as his nostrils flare, “I - sh-should probably - be on my way.” He begins to back up stumbling slightly over the river rocks underfoot. He has to get away, that much is clear. He can feel that unmistakable, magnetic draw to the mare and that is something he cannot risk.

Coward That small voice, full of disgust and hatred, creeps back into his mind. He hasn’t heard it since he left these islands. He freezes. Midas knows the voice is right, he is nothing but a coward. Always taking the easy way out, always running to avoid getting close. He ducks his head to his strong chest and splashes out of the water.

It’s too much, it’s all too much. He thought he was ready to move past his old demons, but here they are, rearing their ugly heads and spitting in his face. His heart pounds audibly in his ears but the voices grow louder still, You’ll only let her down just like all the others. It’s better this way - keep your distance from her, from them. You can’t get back the family you’ve lost. You can’t form a new one. The only thing you’re good for is - well you know what. Your mother knew it all those years ago. Remember your brother? Remember what happened to him?” That wasn’t my fault”, he mutters under his breath. You’re old Midas, you’re tired. Maybe you should just end it all before you bother someone else. He grimaces at the thought, shaking his head violently to get rid of the voices.

Back on the shore, and regaining his composure, Midas glances back at Rowena. For a man who prided himself on keeping his cool, he has certainly displayed more than usual. He wants to leave but he also wants to keep her safe. He is frozen, confused, exhausted. One thing he knows for sure - there’s something about her that gets under his skin and that is a dangerous thing.



Tarrant x Vintage // Stallion // Palomino [ee aa nCr] // Thoroughbred x Mustang x Mixed // 15.2hh // 12 // No children // a fable character //


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