Post by Wild@Heart on Jan 22, 2011 14:11:08 GMT -5
Name: My name is Alatheia. My mother named me this. She said that another equine had appeared in her dream and told her to name her first born daughter this, and that she would be the goddess of truth. Little did my mother know that this would all be true.
Age: Age is a mere number. It means nothing to me anymore, and I can not be bothered to count the days that I have spent upon this godforsaken earth.
Gender: Only a mare could have this much knowledge, and still be so level headed.
Height(hh): I am short, am I not? My withers only reach 13 hands high.
Breed: I am of pure Caspian decent, an ancient breed that was prized way back. From my knowledge I am the only one left.
Colour: My hide is a silvery white.
Extras: My mane and tail just so happen to be ebony, a sharp contrast from the silver shade of my coat. My daggers match, the black color running all the way up my legs before fading into stripes that end where my pillars do. A black dorsal stripe runs down my back and and where my dock meets tail. My nose is black, ending where my cheek bones begin, and my odd colored pools are circled in black. I have one violet eye and one Sapphire blue. There is no reason for this, it just happened. And between my multicolored eyes stands my golden horn. A single spear made of hard bone that extends a little over a foot out from my forehead.
Persona: I am calm, as I should be with as much life experience as I have. My patience for liars is short, though and my temper can become great around them. Nothing shocks me anymore, as I have seen and done it all, and nothing startles me because I know that I am invincible and can kill them with ease. I am very stubborn, and my opinions are my opinions. No one has been able to sway me yet.
I do not wish to interact with mere mortals, as they tend to be the greatest liars of them all, and I can not promise that I won't hurt them. Although I can control myself at all times, and my emotions never get out of hand.
History: My memory is impeccable. I have never forgotten a single thing that has happened to me. But instead of giving you my whole life story I will sum everything up into a short novel.
I remember being born to my mother. A plain mare with no powers at all. She was pure black, and so was her heart. Although she loved me to no end. I remember her telling me the story of my name after she had cleaned me off and I was nursing for the first time. I had been born all black too, and she had been proud. I was a miniature duplicate of her.
She often joked about my prophecy to the other herd members, but I know she believed every word of it. She would tell me that I would be a great equine some day, and that when something terrible happened to the lands, just as her dream friend had said, I would helping put things back to normal.
Growing up my mother taught me to fight. She was harsh on me, but she needed to be. And I was no different then the colts in the herd then. My father believed in owning allowing colts to live back then, that I remember too. He had killed off all the fillies that had been born that year, but I was the last one born in the dead of winter. He had protested when my Mother told him that I would live. In the end he decided that if I didn't die from the cold temps then I would be worth keeping. To his dismay I survived.
Anyways, I would brawl with the colts all of the time, nonstop for days on end, my mother barking out commands from the sidelines. And eventually I didn't need her help anymore. I was as strong as the toughest colts, and more agile then all of them put together. And on top of strength I had the brains that it took to become a champion.
When I was about 3 years old my father left his position as lead stag and gave it up to one of the younger males of the herd. The stallion that took it was 12, and he chose me as his lead mare. He had been watching me all this time, he had said, and I was the only mare of pure Caspian blood that had ever lived. He wanted me as his. Now he was a rude beast, and I didn't care for him much but my mom demanded that I take his offer anyways, and so I did.
I had been lead mare for only a couple of months before he had decided that he didn't only want that from me, but a son of his own to carry on the blood line when his time was up. I didn't love him. In no way did I want to carry his foal, and he said that he understood. I knew he was lieing, but I carried on anyways as if it was no big deal and so did he.
Then about a week later he said we needed to talk, and that it was serious and urgent, but he didn't want any of the herd members to hear it so we would need to go deep within the forest. I followed him there, like the foolish youngin I was. Once there, though, it became clear to me that he had no intention to talk, and instead was going to rape me. I fought back, of course, but I was weaker than the stag that was in the prime of his life and stood over 16 hands. Anger was boiling within me, and my head was pounding. It felt as if my skull was exploding, a pain greater than anything I had ever felt before even to this day.
I remember him charging at me, my own head was held low from the pain. His own emotions had taken over, and he did not notice the object that had grown between my eyes. Nor did I for that matter. But I remember the blood spurting out from where he had ran into me, my own mind in a haze as I pulled back, dragging his body with mine own. I knew I wasn't this strong, and I couldn't figure out what was holding him to me, but I could feel all over his pain washing through my body. It was terrible, but not as bad as my own headache. And thoughts were racing through my head, ones that were not my own and never had been.
He had loved me, I realized this now. And I had killed him, but not on purpose. I withdrew from him, pressing my daggers against his body as I pulled my crania away. Startled and worried I bolted to the river to clean the blood off of myself, and to see what exactly lay in my blind spot.
Once there I stopped suddenly, a sharp object protruding from my forehead. It was odd, and yet gorgeous. And my coat color, that had changed also. No longer was I a dark black but the color that I am now.
I remember going back to the herd, telling them what happened and no one believed me except my own mother. I was exiled then. Ever since I have wandered the lands for years. At first I was social and would talk to mortals all the time, but I have quite that habit. I hate to see those I love die, as all mortals must do. So it's best not to grow attached in the first place.
Power: I am no more special than any of the other gods I am sure. Just by looking at another equine I can tell if they're lieing or not. And I can keep my own secrets hidden to no prevail. No one ever knows what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling unless I decide it to be so. My horn also holds special powers, and it's not just for beauty. If I touch another equine with it, then I will be put in their place and feel everything they feel. I will know every thought that they've ever thunk and every thought that they are thinking now. I can do pretty much anything I wish with my horn, including heals those that are critically wounded but I have never tried with the dead. Since Hades deals with that I don't think that I could bring them back once their gone, or so far gone that they're with Hades. I usually don't mess with mother nature, though and let things go the way they're meant to.
Interesting Feature(s): Everything about me is interesting, is it not? But I am a goddess, and that is probably the most interesting thing you will hear. Or not.
Age: Age is a mere number. It means nothing to me anymore, and I can not be bothered to count the days that I have spent upon this godforsaken earth.
Gender: Only a mare could have this much knowledge, and still be so level headed.
Height(hh): I am short, am I not? My withers only reach 13 hands high.
Breed: I am of pure Caspian decent, an ancient breed that was prized way back. From my knowledge I am the only one left.
Colour: My hide is a silvery white.
Extras: My mane and tail just so happen to be ebony, a sharp contrast from the silver shade of my coat. My daggers match, the black color running all the way up my legs before fading into stripes that end where my pillars do. A black dorsal stripe runs down my back and and where my dock meets tail. My nose is black, ending where my cheek bones begin, and my odd colored pools are circled in black. I have one violet eye and one Sapphire blue. There is no reason for this, it just happened. And between my multicolored eyes stands my golden horn. A single spear made of hard bone that extends a little over a foot out from my forehead.
Persona: I am calm, as I should be with as much life experience as I have. My patience for liars is short, though and my temper can become great around them. Nothing shocks me anymore, as I have seen and done it all, and nothing startles me because I know that I am invincible and can kill them with ease. I am very stubborn, and my opinions are my opinions. No one has been able to sway me yet.
I do not wish to interact with mere mortals, as they tend to be the greatest liars of them all, and I can not promise that I won't hurt them. Although I can control myself at all times, and my emotions never get out of hand.
History: My memory is impeccable. I have never forgotten a single thing that has happened to me. But instead of giving you my whole life story I will sum everything up into a short novel.
I remember being born to my mother. A plain mare with no powers at all. She was pure black, and so was her heart. Although she loved me to no end. I remember her telling me the story of my name after she had cleaned me off and I was nursing for the first time. I had been born all black too, and she had been proud. I was a miniature duplicate of her.
She often joked about my prophecy to the other herd members, but I know she believed every word of it. She would tell me that I would be a great equine some day, and that when something terrible happened to the lands, just as her dream friend had said, I would helping put things back to normal.
Growing up my mother taught me to fight. She was harsh on me, but she needed to be. And I was no different then the colts in the herd then. My father believed in owning allowing colts to live back then, that I remember too. He had killed off all the fillies that had been born that year, but I was the last one born in the dead of winter. He had protested when my Mother told him that I would live. In the end he decided that if I didn't die from the cold temps then I would be worth keeping. To his dismay I survived.
Anyways, I would brawl with the colts all of the time, nonstop for days on end, my mother barking out commands from the sidelines. And eventually I didn't need her help anymore. I was as strong as the toughest colts, and more agile then all of them put together. And on top of strength I had the brains that it took to become a champion.
When I was about 3 years old my father left his position as lead stag and gave it up to one of the younger males of the herd. The stallion that took it was 12, and he chose me as his lead mare. He had been watching me all this time, he had said, and I was the only mare of pure Caspian blood that had ever lived. He wanted me as his. Now he was a rude beast, and I didn't care for him much but my mom demanded that I take his offer anyways, and so I did.
I had been lead mare for only a couple of months before he had decided that he didn't only want that from me, but a son of his own to carry on the blood line when his time was up. I didn't love him. In no way did I want to carry his foal, and he said that he understood. I knew he was lieing, but I carried on anyways as if it was no big deal and so did he.
Then about a week later he said we needed to talk, and that it was serious and urgent, but he didn't want any of the herd members to hear it so we would need to go deep within the forest. I followed him there, like the foolish youngin I was. Once there, though, it became clear to me that he had no intention to talk, and instead was going to rape me. I fought back, of course, but I was weaker than the stag that was in the prime of his life and stood over 16 hands. Anger was boiling within me, and my head was pounding. It felt as if my skull was exploding, a pain greater than anything I had ever felt before even to this day.
I remember him charging at me, my own head was held low from the pain. His own emotions had taken over, and he did not notice the object that had grown between my eyes. Nor did I for that matter. But I remember the blood spurting out from where he had ran into me, my own mind in a haze as I pulled back, dragging his body with mine own. I knew I wasn't this strong, and I couldn't figure out what was holding him to me, but I could feel all over his pain washing through my body. It was terrible, but not as bad as my own headache. And thoughts were racing through my head, ones that were not my own and never had been.
He had loved me, I realized this now. And I had killed him, but not on purpose. I withdrew from him, pressing my daggers against his body as I pulled my crania away. Startled and worried I bolted to the river to clean the blood off of myself, and to see what exactly lay in my blind spot.
Once there I stopped suddenly, a sharp object protruding from my forehead. It was odd, and yet gorgeous. And my coat color, that had changed also. No longer was I a dark black but the color that I am now.
I remember going back to the herd, telling them what happened and no one believed me except my own mother. I was exiled then. Ever since I have wandered the lands for years. At first I was social and would talk to mortals all the time, but I have quite that habit. I hate to see those I love die, as all mortals must do. So it's best not to grow attached in the first place.
Power: I am no more special than any of the other gods I am sure. Just by looking at another equine I can tell if they're lieing or not. And I can keep my own secrets hidden to no prevail. No one ever knows what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling unless I decide it to be so. My horn also holds special powers, and it's not just for beauty. If I touch another equine with it, then I will be put in their place and feel everything they feel. I will know every thought that they've ever thunk and every thought that they are thinking now. I can do pretty much anything I wish with my horn, including heals those that are critically wounded but I have never tried with the dead. Since Hades deals with that I don't think that I could bring them back once their gone, or so far gone that they're with Hades. I usually don't mess with mother nature, though and let things go the way they're meant to.
Interesting Feature(s): Everything about me is interesting, is it not? But I am a goddess, and that is probably the most interesting thing you will hear. Or not.
