Solira: The Ocean: why'd you have to wait?;

I discovered that my castles stand
upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

“MOVE!”

He cries, leaps over a fallen – something – in his path and stumbles, every nerve ending screaming with the Elemental blaze that consumes them all. His Wind exhausts itself, leaping against the volatile and all-encompassing blaze in an attempt to shelter those he passes. “The way out’s that way – Go!” he yells to some nameless figure he comes across, “Don’t bother about anyone else, I’ll deal with it – GO!”

Saphira. Where’s Saphira?

He leaps into a gallop again.

“SAPHIRA!” he yells, but the flames are too incoherent…his heart throbs in his ears, and his Wind, though it tries to whirl around him, grows increasingly feeble.

He. Must. Continue.

On he runs.

There’s a terrible, sudden explosion – a wall of red rises in front of him in the middle of his stride. He tries to stop, but the world operates in slow-motion as he sails through the air, toward the still and forbidding blaze that snarls at him in leaping tongues of futility.

And then, there is blackness.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

His eyes open to see a sea-bird standing nearby, on a pile of ashes. The bird blinks at him, spreads its raven wings and takes flight.

Alshain lifts his head. The pain that single motion causes him is agony. He wants to lay back down again, to shut his eyes and pretend that none of this is happening. But he can’t. He knows he can’t. The thought of Saphira, of the army that he just returned to, compels him to awaken. He gets to his hooves (the very stretching of his skin over his muscles an incomprehensible agony), and the explosion of pain as it rips through every inch of him is staggering.

He steps forward, nearly falls, catches himself.

What a glorious General, one might think with a snort. Maybe he’ll think about pride another time. Maybe he’s just caught sight of Saphira, and the sight of her pain doubles his.

He hurries forward with all the haste he can muster (and it’s far from impressive.) He wants to leap against her, offer his body for support, but he knows that their screaming, scorched flesh will be agony upon contact for both of them. So he comes as close to her as he can, cranes his neck over hers.

And only then does the falcon notice the others, hears their words, so harsh and irascible and senseless-

“Wyvern,” he says, and for a moment he can’t immediately remember being so happy to see anyone who wasn’t Saphira. It’s been so long since he’s seen his old friend. And, well…Alshain likes healers right now.

But then, the others send him and Fenris away. “No!”he cries (such an impulsive creature – perhaps he’ll never learn?) “No, we need them!” Furious, he turns from Saphira to the proud Oracles – Micah, whom he does not know, and Marshall, whom he respects. “We’re not in any position to maintain petty grudges!” he snorts, “We have foals who may be dying. Probably are.” he thinks of Alanna and Dusan (not exactly foals anymore, but close enough for him) and shudders. Even Kratos crosses his mind (if Kratos knew this, he would promptly depart and become a Rogue.) “If we go on suffering now, we do it for good reason. We need to rebuild Solira. Writhing in burn-induced agony on the ground is going to waste precious time.”

Speaking of burn-induced agony, Alshain’s speech momentary distracts him from his own. But it comes back now, in a flood that makes him gasp as he attempts to arch his neck with his usual dynamic pride.

He feels like a turkey on thanksgiving, and he’s pissed off to boot.

ALSHAIN
That was when I ruled the world
AIR III || SILVER WARRIOR || TWISTERBLADE