Bellagio

[lily]

Name: Bellagio.
Age: 7
Breed: Egyptian Arab.
Height: 15.1hh
Colour: Black.
Eye Colour: Black.
Gender: Stallion.
Markings: White Star.
History:

The Beginning of the new.

The peaceful clearing was bathed in silver moonlight. A star-streaked sky was clear, the pale moon continuously pouring down silver rays down upon the earth. Each star seemed to shine luminously tonight. A tender zephyr stirred the tall blades of grass, gently swaying them to and fro. Night time melodies filled the atmosphere with a pleasant feeling. Tranquillity plainly had a firm grasp upon the lovely night. But things were ending somewhere, too. All things had an end, and tonight, a great end would come to be found. A striking raven stallion staggered into the clearing, wheezing. Each breath was stiffer to inhale, his lungs struggling to grasp at the precious oxygen that refused find its way into his chest. His heart beat rapidly, yet futilely, for not even the gentle miracle of the Lilian could save him. But that was as he wished it, as Lillian wished it, and surely as Tank & Melody wished it. Tonight, was his last night with earthly limitations. He lowered himself to the earth’s crust, groaning with pain. And there he lay, knowing full well he would never again think as he had before. But he lifted his skull weakly, and took one last, long glance around him, at the tranquil peace that filled his home. His eyes closed, and his breathing slowed, as he drifted into the memories he held closely. For now his father was dying and the burden he held was being passed down to the next heir; Bellagio.

Memories linger

He remembered his very first steps into power. He had been young then. Muscular, strong, and a proud figure, and still, even in his dying moment, and ever since Bellagio taken his first steps into his life, he had been proud, even floating about within his mother’s womb, he was proud. Bellagio remembered his first sighting of his father, timidly approaching him. The herd’s leader. And they had talked of many things. The world and its many wonders, cultures of horses, calculations and languages. He looked up to his father for everything, his prodigious, majestic father. It wasn’t a surprise that before too long before he had gained a esteemed position with the herd and was sheltered from the many harms of the word. Bellagio, was quick, strong and smart. As were his best friends Tank, Melody and Lilian. The four horses were so unique, but so similar. They were so in sync. Nobody understood them like they did with each other. However, they didn’t stay long, to around the time that they were a year of age. They had their own stories to write. But then there was Lilian. She had taken a journey from a distant land. She had stayed with him. And he remembered falling for her, so deeply falling for her like he would never see another light like that which shone in her eyes. And then, the glorious day, when their daughter, Nikota, was born. She was so full of energy. So full of spirit, it made Bellagio honoured to be called her father. She was so beautiful, a pelt of pure black and massive azure oculi given from her beautiful mother. She was the most glorious filly in all the lands. And but a few months Nikota, had been birthed from Lilian, she died a most tragic death. One called Pimlico, came in the night and slaughtered the grand-daughter of the stallion he had grudged upon for so many years. How the herd wept. How the herd cried. They wanted revenge; the air they breathed would be tainted with the blood of Pimlico. For now the great Bellagio was so sad, the light gone from his eyes. His father swore to him that Pimlico would pay for his crime; and so he would.

He and Lilian stayed together for their love was unbound by anything the world would ever be able to understand. It stretched on farther than any galaxy, farther than anyone could reach or touch. It was strong, and would always set an example for the herd, happiness could remain. -His memories swirled- A memory of the raid, and when he and his father clashed with a king of darkness, Pimlico. Blood was spilled, a lives lost, but the battle had been great and glorious, another memory left in the ashes of Paradise. It had been a sight to see ebony and ivory clashing, neither giving in to the other, but Bellagio had fought for those he loved, for his home and for his Nikota. And though neither sides been victorious, in a way, there was still a marvelling glory that would forever be told in the tales of this great kings life. As they travel the desert searching for survivors, that was when they found her. Bellagio’s mother. For she had been slain. Bellagio could no longer take the grief. His rage turned to madness and he turned on the one thing he had thought he would love forever; Lilian. He beat her with not only his hooves but distasteful words. Each evening he would beat her, wound her. She would never cry out in pain, she would never answer back. This made him even more enraged. How could she not cry out? How could she block out all he did to her? For she understood his pain.


One, two, three! And your back in the room.

A ray of light gleamed, and it took mere seconds for Bellagio to make out the raven shape of Lilian, her silvery splashed rump gleaming uniquely. A soft smile spread across Bellagio’s facade and he tipped his dying head forwards, attempting to nuzzle her ever so tenderly, to apologise for everything. He grinned, and he felt nothing but welcome and happiness surround him like a warm embrace as he lay with the one that meant so much to him. He started to talk, but Lilian was not listening. She was unlike her previous self. She was no longer kind and gentle. A new kind of emotion was shed over her. And it was then, that a sudden jolt shot through his physical body. She had struck him. Again, and again and again. Then, he lay still.

And so the tranquillity ended, but within the air, the scent of a miracle. Bellagio was going to survive the transition. His bod lay there, for his world to surround and for it to think of the good memories he shared with its wonder. Some would miss him more than others. For there would be no more good memories. He was in the flowing water that dances when the sunlight touched their surfaces. He was in the gentle breeze, caressing them soothingly in conciliation. He was always there, in everything around him. No longer would he be gentle though. No longer would he caress the leaves.He would crush them, along with anybody whom may stand in his way to destroy the one who had left him. Who had struck him down at his weakest? Now he thought about it. Did she ever love him? The anger welled from within him. She would be crushed. Lilian.