Lilian

[lily]

Name: Lilian
Age: 11
Breed: Egyptian Arabian
Height: 15.3hh
Colour: Black
Eye Colour: Blue
Gender: Mare
Markings: White Star

History:

The world swirled and swayed as light-headedness assaulted her mind, the pictures blurred heavily as the tears swelled up like a thick film over her azure eyes. Nothing came in sharp lines; it was all a thick blur of colour, a smudge of unmoving black against the breathing mass of near white. She felt as frozen as the tundra with its wide sweeping clearing of ice and snow that wouldn’t melt for all the sunshine in the world. This was an event that she was not ready for and had hit her like a load of bricks. The last words they exchanged were horrid, awful words, and she sulked like a child hoping he would notice her and come apologizing instead of being the mature one and apologizing first. The thought stole through her mind and it wasn’t the finality of his death that broke her at first, it was knowing that what she’d said to him last was horrible.

It only made the tears run more quickly.

The obsidian shape moved, stood, peeled away from the black and Lilian blinked away her tears to look at him with water and red stinging eyes. You , his tone pierced at her skin like the tip of a sharp blade beginning to break her skin. It was you, and she heard the other words but first it was only those three and her eyes filled with fresh tears and she felt trapped by his eyes. The whole world was behind her and in theory she could turn and run but in those accusing pale eyes she was stuck against a wall which there was no escaping. Was he saying that this, this bleeding and unmoving foal that would never open his eyes to look on her in either happiness or disdain, this was her fault? Lilian had caused this as though she herself wielded the axe which swung and hit true…her cerulean eyes finally pulled from the dead foal and found her father in a panic.

There was no words to describe how insignificantly miniscule she felt in that moment nor of how much she hated herself for what she had done. It sickened her and if she were human she may have vomited on the spot. The world lurched again and her eyes closed shut tightly, ears buzzing, and head shaking while she swayed. No, no, no, no, it was all she could think and all she could do, there was no sense left in her body as the rage filled her whole and ate away at her heart. She despisedherself for what she had done. What a horribly dreadful creature she was, so selfish, and what lie before her feet was her sin to carry with her. Just how does one live with that burden?

But suddenly, and much closer, came the voice of the only other living one here and it slithered into her ear full of hatred. Her eyelids popped open and her gaze looked onto him with a pitiful weakness that made her no better than the mildew that grew slick over rocks. You silly stupid girl, he called her over and over again. Was that what she was? Yet, Lilian was just a filly, not even near to a mature man, and suddenly that self-loathing grew by a tenfold.


The self-loathing would, however, have to be held at bay for just a moment. It was an accident; her eyes became clear and widened, staring at her father, truly staring at him and seeing the grief that had been caused. Her father’s head hung in disappointment You killed him Lilian, what am I to do with you now? How can we carry on? These tempers of yours are out of control. Her nose pressed against her own cold skin, clammy, and a sob shook her body and came strangled from her throat. I’m so sorry father, I’m so sorry, I’m so… but the words died in her throat as it swelled, constricted, and she began to cry freely to him. The hot tears dropped against her midnight skin and ran like rain down the lines of her tiny body. Being sorry would not bring him back to life. Lilian was a murderer. What a horribly ugly creature she was, she was not the golden child, never the golden child. Succumbing to her woes she cried into the winter night, wailing here and there through her sobs. At long last the tears ran dry, the snow began to fall and fluttered cold against her hot body and the rigid one of the dead foal that lay on the floor- and her eyes burned. She swallowed thickly and stood as clumsy as a new-born babe, swaying in her place. Her father gave a deep sigh; You cannot stay here child. You will be killed; they will torture you for this crime. There is nothing I can do to protect you apart from sending you away. There are witnesses to this murder Lilian, I will not watch my own daughter be slaughtered. He said with a heavy heart. Lilian stayed silent, her eyes not meeting his own. The stallion took pity on his daughter, pulling her small form towards him. You are too strong to stay here dear one, you will be fine in the world alone . There was a shrill whinny not too far away from the exchanging pair and the dead foal on the floor, followed by a thundering of hooves and the silhouettes of horses on the horizon. Lilian began to cry again, I would rather die she sobbed. Her father rose to his hind legs and snarled out in warning You will leave now! He cried banishing her from the land. So, the little mare skittered from her homeland, a murderer, not even turned a full year.


The thrill of the fight is like a beating drum, it thrummed in the obsidian mare’s breast; heavier and deeper than the rhythm of her own heart. Even when sleep had eluded her, on the best of days, she found himself relishing the opportunity to meet another individual on the battlefield. To feel the clash of flesh against flesh, hoof battering hoof, and the exhilarating feeling of teeth finding the sweet spot on another’s body; pulling back the skin and dealing damage in a tasteful way.

Oh, the irony of war.

Lilian found that, even in the middle of the day, she didn’t have to linger far from her favourite of the rolling hills of the prairie. Her usual lurking spot had been graced with the gift of tall, swaying grass that imitated the lurch and slosh of ocean waves, and it could be found towards the centre of the terrain. The choice of battlefield, though the mare would have preferred to meet on neutral grounds, could be found far from the meat of her home, where the grass had died away to be short and manageable, and the hills had flattened out to an uncharacteristically level moorland. It was only shortly after the noon hour that the mare stood in the middle of the plains, her head sweeping from side to side, looking for any roots or rocks that had turned to jutting out of the ground in the form of a threat to delicate equine ankles. Her surveillance had not yielded any sort of outlying problem, so she had opted to stand to the side of the field.


The wind picked through her mane as he waited through the long hours of the afternoon for her opponent to arrive for her. Eagerly, she anticipated the moment that her chestnut rival would rise up out of the not entirely too distant waves and make her unceremonious arrival. Perhaps, as the minutes waned and turned into hours, Lilian found her eyelids drooping under the warmth of the midday sun, her skin warmed and her legs stiffening as she started to nap whilst waiting for Melody. As consciousness started to bleed away from her, a reoccurring nightmare materializes behind her eyelids. With her eyes closed to the world, she could see the murderous midnight face of her father- lips split into a wicked grin and eyes burning with bloodlust- moving to hang over her body, leaning in close and breathing a gaseous haze of death that washed over her face…

She awoke with a small start, eyes switching towards the sea, spotting her opponent through a fog of anger and hate. Perhaps her nap had awoken the dormant beast that rested within her belly.

Lilian barely waited for the other mare to fully emerge from the saltwater before, with a horrific scream on her lips, she charges at the other mare. Hooves flourishing over the short grass and tail waving like a war-banner behind her, the inked hellion meet the other temptress perpendicularly, in what would be an angry clash of pale red skin against the obsidian pelt dusted flesh. You never were on time Lilian spat, circling Melody. The chestnut mare gave her a callous smirk; sorry I was too busy with Bellagio, quite the stallion. She sneered as Lilian silenced her with a clip to the shoulder.

Everything seemed to happen under the deluded haze of anger, fuelled on by the revenge she sought to deal out after she was wrongly accused. She had been accused of taking the scrolls of elder. Dirty, yet amorous human papers containing the secrets of the superior equines. Papers, that were meant to be shared between the four of the lords. Yet they hadn’t. She had taken the scrolls, yes. She had journeyed so far to collect them. Then had been ambushed. The papers stolen and her body beaten-left for dead. When she had returned to the remaining three lords, she had been alleged of betraying them. Now, they were banishing her from the order. The second time in her life she was banished from her home. Though this was different. This was who shewas.

For a moment, as she had been blinded by the rage, yet now she realized contact must have been made in her conscious absent. Every lesson she had ever learned as a filly came into play. She had been told that the horse’s haunch is one of the sturdiest parts of the body, and that legs were the best place to throw all your attacks- as well as a healthy bite or two in the direction of the face; an attack meant to blind and distract. The mares fought for hours. Each receiving as much damage as the other until their superior stamina failed them at last. The pair stopped, their lungs bursting as they struggled to inhale enough are to satisfy their blood-stream. The chestnut turned to leave, Lilian relaxed for a brief moment. That insignificant instant cost her enough to change the derestriction of her history. Melody spun on her hinds, pelting them down on Lilian’s chiselled cranium with overly exerted force. The obsidian mare fell, her mind crushing under the intense impact of the hit. She struggled helplessly in the sands, writhing in pain, yet trying to fight back. Again, and again the russet mare’s hooves struck her- Until the world was nothing more than darkness.

It was that day that infinite war was declared between the horses lords,

It was on that day that the world had been sentenced to its sticky dark conclusion,

It was on that day, that destiny would be declared.