{{The Prince's}}{{Code}}

[faitaccompli]

The Prince's code by which he to follow
strung line by line, a resonance hollow
Dares't he not to move a'ground
lest me make to take in sound

Machiavelli struggled from under a pile of debris that had fallen unto him as he had been sleeping. He had not been merely taken a nap, though; no, he had been asleep some time. Now he was ready to wake again, to walk the world of the relatively living. If his memory served him correctly, his mistress should be in the very vicinity of where he had taken this prophetic sleep. It came to his mind, now, though that he should be needed awake to assist her into building a herd in this forsaken terra of the ones who walked on two legs.

As he finally managed to lift the debris from his bodice, he realized exactly how dire the situation might have become. He stretched his grey pillars, all a matched set tentatively out in the direction he instinctively though he could find Tyrina. Hit a large metal expanse that stood not but a few inches from where he had lain, a realized this must have been what had shaken the debris onto his back. He frowned, scorn'dly, knowing it did not help his strength to befall such misfortunes. His silver-grey form was not at all what it used to be, lacking youthful sleekness and consisting of almost creaky joints.

His softly set features radiated a sort of understanding kindness, but after all this accounted for, one could not render his might completely unreasonable. Still, he was one of words and heart. Thus, his loyalty had always remained unwavering, even in the years he had not followed Tyrina quite so closely.

He unfolded himself into the arms of the city, and trotted on, not as cautiously as he supposed he might normally, in a quest for the mare. He had not seen her in quite a vast expanse of time, and he wondered how he would be taken to, welcomed or scorned. Not once had he done Tyrina any disservice, but was his lacking in direct service a mark on road to what the areforemention considered. He knew it wouldn't matter. He was going back now, for he missed the sight of his lady. He knew he was losing his mind, as old men are prone to do, but sometimes he felt as if Tyrina were a daughter. That had become a queen.

But if she were a queen, and no doubt she might be becoming one as he spoke, then he thought he'd fit better as a prince. Or maybe the ancient, senile intracacy of the court that is little more than a servant. It didn't matter either way, as long as he were to get to this court of the decrepit city so he could not only serve Tyrina, but the next court of the equines.

His chocolate orbs suddenly came upon the one for which he had been questing, and he broke into an easy lope. His frosty head bobbed and he continued until he reached her. Halting, he slid into a swift bow, his snow-sheen'd tassels sweeping her feet. "My Lady," he spoke.

If looking liking be a'naught
Lest lesson true be forgot
A soldier fancier, t'looks unbeaten
Whose devil-glare strikes the Shetan
May fancy that nothing be
in the eyes of sweet delighted misery
when the soul in need is that only of
Unwavering loyalty.


{{I thought I'd write a little poem there with Shakespearian-style couples, since Blank Verse is overrated (I mean Iambic Pentameter, c'mon) (jk, jk). And I know I can't poetrize to save my life and there is an almost rhyme that doesn't sound that great (Shetan-unbeaten) but I try. I try. xD}}

[/blockquote][/size]

[Admin]

She was traveling her lands. Walking the grounds of broken concret that she now called home. Soon she would have her herds, and sub-herds. Running free and openly her around the land she was falling in love with. The sandy lot that had once been a tourist attraction was now her place to stand and look at the headless lady liberty. She was gracful and strong even broken as she was. Something about the statue made her feel like females were much stronger than they stood. Her beauty was not false, not even in the tranished copper. Tyrina sighed. Ever since she had been meet with Zerkzies again memories had been in her head all the time.

No matter what time in history the memory was, it had come back to her. Her times with Zerkzies when they had been young lovers, and the times when she had been with the old Velli before he had dissapeared after the unicorns left. She remembered the old stallions when she was young. He had not seen her become the Queen, or only seen her first year into it. She had been young when he was around and like Nohirm was old. Not as old as she had been, he had been the old fourtune teller of her people. In a way Tyrina think that his dissapearence had frightened her people at the time, but know he was long forgoten except for her and the oldest of unicorns.

Still now she wondered what had befallen her surgot father. She had loved him like she had loved Nohirm. A sigh only emitted from her as she looked at the water from the sand banks. It was nice to be on its' soft grounds opousing to the hard concret. She watched with her aged silver eyes as lapping waves gave no indication of time of age of anything but herself. Was anything to make sense in her life again? Her gaze went to the head of Her Lady. Algey was taking residence on her coppery shell, and no color of what the penny had looked at one time was in her any more. Like time is had worn at her, turning her into something comletly different. How much had she changed?

Tyrina pulled her thoughts away from that. Thinking more about the amount of equines that she in the time she had been her. It definaley wasn't matching Zerkzies ranks and numbers, she would have to train them to the same levels. But it wasn't smarts and grit that her people lacked, no it was just devious moves to make up for their lack in numbers. The red Queen was ready for the war she had stood by for all this time. Not anything would change her emotions to the situation.

Letting her thoughts drift to more persinol matters, Rina found her thinking about the stallion Tex that she had meet some time ago. Something about the black brute had captivated her in a way that not even Zerkzies had. But it was said that every lover held your heart in a different way. Unlike her ex-lover who had always questioned her and demanded that she just follow his every move like a puppet. He had wanted to rule her people for her, and she would have none of that. It was her choices that would lead her people into their era, and they had not gone wrong in staying with the Uprighs. In it they had learned to be strong and not to trust so esialy. Tex came back into her line of thinking. He was handsome and strong. The stag also stood by her with complete loyalty, and Rina felt she needed that most right now.

It was the sound of her name that took her out of her repreve. She did not notice that voice, or she did but the ludicrise thought of who is belonged to was not even an option in her head. She turned with her innocent looks and youthful body of full muscles and slender curves, and her eyes of silver locking onto that who she held so dear so long ago. Machiavelli was coming towards her now. Old and withered, but still handsome and gracful. He was smart and wise in his ways, and loyal to her father and had loved her.

Her excitment wasn't held back when she seen him. It had been a long time since she let out childish laughter. It was like seeing her father and a childhood firend all at once. Her full turn was exacted in a smooth move as she pulled herself from the banks and into the concrete harbor where he was. She ran as fast as her appendages would let her manovour through the debris. In no time the fae stood before him her muzzle pressed to his shoulder. "Where have you been?" She whispered in a sweet voice, that held so much emotion and pain in it, all that was pent up inside her.

[faitaccompli]

He had procured the scale of rubble, and, resting at his Lady's hooves, he realised felt no greater pleasure than this in the most recent past or his life, e'r since his last departure from her brilliant ensemble. His tassels played among those daggers of hers, but they were not as he so remembr'd. She had uppermost been engraved as the one she still appeared to be, but his lady now seemed more hardened by the seasons, more ready, as if anticipating something great to come. And by the appearance of her death-sharpened daggers, one could only guess it would be a grand scene, of the likeness Velli remained unsure.

He grinned vastly, in the way that only an equine can, and raised himself, his old bones creaking in protest. He would have to warm them again with activity after being dormant for so long. He was now to his full height, and splendored in feeling a used, after so many years of purposeless dreaming.

Glancing upward, though, to her reddened brilliance, Velli saw the soft contours with which he could relate, to recognize her for who she was. Her hue did oft remind him of the Queen of Hearts, but in appearance only. Queen in her semblence, and ruby in her paint, she looked the part, but the justice in her eyes elemenated any likilhood of a statement of beheadance. His pale grey, he liked to think, was a nice background for her shining red heart, and for that reason he had woken from what he assumed to be a deathbed to lie.

Of course, he could not die entirely, but to lay with closed eyes and lose one's soul for many years would have given time no meaning, and surely he would have stayed, as a statue in the city. He could only die in one way, and that was to die in battle. He had considered this, but decided it selfish to die for the want of onesself, and perhaps to die in service of another would be the only way. Now, though, he had the intendency to live. He had not known that his lady was on the terra, but he had risen, finally aware.

He glanced about himself to spot, some distance off, what had once been a grand statue. In his own mind, this figure still was, for he had a premonition it would be the site of an occurance, major and consequential, yet to come. It was the lady liberty, now lacking a head. He had never valued the human form, being an equine himself, and he realised how it did not make a difference what form this city was in, though it had changed much. It was that which becomes legend. And that from which power is derived.

He noted he would scout parts of the terra, after he had obtained the necessary knowledge of his lady's wishes. He would run, to build stregth, and look about him to gain wisdom.

He took a moment to think back upon those treasured days of old, but those precious memories came sadly fewer then he would have liked. He wish'd to have a portal in which he could see the past, for he felt his memory had begun to fail him. He knew that though he was granted to live under the circumstances of eternity, he still would age. More slowly than any mortal, but he could feel those years creeping upon his soul, to smother it, rather than snuff it out as it was common for mortal beasts. He smiling, calling back a certain instance and then another. He wondered if his lady still held fond memories of him, or if he was no better to her than a particle of dust littering these streets. Perhaps his purpose had been served, and this so-called protector's blessing he held was no better than a curse to his name. He wondered at this, not knowing to show shame or pride in his return. But indecision did not flicker into his countanence, for he was level-headed, clear-minded, and he did not let this ruin his thoughts, for this was not of his character. He purged himself of this matrix of wonderment, and began to speculate on what might be to come.

With no sucess, he turned back to his queen, his ruler, knowing that not more than a few seconds had passed. His ivory strands danced in the wind, if it could be called as such. It was an almost rank gust, but the stag did not lack in the way of tolerance or bravery. The city would suit him fine, and might even proce to be adventageous.

Hearing words addressed to himself, he turned all his attentions to the speaker. "Tyrina," he responded, and paused, her emotion just as mirrored in his voice. "I have been....in resting. Now I have come, and I wish to be of service in any way that you so desire." He had missed her so dearly, and sometimes he felt like she were his own daughter. His eyes were filled with admiration and his words choked with elation in seeing her again.

[Admin]

She could cry at having him in her graces again. Strong and comforting like a father he was. She needed something like that in her life. Now that it was back, she felt stable and in balance with her whole life. Nothing could keep her off her feet now, like life its self was at a point of perfection. But didn't these emotions only last for a day maybe a minute. Tyrina didn't think so, right now she felt like she was walking on air and her power was increased by it. That the fire in her was real and it was lapping at her heart with a violence that no one could contain. It was only for her to feel have. She had a new lover, one she was sure would love her with every thing that could possibaly be. She had Velli back, her stable beam in life. Something that would let her stay sane.

With these people at her side nothing could stop her. She didn't feel like she was falling and about to hit that hard ground head first. That fire in her heart felt like it was about to break free and spiral up her body, licking at her in antisapation of war. Her silver gaze flickered to Velli again. His grey coat was such a relif in her eyes. She had missed it so much. She had been so numb for so long that Tyrina was afraid that she wouldn't feel again. Not till Tex and Velli, even Zerkzies return had triggered emotions in her. All of those emotions had caught up to her and made her feel almost alive again. Breath traveled through the fae's nose in a even pace, the breeze traveled with her making those beads tapp at her shoulder, and her forelock lift from her face.

Seeing the older horse again had made something awaken in her. Something mortal that had mercy and beauty. That thing that Zerkzies had taken away from her the day he had left, berating her for her choice. The day that bastered had left thinking he had knew every thing. That his choices were the only right ones. That unkept rage curled in her gut at bit into her stomach wanting free. She swallowed taming it for just another moment. She would have her chance to release it and soon. No longer would she have to wait for redemption. No longer was she the innocent fool who had thought a unicorn prince would love her a Queen of his kinds lower beings. She had truley spent all this time wanting him back, he could shove those pitiful emotions down his throat. Her anger was rightfully hers. Yes, she had felt anger when he hadn't stayed with her and her people here. But that hadn't been for any other reason that she would miss him. It had been that he had seen her nothing more than a pawn to play on a chess board of his. Tell her where to go. She was not going to be the pawn: The Queen could move how ever and where ever she wanted. It was time for her to make a move.

Her silver gaze went to Velli and her muzzle had still been on his. Soft yet strong. Her eyes that deathy liquid metal. "How much have I changed since you last seen me?" Her voice was still unaturaly soft, yet there was a hidden fire in it. Something that could scold you if you got to close, or warm you if you knew how to handle it. "Are you mad at me?" She whispered her eyes diverting from his face so he could not see her emotions, the only gate to her soul. This stallion was like her father to her. With out his approval she would feel a little lost, but she would get through. 2,000 years alone, she really didn't need anyones pity or help, but it didn't change that she wanted his and Tex's. That she wanted those two to lean on when the wounds got to deep to handle. "Velli it's time for this war to start and I need you to tattoo me." She said in a bleak voice. When she said this Tyrina remembered the Tattoos that Zerkzies had gotten when Nohirm had died. Those ivory markings that climbed his legs and kissed his eye. She would need her own. It was time for her to take them with her and show her own statue. She was not going to be pushing around anymore. Or feel pain about it.

Tyrina was ready to live. Live with the ones she loved and stand for what she beleived in. Because if she didn't she would never awake from this eternal sleep. Sleeping beauty was awake and ready to show people she didn't need a prince.

Ooc: Tattoos are just markings on their body, Tyrinas will be fire up her legs. The reason Velli would know how to do it is because it is an old practice. So ^-^}

[faitaccompli]

Velli sighed, happy to be back again. He looked about, and wondered why such tragedy had befallen the world. The outlook was bleak from the sense that all decayed and collapsed about their feet, but now an inner fire would bring this place back to life. Tyrina's manner made him feel comforted, like he was in control again. He could protect her with all he had, and this gave him great enjoyment and satisfaction. He did not want to lose his place again, and he certainly would not go back to 'resting.' He now understood he still had a place in this world, playing second to the great new leader Tyrina.

And yet the way she looked at him! In her eyes, it was as if he had never fallen from greatness, and as if his advice could still be law, and his rule was still valid. He supposed that this was to her great advantage, since it showed her modesty, and that she wasn't stuck in her power. Perhaps believing that he could help so much lent her straight. Thus, he would try his very hardest to live up to those standards. He would aid and guide her as well as he possibly could. Maybe his counsel was valid after all. He had to be strong for Tyrina.

His soft bearing hardened, gazing out across the terra. It was hard for him to grasp that such a concept that the pure-hearted femme he had known and watched grow so long ago could become so full of hatred and turmoil. He could not perceive what could have caused this, and felt a stab of sudden self-loathing. It hadn't been him? No. It was something far deeper. Tyrina was his love. But not as a mate, not as a lover. This conflict had been caused by pains of the heart in such area, he suspected.

He remembered fleeing, cantering until he was sheltered from his own fears. They chased him down, hunting him, almost. How the hunters could become the hunted so quickly! But he had fallen long ago, so why did he run? Maybe so he wouldn't have to face the reality. He was old and tired and wished it would come to an end. Shuffling debris with his hoof, he was brought back to the present. Now that had all changed, and he had a feeling Tyrina's next words would define all that would happen, or summarize what had.

She spoke words quietly, and he was prone to upset. Anger? That which was associated with Hate. How could he hate Tyrina, and why would she think such of him? Something had gone wrong, terribly wrong and it would right itself through whatever came next. He usually expressed his thoughts in complicated chains of words, but his addresses to Tyrina were simple, and from the heart. "I would ne'r hate you, my mistress, nor hold anger toward you. Do not think I would e're harbor such in my heart. Adoration is what I feel." He spoke softly, and tried to make his tone of comfort and reassurance.

After a pause he spoke again. "You have changed, beautiful one, to be stronger. I perceive you are ready to lead, and ready for greatness." Now he heard her speak of war. So this was what it had come to, a war to be where the future headed. He was filled with purpose, and thought a moment, only to remember her second part of the statement. The femme desired tattooing.

This was something he had not done for a long time, but he felt honored she trusted him to do this. He remembered the cants and illusioned words better than he remembered some of the past. He knew that he could provide her with the great service. He responded to her once more. "Very well, I would be honored to bestow upon you your True Markings," he began, dipping his crania in respect. "I shall scout the terra, and find a location suitable for the ceremony, and lead you there upon my return. I shall be away not long." With those words he turned and walked away. But it wasn't really away, for now he felt that a part of him was locked within Tyrina and this new tale. Now began tales of vendetta.

[/blockquote][/size]