Legends ofAmarna

Warning! The anathema is here.

The doctrine that poisoned the souls of many, that wrought blood against blood, life against life. Aspasia has not been the same, nor will it ever be. As history fades into legend, and legend into myth, so too are the whispers of peace that had once brought each of the races together in harmony. As such a time faded into history, so does the chaos grow - the resentment that breeds loathing - that brings about war.

With the world pitted against each other, each race, equines, canines, and felines taking sides, the question is, which side will you choose?

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Reserved Take These Broken Wings

played by Hermes

Amur Tiger
Whiteheart Savannah



Nightfall hangs its stars in the sky and sets the moon to start her race. With the blanket of lights strewn upon the world, many animals take leave of the waking realm and enter into their peaceful slumbers. 

Many, but not all. 

This is a time of peace, when wandering souls find respite from crowds. Icarus has always found the darkness to be his friend, hiding his form from passing eyes. The tiger slips between the bioluminescent trees, thinking how well he fits in with the glowing foliage that surrounds him. The blue flames that emanate from his tail, the glowing that originates from his markings, they all make the man so self-conscious of his form. 

Never one to seek attention for himself, Icarus has always felt uncomfortable in his own body. Only when the stars shine and the darkness takes hold over the land, does the man feel comfortable in his own skin. 

They say that the night is dark and unforgiving but Icarus knows the truth. In reality it welcomes the misfits, the undesirables, the lost and lonely. With wings of black, the night enfolds all and hides their flaws. That is why he slips through the glowing forest at this hour, exploring the strange, beautiful land. This is the witching hour when the magic floods the land.

A bush rustles to the right of him and Icarus pauses, terrified that someone will find him. Muscles become taut, coiling tight ready to spring the shadowy creature away from danger, should he need it. A cool breeze tickles his ears and runs its fingers through his fur. Icarus barely notices it. His attention is on the bush that continues to shake. Fear drives a stake into his heart and twists his guts. 

Suddenly, a wave of calm washes over his mind and Archimedes hops out from under the bush. Tense muscles relax and terror turns to relief. The little bluebird flies to Icarus’s head and grooms the fur around his perch. The tiger says, “You startled me Archimedes. I thought you were a big beast that was going to devour me.” The man did not exaggerate, he had thought the worst and the little bird had made such a ruckus in the undergrowth. 

Through their shared bond the bird sends peaceful thoughts and says, ‘I am sorry my friend but I found a very juicy worm. I had to chase it into the vegetation and wrestle it from the ground. I did not mean to cause you any undue stress.’ Archimedes chirped and fluffed out his feathers. With a shake of his little birdy head he started to sing to Icarus. The bluebird knows how much tiger enjoys his songs. 

A thought flits across Icarus’s mind as he starts to move again. He voices the subject to Archimedes, “Do you think that we are alone out here Archimedes?” The man had a vague feeling of being watched. Archimedes sends another wave of tranquility through his mind. ‘Do not fret my friend. We are safe.’ 

With a slight nod the tiger ignores the feeling and presses forward. The trees beckon him onward and Icarus follows their gnarled, pointing fingers. 

"Icarus speaks"
'Archimedes speaks''

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played by RARE




Night unfurled as onyx silk, cool upon the flesh as the fine hands of the goddess drew the horizon upon the eternal wheel. It had been dark for but a moment, a sweet farewell to dusk, vibrant and haunting and so very lonely. One would think such a time would be rapturous, volatile, a collision of day and night upon the harp, a twining of sounds competing for who would be heard above the rest. Yet, it was as if they knew not who to follow, a hushed wariness, a fear to hide amongst their burrows, the retreat, and the emergence. He mourned for their loss, for the divide that had rent this world in half, as night and day held tight with greed to those they both coveted and treasured. An upsetting obsession. Yet, Elias could not deny the calm of the hour was best spent in travel, where he need not fear the beasts who would trifle with the vagabond, both in curiosity or ego.

He was different again, a canvas of many colors thrown upon his head, an invisibility cloak that both hid him, and changed what they would see. Instead of the tricky squirrel, he was born to the sky, a silent passing of shadow and feathers. Elias did not oft take the shape of the sky children, they who bowed to none upon the earth, and who could never decide for themselves who would lead them. Instead, he chose the wisest, he whose eyes were always open. Each movement was met by the quietest of sighs, his wings strong, broad and constant, confident in their ability to ferry him to this place south of his dear forest. How strange, this new world was, yet so similar to the one he had helped shed light upon, the spark to the match that gave way to the flickering lamp. He who had always been a guide, now seeming to have nowhere to venture, no path to illuminate. Yet, he could only find hope in the truth, for it meant those who chose to wander, need not fear the path ahead.

Instead, he was free to fulfill his own desires, and one was no so important then to see this world, to know it fully. Elias had left  Beinn woods to follow on the winds of a riddle, the whisper of magic, of a place that held its own flame. It was a whimsical thought, a dream given breath in equal turn, and Elias knew, he had to see it. He could remember only one place, where the earth came to life with a glow of its own. As he flew, he saw the rivers, the fields, gilded light of many hues, as the depths of ruby and pearl when one gazed within, tempted by the riches and natural beauty. The barn owl hovered, a flickering crown of sparks above his crown the only thing that truly set him apart, before he tucked his wings and plummeted. Through the branches, only to snap open bronze and copper wings, their edges like fire silk, burning and red as he wound his way through the maze of trees. 

'Do you think we are alone Archimedes?'

So keen the ears of the owl, picking up the whisper on the wind, a temper in octave that spoke of fear and uncertainty. Poor creature, what stories they had lived to live in a place so beautiful, yet still flinch away from those he shared it with. Wisened eyes looked to his right, as he slowly made his approach, only to dip and land upon the branches. He had to resist his interest, a warm curiosity lighting a candle in his chest as the branch pulsed light, blue and cool where his talons embraced the smooth elm white. But there was a wanderer to find, one that was far more precious than his initial desires, and so, he peered down through the leaves, seeking out the voice in the undergrowth of many colors. At first, he nearly missed him, so in tune he was with his land, dark and illuminated by the blue flame. These were folks he was less familiar with, their paths taking them far from lands he walked. Ventri. He was not alone, a fellow sky child accompanied him, small in body yet mighty at heart. The owl, Elias, crooned in amusement. It was always those who were most small, who had the greatest of wanderlust. "Is a forest ever truly lonesome? What of the trees? What of all that creep and all that crawl? What of the fish in the rivers, and the birds in the branches?" his voice rang clear in the invisible spectrum, heard only by the cat, as was the fickle nature of the mind.

- 'We live in the Flicker.'

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