freedom

One of the free folk. iamus. "rebellion sits well on you; like a red coat or the gilt gold burnish of youth. (i do not believe we shall ever see how old age looks on you.)"

[illiasrivers-blog]

quiet | panya & illias

δύσμορος (dusmoros) ill-fated | for inspiration, listen here Beasts have pushed forward — the free folk are no longer safe, even on the outskirts of the city. Chance brought Panya (@panya-irvine) here; family kept Illias here. The pair come across each other and hear something neither expected: a deep, guttural noise that is like nothing natural in the woods. Between the trees, they glimpse something even more terrifying: a bull-like creature with horrific horns that smells them on the air.

There was no escaping the Keep, of that he was becoming certain. Every time he finally found himself clear of its borders, he was forced back inside. He wanted to mutter a hundred curses, but at least he was not alone this time around. At least there were no kings holding threats over their heads --- at least, that was what he told himself.

He wandered the edges of civilization in the hopes he would see something that would lead them far from here. The free folk had never allowed themselves to be trapped before, why would this prove any differently? Beasts approached them sometimes in the wilds, and beasts were sometimes killed as a result of it. Still, his people lived. There was nothing else to do. He gripped his spear, looking among the trees, when he heard the snap of a twig. Someone with light feet.

She was only a short distance away and had caught sight of him as well. No words left the pair; they were animals passing by, no more. It would have remained that way, if he did not catch a glimpse of deep brown lumbering in the distance --- a creature larger than any he had seen before. It was not the color alone that captured his attention. Fuck. Even from such a ways away, he could see brilliant, curved horns jutting from its head. Fuck, They caught on trees, and when the beast moved, the branches broke beneath the pressure. Fuck!

He mouthed a single phrase to the woman: “Follow me.” 

[criminalwisdom]

I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.

D.H. Lawrence, “Self-Pity” (via criminalwisdom)

[illiasrivers-blog]

neilsonrivers :

      He’d taken to settling near the quieter parts of camp, a place where he could get a good look at camp and watch the border carefully. After one of theirs hadn’t returned from a hunting trip, Neilson knew something wasn’t right here. Neilson turned his head up to Illias but didn’t pause his work. Just kept sliding the wetstone along the axe-edge. “Learned a long time ago I can’t ever be alone when you or your sisters are around.” He nodded to a fallen log at his side. “Want to help your old ‘Da out for a bit?”

“Not so fun bein’ alone --- had enough of that at the Keep, so I’d hate for you to think we’ve forgotten you.” The bright, constant noises of the camp were comforting in a way the city never had been ( although a part of him missed the lullaby that accompanied the sound of footsteps on stone paths ). He glanced toward the log and stood to his feet. “You must be gettin’ old. Of course, I’ll help.” 

[angelmonstrosity]

[illiasrivers-blog]

@neilsonrivers

It was quiet --- quiet in a way Illias had not experienced since he was in the wilds themselves. He took a seat beside the older man and a small smile found its way to him, slow but sure. Hopefully, this would be the start of a long span of quiet moments. ( Although, with the disappearances of a few in the woods, who could say? ) “If you wanted to be alone, there are better places to go, Da.” 

[galenvance]

full moon | illias&galen

[illiasrivers-blog]

galenvance :

At first he’d thought that they’d be able to share a couple  s o f t  words and be on their way. Apologize for what had happened, part on better terms. 

                           What a damned fool he was. 

The tenuous smile fell from Galen’s lips as his mate  ( still mine, Galen’s heart whispered with each beat, always mine ) tossed him an apple. He caught it with numb hands, fingertips smoothing over its waxed-red surface and—gods. He’d remembered. Of course he’d remembered. ( You’re still mine. ) Words he didn’t know how badly he’d been longing to hear spilled from Illias’s lips like a tidal wave, sharp and disjointed and somehow still better than any poem he’d ever read. Galen held his breath, red apple tucked against his chest as though he’d pulled his heart straight from it. Take it, he would have cried, it’s yours. 

The furs were beautiful. Though he wasn’t one of the free folk, Galen had a good idea as to the weight of what they signified; it made that hollow ache that’d developed deep in his chest days ago, the place Illias had lived ( had always lived ), pang. He stepped forward, wanting to reach out and pull the other close, but hesitation stilled him when there was still over a yard between them. It was almost painful to keep himself from extending a hand when they were so close, but…

“Until we join the stars, Illias,” he echoed softly. He paused again, then— “Imply one more time that I thought choosing you would make my life easier, and I’ll throw this apple at you.” This time the smile, however small, was real.

But it faded quickly, Galen’s expression clouding as he met his mate’s eyes for the first time in—how long had it been? Weeks, now. Weeks. “I honestly… wasn’t sure if you’d still want me after all this. That wasn’t a small disagreement.” He looked away. “I was cruel. And angry. I am still angry, and I have a feeling that I will always be. And I know your people don’t take such matters lightly… But, I… Gods, Illias. I miss you.”

The words were simple ones, but in their simplicity, they had to be the most beautiful damn things Illias had ever heard. The war was done, but he could finally taste the victory --- enjoy the freedom they had rightfully earned. Galen smiled, truly smiled, and Illias matched his expression. It was a brief moment, and it was enough. Things will be alright. It was not their end. Gods, he felt he needed to hear it a dozen more times to be certain it was truth. It was not their end. All those that left needed to leave; Galen was meant to stay. It was not their end. 

There was still a yard between them, and it felt too far. Aye, he remembered the cruel words that were said --- remembered the weight of them as they poured into the air and the look of them as they reflected in those blue, blue eyes that Illias loved so much. Did it matter? Yes. But those memories would be replaced by other things soon, and the cruel, angry words would blur together. 

“I don’t think I understand it still, after all they did and after all they let happen, but I’m trying to. I don’t want to be like...them, mindlessly killing and taking. But it’s done now. The old Queen and her son escaped, and we won’t hunt them down like animals. We’re ready to go home and leave these people, this cruel way of life, behind us.” Finally, finally, he stepped close enough to touch Galen, and he cupped the man’s neck, a calmness settling on him that was so rare. “I imagine I’ll be mad for a good long while too. Anger’s a fine emotion, a good one even. It’s not enough on its own to pull apart mates, and I... Well, I miss you too, Galen. Truly. So you’ll come home with me?” 

[illiasrivers-blog]

enyoxelise :

          “And here I thought you Free Folk were always ready for a fight,” Elise shot back, and her sword expertly whirled through the air as she flicked her wrist. “Ah, and you don’t? You wouldn’t let a fellow Northerner down like that, now would you? That would be disgraceful.” One could almost take her seriously, were it not for the grin that tugged her lips. The very next moment she found herself sword to sword with a rather mean-looking man. She pushed him off with a slight huff. “Careful now, before you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Depends on who we’re fighting.” He could almost hear Olena rolling her eyes, had she been there to hear. ( The pair had gotten into their fair share of trouble back in the wilds. ) He had been fighting to kill for so long, that to fight for the sheer purpose of a brawl brought a matching grin to his face --- a grin which only widened when one of the men landed a punch. 

“You don’t seem to be too good at fighting as a team,” he called out to her as he returned the favor to the man, hitting him with the bottom of his spear so that he fell to the ground. Illias quickly stepped over him to take on the next. Surely, the pair made for a fearsome sight, for a few of their opponents seemed to think better of their decision and backed away. “I wouldn’t worry about me. This? This is nothing.” 

[galenvance]

full moon | illias&galen

[illiasrivers-blog]

galenvance :

As you watch me wander, curse the powers that be. @illiasrivers

Galen hadn’t been able to resist saving his horse when the Lion’s Keep went up in flame, knowing that Bertrand deserved better than to be stolen by whoever came by him. The creature may have been a gift from Zion, but he was good, with a sweet temperament and a stubborn manner that had endeared him to Galen years ago. They’d been bonding over the past few days, making trips to the surrounding towns and dropping off a few people who needed the help. Soon, they’d be leaving together for good. It was all for the best, Galen figured; traveling by foot all the way to Highmeadow or Esterhaven would have been a feat he wasn’t equipped to attempt. 

                               ( If he did end up leaving, of course. He liked to think that, even after everything, he still had a chance to… )

It seemed everyone was leaving, either to another kingdom or, at the very least, to another city. He didn’t feel too guilty, though he would miss some parts of the home he’d known.

Galen shared a quick nod with the stablehand as he exited the structure, raking a hand through his hair. It was a bright day, blue and terribly happy; even the birds were back, tweeting cheerfully on rooftops and in the far-off trees. ( He didn’t notice how the sweet sound distracted from the scratch-step of booted feet walking down the dirt path leading to the stables. ) Galen figured the blue eyes—blue skies and birdsong should make him feel more lighthearted. He blinked away the sunlight as he stepped out the doors. 

… Of course.

“Hello, Illias,” he greeted, impressed by how calm he managed to sound. He couldn’t stop his eyes from sweeping over the other man, cataloguing every difference he could find since they’d last been face-to-face. That disastrous conversation rang in his mind, and he forced a smile. “I was under the impression that you weren’t fond of horses?” he asked, though the words fell somewhat flat. He couldn’t muster enough light in his voice, not when he felt twisted-up just from looking at the other. 

He had brought two things with him: an apple and a bundle tucked under his arm.

Of course, Illias had sought out Galen. 

There had been rumors the man was leaving, and true to his word, Illias meant it when he said he wouldn’t keep his mate there. ( Galen had been caged once; Illias would be damned if he did it to the other again. ) That didn’t mean he’d let Galen slip off without a word, as if they weren’t made together at the beginning. Promises were made, and promises would try to be kept. It did not take long to find Galen, and although Illias eyed the horse he led warily, his gaze fell on Galen immediately. Burning, burning, burning... It’s done, he wanted to say. Come home, he wanted to offer. Do you still regret setting eyes on me then, a quiet voice wanted to ask. 

“Horses are strange creatures, that’s why.” The smile that Galen gave him was wrong, and Illias remained where he stood, wanting to take a step forward to comfort the other man --- but how could he comfort Galen, when he was the cause of it? He’d do the same as he always had, giving everything he was, and in an offering of peace, he tossed the blond the apple. “I don’t want you to go, Galen. Gods, I don’t want you to go. I made you a damn promise, you hear me? Until we join the stars. Did you think it’d be easy?” It all came spilling out, far less eloquently than he’d wanted --- but he wasn’t an eloquent man, was he? He was a wildling, a wolf of the woods, a free man who could hardly read and couldn’t write. He wasn’t a lord of Westedell; he didn’t belong to the Realm. This, bared for Galen, was everything he was and everything he would be. “I don’t expect you to change your mind. I wouldn’t want you to. That’s not what mates are for. They’re for being by each other despite it all, and if you’re still wanting that, here...” 

He brought out the bundle, revealing the furs, those he had donned in battle, to Galen. They were clean now, beautiful in the same way the creature who it belonged to had once been. “It’s a show to the others that you’ve chosen me, and I’ve chosen you --- that you’re taken care of. It’s a promise too. Until we join the stars, Galen.”

[illiasrivers-blog]

enyoxelise :

           “Oh, come on, that can not be all you’ve got,” the warrior taunted, eyes gleaming as she lowered the sword and regarded her opponent. “I was expecting a real challenge.”

“And I wasn’t expecting to get into a fight this early --- seems we’re both disappointed here.” His own weapon seemed almost primitive in comparison to her own, but he clutched it readily all the same. “You really want a fight that bad?” 

[illiasrivers-blog]

elinor-ptolemy :

Ella froze, furrowing her brows into an eloquent scowl as the man took a seat opposite her.  She pursed her lips and slowly closed her book, the annoyance and anger in her motions glaringly apparent.  (Even to a stupid mortal.)  “…Hemingway.”  She bit out, tapping a long, elegant finger on the artist’s portrait on the back of the book in illustration.   Her sharp eyes sized up the curve of the bones under his skin, the strength of his shoulders…he was handsome, for a mortal, but what was it about him that spoke of the sky?  Or was it the sea?  Something…something cold, and dark…and ancient.  It was not the call of a siren, of her own distant family…and she distrusted it.

“Never much cared for him. He’s... Oh, what’s that word?” He tilted his head toward the sky, squinting at the brightness that stretched above him. It did not energize him in the same way the stars did, heavens splitting open in a symphony few could hear. He wondered briefly if she was one of them --- the scent of something mystic clung to her. “Pretentious, that’s it. You like him?” 

[illiasrivers-blog]

wxtchblood :

“Good.’ Cause it’s early and i don’t remember it. ” the witch shot back with a smirk, before slinging the bag of Rock salt over her shoulder, leaving stark streaks of white on her black cardigan. She hauled it across the shop to the front door, where she dumped with with a thud. “So.” Straightening up, Helena turned toward Illias with a grin “Whats up Dog?”

Their gazes met for a beat before he burst into laughter at the phrase. “Been workin’ on that one long, eh?” He ruffled her hair affectionately --- the wolf and the witch, who would have believed it to be possible for them to be friends? With a grin still on his face, he trailed through the shop, looking over the familiar shelves. “Big ole vamps strode into town the other day. I wanted to know if you were in a hunting mood. Looks like you got some fun things here that could be useful.” 

[enyoxelise]

            “Moments like these make me wish I didn’t have such a strong sense of smell…”

[illiasrivers-blog]

“Funny. I was just about to say the same.” 

[elinor-ptolemy]

“You are standing in my light.”  Ella sighed angrily, not bothering to look up from her novel at who the interloper might be.  She took a sip of espresso, thinking venomous thoughts and hoping their stupid shadow would leave the page, and quickly.

[illiasrivers-blog]

“I didn’t think you were reading --- just wanted to find a nice spot to sit.” With the small explanation, Illias quickly took a seat. The negative air around the woman seemed to quiver, which he promptly ignored. “Nice day out, yeah? What are you busy reading?” 

[illiasrivers-blog]

wxtchblood :

“Jesus!-sorry, sorry, you scared me…Welcome to Paraphernalia“

“I guess I’ve got a light foot,” he returned with a slight grin. “Don’t worry --- I won’t be expecting you to give me the whole customer spiel this time.” 

[illiasrivers-blog]

➛ Name: Illias Rivers.

➛ Species: Werewolf.

➛ The Story: Freedom --- how could anyone know it without running beneath the moon, howling at the light of the evening hours? Illias was born into a pack, and the pack mentality remained with him throughout his years growing up. They went where they pleased, ensuring they didn’t harm any innocents who strayed too near... But for the vampires who dared again and again to trespass on their territory, the RIvers clan would sooner rip them apart than see them taint their town’s life.

Because of his family’s unique disposition, Illias did not come of age as humans did, although he retained a strong kinship with them. When he was not standing beside them in rallies against injustices of their own, he was holed up in his favorite diner, writing about a world they could never fully comprehend. It was no wonder that he gathered the strangest collection of friends throughout the years --- a witch, an incubus ( friend was a loose term; mate was far more apt ), and other wild things. 

Some would call him a bum for the way he lived his life, but Illias understands what is most important to him, to his pack, to their world. It’s far from a lonely life, and the man would have it no other way. 

➛  Bonus:

[illiasrivers-blog]

radiance | self

Illias Rivers recalled the first time he had entered the city --- how large the Keep had loomed, how much of a shadow it cast over its citizens. It was the single most dividing factor of the supposedly great city: a place where the rich little lords and ladies sat and ate and condemned everyone outside those stone walls to a slow death. To see it BURN, to see it AFLAME... The boundary between rich and poor crumbled into ash, and no, it did not solve everything, and no, not all of the guilty had perished with the Lion’s Keep. It did not matter. This was revolution; this was a people given their power back. 

...And the free folk could go home. In the red flame, he remembered the small fires of their camp. In the scent of smoke, he remembered those they had to burn in pyres, whose bodies were fuels for the forest around them and whose souls lit the night skies above. In the unity of the free folk that watched the scene, he remembered what it was to be at peace --- that elusive, damning peace. It was an incomplete moment, missing that familiar body beside his own, but it was a moment that would define them all.

The scene was radiance, ruination, revelation.  The scene was  unsatisfying.  The scene was billowing smoke and words spoken in the brilliant light that he could not understand. 

The Keep burned, and Illias Rivers recalled the first time he had entered the city. The Keep had loomed above all others, but now, they loomed above it. They were stronger than the castle, stronger than those with titles unearned. In the fall of the Keep, the people had risen, and Illias tried to enjoy the feeling stirring in the air --- a mixture of uncertainty and a wild, untamed hope. He turned away from the crumbling stone, from the very thing he had devoted himself to achieving. “It’s done now.” 

It’s done. 

[buckypupbarnes]