Hope's Rebellion moved slowly down the sandy surface of the terrain. She was unsure why she had chosen this place to come of all places. The banshee hated sand, hated the way it stuck to your fur and hooves. How water seemed to only attract more of these annoying grains. And the waves seemed to only annoy her as well, climbing in and out of the shore, never making up it's mind. Why could it be like a lake and never move, be content with where it has been chosen to be. Maybe she hated it because it reminded her of herself. But to overcome that annoyance type of hate the sound of the crashing waves couldn't help but soothe her nerves, a sound that would never suddenly disappear. Now matter what time she returned to this place the sound of crashing waves was ever faithful, always there to greet her. And the sight that beheld her was breath taking, how the crystal blue stood out against the bright yellow. The clear sky or dark night provided her shelter during her casual strolls. Yes Rebel had been spending much of her time here, avoiding the other equines. She had yet to return home and contemplated returning to the Dark Lord's terra, a place she had left just before her dam had died.

She would be welcomed there like a hero, unlike at the neutral or light lands. The dark king had returned thanks to her. But the dark way of life was a way of life she had long since forgotten during her time with the neutral prince. Well technically not prince...seeing as he wasn't the heir. But her love just the same. Yes she was trapped and had no idea which way to turn. So this is why she spent her days at this beach, to straighten out her thoughts, destroy her annoying pride, and try and pick a path to follow. Beside who would she stand? Her love or her family? Being dark was part of her, it was how she was raised. She was even sired by the dark god. So why was it so hard to leave them and join those she cared most for?

Kota was romping threw the lands, her daggers touching the hot sand which made her go faster. She slowed to a halt when she seen another equine , she could tell it was dark. Kota really didn't care who her friends where, not matter what side. She was born into the light and wasn't aloud to change sides. She looked around, and trotted so far to the water and walked into the water, it was felt good against her pelt.

The femme had paused at one point of walking as she began to get lost in her thoughts. So she stood watching the ocean with a dull far away stare as the waves slowly lapped her hooves. Her thoughts moved away from the beach as a new sound drifted to her ears. A slight snort escaped from her nares as she realized it was another equine. Annoyance was her first reaction but it slowly ebbed away as more pressing matters began to drift back into her thoughts. Her visionaries finally moved towards the young femme in the water. She silently watched for a moment, not sure if she should say anything. Perhaps the banshee had yet to notice another czarina was on this terrain. Though Rebel was not territorial and had no big problems with the young mare using the beach as well. Her optics watched the wench until she drew closer.

"'Lo."

Rebel said, a simple term but it was a friendly act for her. Normally she would just leave and return home, run the femme off the land, or just ignore her. Maybe she was changing, she wasn't the dark she had been before. She was loosing that mean and cruel streak that used to take over many of her actions and thoughts. What next, soon the proud royal would be doing something crazy like befriending Dancer.

Kota took heed of knowing you could never trust a dark. But Kota didnt care, she walked forward a little was to the mare. She give a short nicker, not wanting to over do any of her welcome. She looked around and started to splash in the water, but watched what she was doing. Again her orbs looked around, watching the other equine.

[.x.]Dancer ambles quietly over the golden terrain, the waves skimming her ebonite daggers, rising up to her lower pillars. Smiling slightly to herself, the alabaster femme admires the beauty of these lands with awe, the rippling waters having an oddly calming effect on her. She has come here to think, needing the open spaces and quiet surroundings to sort out the mass of thoughts buzzing through her mind at the moment. The most important of which being the vision she had of the Gods, telling her she was to be grated another power. The power to raise the dead. Dancer doesn't know yet whether the dream was just that - a dream, or an actual vision. She hasn't tried the power out yet, and, truth be told, she doesn't really know how to. Why, if at all, has she been granted another burden to carry? Now, with Elessar and Hacer to think of, she cannot afford to get mixed up in things like this. Why couldn't she just have a normal life? As Legesain has put into perspective for her, she is just a Princess. It is really up to Autumn to destroy the Darks for good. So why have the Gods placed another burden upon her? A slight sigh escaping her kissers, the alabaster vix halts and stares out to the ocean, wishing for something to happen, anything that will put her mind at rest, and let her know what she has to do.

Suddenly the scent of another vix is carried on the wind to Dancer's nares. Jerking out of her thoughts sudddenly, shaking her cran as she is almost overwhelmed as all her senses return to her, her soft amber visionaries catch the form of another femme, galloping freely upon the sand apparently without a care in world. Watching her, knowing how her obvious innocence of all things dark and evil will soon be ripped from her, her orbs follow her racing form, which comes to rest by the side of another femme. One that looks strangely familiar. Taking a few steps forward, a suspicious snort escaping her librims, she suddenly realises that it is Rebel, the Cursed femme who seems to have marked her out as her blood enemy. Remembering their last meeting on the Beach, where Rebel attacked, and addmitedly, almost killed her, she feels her dislike for the vix grow, and a snarl rise in her throat.

But as she watches the femme, she suddenly realises what power Rebel possesses. The power to control death. Of course - she must have been guided here for a reason. Her and Rebel obviously are meant to put aside their differences and work together to... to do what? Taking a few steps forward, the Sacred Princess looks upon Rebel with dislike blazing in her orbs. How on earth is she meant to work together with this wench? She has already tried to kill her once, and if she tries it again, Dancer will have no qualms in trampling her into the dust. But, she thinks, if their powers were used to work against each other rather than together, it could destroy what they have come to know. Lidding her orbs briefly, knowing the only reaction Rebel will have to her advances is to probably spit in her face and scorn her. But she has to try.

Three-beating up to the duo slowly, orbs fixed upon Rebel as she apprantly converses with the femme aside her, Dancer allows a whicker to escape her kissers to announce her presence to the two. Slowing coming to a halt, resisting the strong temptation to strike out at Rebel, Dancer parts her kissers and speaks to the wench with a forced politeness and civility in her tones, trying to restrain a snarl in her vocals.

"Rebel - I need to talk to you. Alone." she says, her stiff tones utterly emotionless. Gaze resting upon her cran for a moment, Dancer meets her orbs and raises her cran slightly to the same level as Rebel's, her orbs filled with utter sincerity, letting the wench know, without words, that her intentions are strictly honourabe, and she is not leading her into a trap. Awaiting a response, Dancer stomps slightly upon the geo with her fore flint, hoping that the wench will see sense and follow her to a place where they can talk. [.x.]

The dark enchantress watched as the other belle moved slightly closer. She wondered if the femme was being cautious due to Rebel's appearance. Though after a few moments a nicker was heard in response. But before Rebel could even reply the scent of another drifted towards her on the salty wind. Just as well, the mare had been at a lost of what to say to the newcomer and still avoid a conversation. Her cran turned to gaze at the new equine, wondering slightly if it was a friend of the light fem. But what sight greeted her eyes made Rebel wish she had indeed started that conversation. It was Freedom, not standing too far off. The dark wench snorted in disgust, she had no wish to converse with her enemy, especially now that her temper was shot and frustration caused by other things were pent up inside her. Still the thought of a fight was slightly pleasing. A good fight would indeed allow Rebel something to vent on and would make her feel better...at least for a little while. Still the wretch knew too well that Little Miss Perfect wouldn't dare fight without having this long drawn out discussion on how she was doing right and Rebel's kind was the reason for all the misery in the world. This thought caused another cruel and amused snort to take over the silence. It was horses narure to fight and kill. Even the lights would eventually do it to each other. Not to mention that not all lights were good, many turned. Nu'man, the stag that took over some distant land and slaughter many causing Aalaya to find this sanctuary, was indeed a light.

No, the world was not black and white. It was a thousand shades of grey. Even so, Rebel could not bring herself to take this shades of gray thing into perspective and forget about this childish bickering between her and Dancer. No, there was something about the light Princess that simply irked the dark Lady. She doubt Rebel would ever let her hatred towards the wench go. In fact she had tried to kill the silly light right here on this beach. If it weren't for Dancer's powers she wouldn't be standing here today. Undeniably Rebel was one of the best fighters in the lands, and yet she still refused to give her full aliiance to anyone. It just shows, you may be born a fighter but it's wasted if you have nothing to fight for. Her gaze moved towards the whitecapped waves, only to be torn from that veiw and quickly fixed on the light wench once more. She watched as Moonlight Dancer took a few steps forward. Rebel's glare blazed with bloodlust and hatred, she was ready to fight if needed and she was making that clear. And yet the idiot mare kept moving. Her lips curled backwards to show white perals as a low snarl escaped loud enough for all the equines to hear over the crashing waves.

Like a cornered animal, the banshee was making it clear for Dancer to turn around and leave and no blood would be spilled. She was actually warning her enemy, instead of waiting till she was closer and simply attacking. This act alone was generous of Rebel. But Dancer only continued to come forward at a faster pace. Rebel rushed forward as well, not giving her enemy the uperhand of momentum. As Dancer drew to a halt Rebel did so as well but kept her distance. She snapped outward, warning Dancer not to come closer. Her sonar laid flat against her skull and her teeth made small clamping noises as she snapped at the air in aggitation. Her dislike and anger towards Dancer was clear. Normally the light Princess would have ran away by now, acting like she had done the civil thing by approaching her enemy and continued to bother her, then act like Rebel was some savage because the fem had decided not to associate with the equine that annoyed her in the first place. The wench listened to the sun kisser's words with a snarl. She could tell very well that the filth could barely even keep her voice at a civil tone. So why pretend? If Dancer did not want to speak with the banshee then why approach? Rebel gazed at the princess with a defiant and haughty look.

"Well seeing as your tones are hardly what one would call friendly, I don't think I will be going anywhere alone with you sun kisser."Rebel said as calm as possible, though she could not keep the coldness or hatred out of her words. Her gaze flickered back to the young banshee trotting in the water. Her smooth legs made the waves splash up and droplets fly into the air like small diamonds. An innocent soul caught in a time of violence. It was the same kind of heartbreaking thing you saw in young foals, unware of the evil that was waiting in their fate. For a moment she considered following Dancer and hearing what she had to say. No, she reminded herself. Dancer may be a light but they were on different sides. After all, all is fair in love and war. She wouldn't put it past the lights to trick a few good darks into their deaths. For they all knew few lights would stand a chance against the ruthless monsters pledged to the shadows. Her optics narrowed slightly at Dancer's flint movement. A display of impatience perhaps? Well Rebel was going nowhere alone with the wretch. She may be a good fighter but she was a goner if she was lead into a trap where it was a herd against one. No, whatever the sun kisser needed to say she could say it right now or never.

She despised her. There was no question about that, the rigid set of her jaw and the blazing look in her eyes made it painfully obvious. And yet, as the rolling waves left white and silver foam lingering on the shoreline, Dancer felt a strange sense of similarity between her and the mare opposite her. They were natural enemies, yes, and just like the leaders of the feuding alliances, the other royal kin shared in the animosity. But Dancer had never once stopped to question that judgement. She was a Light. Rebel was a Dark. And that was the end of the matter. They were expected to throw all their anger and rage against another, who, she mused silently, had actually done nothing to harm her until the time of the battle. That's just the way it is. Some things never change. These thoughts flowed freely from her mind with a certainty that shocked even her. Yet she found herself doubting this judgement. Tentatively, she searched her mind, and found, admittedly with less surprise than the previous thought, she had no real reason to dislike the femme - even if more than once her very life had been at stake whilst facing her. She guessed it was the same for Rebel too. However annoying the mare found her, she hadn't ever actually done anything to deserve the animosity she was recieving from the femme as she advanced.

Like Rebel, Dancer found herself mulling over the fact that the world was not black and white. In other words, not every Light was an angel sent from heaven, and not every Dark was sent from the bowels of hell by Satan himself. It was not only grossly unfair to hold this view against another, it was also damn stupid. Dancer could honestly say in all her years of life she had never come across a Dark so evil that she had not even spared a thought over the possibility a shred of goodness could still linger inside their soul. Except for Legesain. And that is why we need to work together. It was downright unnatural for someone to be as twisted as him, to be so consumed by revenge and hatred that poison seemed to seep from every breath he took. She had never met an equid so deranged as him, and she truthfully never wanted to again. He needed to be stopped - now, and the only way to do that was by swallowing her pride and reaching out to the mare whom, until a few days ago, she would have happily stamped into the ground without a moments hesitation.

She would do whatever needed be done to save her family and alliance, even if that meant making a pact with a mare that Dancer knew she never could be fully friends with. But if it had to be done, it had to be done, and who was she to prevent an agreement that might just save them all? Legesain would not stop at taking the Light lands. He would turn on the Neutrals once they had fulfilled their purpose as his lowly minions. And this time there would be no Lights around to help them. They would all be slaughtered, and the Darks hold on the lands of Dreams would probably never end. After all, he was immune to all perils of the flesh, so why the perils of time too?

Her thoughts cut off abruptly as she realised Rebel was talking to her. She had been too engrossed in her thoughts to catch what she had said, but judging by the look on her face it was obvious she was still too suspcious of the Princess to follow her anywhere. What a bloody idiot. It was obvious Dancer had to say what she wanted right here, right now if Rebel was to even give her words a moments notice. Right then. An awkward silence grew between them as tried to decide how best to phrase what she had to say. She only had one chance at his, and if Rebel didn't believe her then Legesain would find out about her ability sooner than she had hoped. She put all her trust in the fact that the mare was still torn between sides, and obviously could not come to a descision by herself. Suddenly a larger wave cascaded onto the shore and then retreated back to the vast ocean. Her eyes tracing the horizon, Dancer's gaze was suddenly drawn to a small orange crab that had obviously been washed onto the beach by the wave. It lay there, perfectly still, and after a time it was obvious to Dancer that it was dead. Of course - if I can't tell her, then I'll show her. She whickered softly to get Rebel's attention, and closed her eyes. She was all too aware of the risk that, by closing her eyes, it left her vulnerable to an attack, but Dancer only hoped that Rebel would be too intrigued by her actions to realise that fact. There was a perfect silence, a stillness in the air than Dancer was incredibly grateful for. She had never done this before, and she didn't have a clue what was going to happen. Suddenly, and before either of them had realised what was happening, the crab stirred. It flipped itself over with an agility Dancer wouldn't expect of such a bulky creature, and, after a brief moment of surprise, scuttled off, away from the two larger creatures and towards the rockpool a few feet away.

Dancer felt a brief moment of elation as she realised what she had done, but that quickly gave way to tiredness. It was not much, but her muscles and joints began to give sharp jolts of protest every time she moved, and the Princess guessed it was because of the amount of energy it had taken to raise the dead. And that was only a crab. She mulled over these facts for a moment before turning back to Rebel. This time there was no hesitiation - the words flowed freely from her, strong and clear in the perfect silence.

"He's needs to be stopped Rebel. He's not going to stop with the destruction of my kind. He'll kill everything that stands in his way to domination - you and your son included, until nothing is left but madness. Thats a fact you and I both know only too well.

I can't do this on my own. And neither can you. We need to put aside our difference and work together, not against each other."

Dancer resisted the urge to add for now on the end of that last sentence. It wouldn't help anything, and who knows, maybe she would even grow to like the mare after this was over. Ha. Don't be stupid.

So there they stood, like some kind of final battle. Well...except for the fact that Rebel had not quite pictured it this way. The femme had come to the conclusion that one of their demise would be at the hand of the other. She had just figured one of the two warrioresses would perish in the final battle against each other, it only seemed right. Why? Because they were deemed enemies and there was no greater victory than that of the death of your enemy. No greater death either, to be killed by a random sun kisser would be disgusting and shameful. If her death was to happen she would rather it be against a great enemy than one she barely knew. Still, the enviroment was not as she had imagined it. The banshee had pictured a battle raging in the background. The land in ruins as a result of the constant fighting. Her and the white wench squaring off, both thirsty for revenge. The nirvana type beach and the playing mare in the distance seemed to only mock the expected battle. But Rebel knew Dancer had not came here to fight, it was not the light way. She was here to annoy and piss off Rebel until the dark femme got physical. That was the light way. Rebel said nothing for a moment as the two regarded each other. Dancer was probably questioning what had brought the two to this point, while Rebel simply critizied the light whore. Waiting for some kind of move so that she could attack. The silence was strained as the air was heavy with the dislike the czarinas held for each other. Their differences were obivious and outweighed whatever few similarities the two might have shared, this is what made them enemies. Fate had made it too plain, as if fate herself had decided the two were to be great enemies. An angel and a demon. Neither had much choice, it was how they were raised. They never questioned their placement in life. Someone had to be the good guy and someone had to be the bad guy. That's just the way it was and Rebel was fine with that.

It was a pity this would all end soon once one race took over, for the banshee lived for battle. There was no doubt the gods had carved her to kill many. It was what she was good at, it was what she did. Just like Dancer would always be martyr to the cause or the healer of the sick. The world needed both just like it needed for them to be enemies. Shades of grey? Rebel's gaze only found black and white. The world was simple and it had already provided answers for the equines of this land. The warrioress accepted that a long time ago, it was time others did to. Her dagger suddenly struck out at the sand restlessly. The femmora was loosing patience, she would have no problem walking out of this terrain and going home without hearing Dancer's words. She doubt the wench had anything to say that the dark would want to hear. Then Dancer's gaze moved, curious Rebel followed it. But she was dissapointed when her optics settled on a deceased crab. Rebel snorted rudely to show her aggravation. The sun kisser was probably mourning the past life of the small crab. The nymph tossed her cran towards the heavens in frustration, the princess had wasted enough of her time with useless chat. The bruja turned suddenly and began to stalk off in the opposite direction. Dancer's whicker fell on deaf ears. If she wanted to talk to Rebel they could meet again. next time on the battlefield. The wretch was brought to a sudden halt as a small crab that looked vaguely familiar scurried ahead of her. Her gaze slowly moved back towards where the dead crab had sat and saw it was missing. Her optics fell upon a tired looking Dancer and a snarl began to form upon the bella's librims. Her power was shared by another, her only enemy.

Her rage grew as she stormed back towards the sun kissing wench. Her velvets parted as loud and harsh tones were casted into the air. "So I see we have aquirred a new power have we? Of course, because we couldn't have the perfect princess Dancer without any kind of upperhand. I gift from your god I pressume." Her curses were pratically shouted as her snarl slowly became a sneer as she noticed just how exhausted Dancer was. "Your new power has come with a cost." Rebel stated without emotion, she simply watched. If that was the effect of a crab the lights were screwed anyway. There was no way the princess was going to be able to raise a full equine. And she could expect no help from Rebel. Now the banshee was sure that was what the sun kisser had came for. Still the fem wasn't so tired she couldn't function, just her rigid way of moving gave it away. Pity, Rebel would have finished her off while the moment was opportune. Rebel was silenced as Dancer began to speak. There was no need to excplain who he was. Her body went rigid as she wondered if the light had figured out that it was she who brought back the devil from the dead. The czarina quickly composed herself as her facade returned to it's hard and cold look. He will kill you and your son. Rebel snorted loudly. "You speak as if I stand in his way. Unlike some I have nothing to worry about, I am a loyal dark. It is you who should worry about your kin." Rebel said coldly, with more certainty than she felt. But she would not let her enemy know of her questioning thoughts. "Work together towards what? Raising an army of crabs from the dead one by one?" The nymphora sneered sarcastically. It was obvious who would be doing all the work. Like a crutch for the lights. She thought not.

Besides why would she help the lights. She was dark, no matter who she had been betrothed to. She loved her mate, but not as much as her son. She knew what it would take to keep her young colt alive and she was willing to do so. There were a lot of things about the darks she didn't agree with but there were a few more things she did agree with. Rebel felt their ideas of survival of the fittest and ruthless ways to survive were the kind of things that would keep equines alive. The darks were warriors, just like in the ones that had held out in the desert during Aalaya's days. There were some fierce lights but most had been softened by years of "love" between each other. They were weak, mercy could only get your so far. The codes of honor had died with the passing winds. Life was cruel and you had to be just as cruel to survive. Legesain would win the darks their lands, but he was unpredictable, ready to turn on them just as quickly. The lights would stand by them but that meant nothing when it went from standing together to perishing together. Then before the wench could stop herself, the words were flowing. "I want to live and I will kill to live. I can live with that and the lights can't. What do they offer other than death? While there are equines like Legesain ruling you don't stand a chance. He could kill us all without an army. Besides, you top on his list to kill, it would be foolish to ally with you." She said with a mixture of pleading and fact in her voice. This was how things were, Dancer had to realize that. Just because the lights had signed themselves up for destruction doesn't mean that Hope's Rebellion needed to.

[.x.] The silence that stretched between them served more purposes than just to make them both feel awkward. It allowed them both a welcome chance to think. A humourless smile twitched upon Dancer’s lips as the dark mare before her took note of their surroundings. It was a setting familiar to them both, since the last time she had met Rebel here the wench had almost killed her. Actually, she would have killed her had it not been for Lana’s interruption, and the mare felt a stab of gratitude toward the dead equine who had always tried to stop the endless fighting between the alliances. But, she noted with an air of resignation, the fighting would never stop, at least, not until one of the races was gone from these lands forever. And even then there would be other enemies, other challengers, other equines who would cause the death of so many. The world would never be free of hate, a fact that both her and Rebel were certain of. So why did she fight? Unsurprisingly, she found herself struggling to come up with an answer. It wasn’t because she had to, as she wouldn’t need any persuasion to walk onto a battlefield. It was partly because of those she loved, and how she wanted to ensure a better future for them, but not the whole of the answer. It was because she enjoyed fighting, to tell the entire truth, so her and Rebel were not so different in that respect. They both had strong, warrior spirits, and would prefer to resolve something physically that to try diplomacy, which more often that not just delayed the battle. Dancer knew that the now inevitable battle that was drawing ever closer would not be stopped by diplomacy, nor would it even be momentarily halted. It raged towards them all, throwing aside all attempts to peacefully deal with it. It was the time of war, and not one of them could stop it.

Dancer knew that the dark mare before her would be all too happy to fight her. She wouldn’t mind it herself, needing something to release her frustration on would certainly calm her down a lot. She even felt the familiar rush of adrenalin pumping through her veins for a moment, and was actually starting to plan her first move before Rebels words broke through her thoughts. She listened to Rebel with difficulty, all the voices in her head telling her to attack the femme in front of her before she could suspect what she was going to do. Yet she still refused, knowing that if she did so Rebel would never even listen to her, let alone consider what she had said. Her utterly childish idea of the world being split into three clear personalities was tough enough to talk through as it was, without having her lunging for her throat every second aswell. It was like Rebel was blinkered, unable to see past the disputes of the alliances and accept that someone from the opposite alliance was not necessarily her mortal enemy. Dancer had been taught that from a young age and that was what she believed, no matter what Rebel or anyone else said. And it wasn’t just because of her alliance either that she believed that. Being a light didn’t automatically mark you as an angel, and everything they did wasn’t perfect. You had to spend time with Lights to really understand them, just as Dancer suspected you had to with the Darks. Her alliance, like the darks, were perfectly prepared to kill to survive, and this view that everyone had of the perfect little cherubs who always got on with each other and who could never hurt a fly was complete crap. In fact, it actually worked to their advantage, as no one would suspect a light could be that vicious until they were at your throat. Like Rebel, Dancer disagreed with some things about her alliance but agreed with it for the most part. Yes, they showed mercy more often than others, but there was no problem with that unless your victim absolutely had to be killed. The darks considered them weak for it, but that was the way they lived, and she supposed they would never be able to accept that.

The mare snarled loudly as Rebel lashed out with a foreleg. Even though the blow wasn’t destined for her, Dancer still found herself wanting to return the blow, but once again restrained herself from doing so. As she looked up she saw the cold fury outlined in Rebel’s eyes and couldn’t help but smile. It was only a small twitch in the corners of her librims, but a smile nevertheless. Rebel spoke, and Dancer listened, her voice growing in anger as she spoke. Well, duh, she though scathingly as the mare pointed out who had given her the power. Your father was hardly going to give me it was he?. ‘Your father’, of course - she had only just remembered of her ancestry. She was half light herself wasn’t she? The forced daughter of Eclipse, who had left these lands long ago, and was probably dead now. Horses didn’t usually last long on their own, and a mare like her would have easily fallen prey to wolves – or worse. It was why they all stuck together in herds, as they had done for countless millennia. Rebel had been thought lost to the darks the moment Eclipse left her in Bloody Basin, and, although she couldn’t really blame her, Dancer felt a slightly resentment toward the femme. If only she had stuck it out… she might not be in this position today. If only…. With a soft, self mocking snort she turned back to Rebel. ‘If only’ was used by dreamers, and those that lived for the past rather than the present. If only she had never gone to ask for Aalaya’s training, she would never have gotten involved with Legesain. If only she never gone to see Legesain at the Waterfall, she would not be on the top five equines on his hit list. She listened to the mares next words with growing interest. It was true - she had used up lots of energy raising the crabs soul and she could only hope it would get easier with practice. Healing didn’t take this much power now, but Dancer remembered with amusement when she had struggled to even heal a graze.

She listened to the mares next words with growing interest, but not before she had noticed the look of surprise that had momentarily flitted across her face when ‘he’ was mentioned. Why hadn’t she realised it before? Rebel was the one who had raised Legesain back from the dead. Rebel was the one who had probably doomed them all. She wanted to scream at the femme for being so stupid, but the only hint of her anger was the slight swish of her tail.

”He may have a debt to you Rebel, but do you really think that’s going to bother him? There's no use in sitting around waiting for him to turn on you - which even you know he'll do to your entire alliance eventually. Yes, he may be able to kill us all without an army. Yes, he may kill us all anyway. But at least we can say we tried. ”

She spoke her words simply, although the passion was clear in her eyes as she spoke. If Dancer believed anything in this life, it was that things didn't happen unless you fought for them. And that was exactly what she planned to do. [.x.]

"He has no quarrel with me!" The words practically tumbled out of Rebel's mouth in a high pitch scream. Her days of confusion and frustration was finally getting to her. She wasn't sure if she had even allowed Dancer to finish her sentence but there it was. Dancer had to fight Legesain, she would have to die. But not Rebel. Rebel would live, even if it was a hard life she would live. Her son would live. Why would she mess that up? Dancer dared call herself noble for rising up against Legesain and dooming her own family. There was no nobility in that. No honor in condeming your bantles like that. Maybe past kings this would have seemed a good idea. Rebel was true to her word, she feared no mortal. Even the King of Kings she would fight with courage. But he was mortal and Legesain was not. There would be no fight, Legesain would win end of story. Unless Rebel of course sent him back, but she wasn't prepared to even try that. Besides the King of Darks still believed his precious mate was the one who brought him back. He was completely oblivious to the fact that the wench had came to Rebel for help as a favor towards her sire. Rebel had agreed, though she was unsure how she was swayed at the time. Perhaps it was because the Neutrals we beginning to doubt their loyalty towards the shadowed. The banshee firgured that the rebirth of the King would seal the deal. "You are a fool Dancer and you will always be one. You come to me for help and expect what? Do you honestly think I would risk my own life for you?" Rebel said coldly. It was true, what the Princess expect. For the dark lady to suddenly turn into an angel and help the underdogs of the situation. To doom herself and all she loved for Dancer.

The mare backed away tossing her cran. The light femme was asking too much. It was now Rebel's duty to tell her father about this new power. The King could know by nightfall. It was expected of her. But as she neared about five feet away she stopped, looking back towards the mare playing in the distance. How wonderful it would be to feel like that again. Rebel's cran tipped to the side as she struggled to remember if she had even felt that way. The dark life didn't have room for weakness like affection or playfulness. So really, the young enchantress had never felt that way. She suddenly felt pitiness for herself, surprisingly. Not just for herself, but for other young darks. Again it brought her to that was the way things were. To create the strong you must be strong. The darks were fighters because they didn't let emotions get in the way. But then again, there was always another option. The czarina's gaze rose to look at the light princess standing in the distance. For once Rebel was needed not to fight or kill, but to help create change. Not to conquer but to save others from defeat.Was the brave thing to bury your hopes and dreams for what was smart or to risk it all for what was right? She stood there thinking, a serious part of her contemplating actually agreeing to help. But there would be no turning back. She would eventually have to answer for her actions, in this life or the next. But to live a life fighting for something that few will fight for, would it be worth it? The darks had strength, they were descended from warriors and lived a warrior life. They were conquered by few. But the light had hope, they were descended from warriors and in times of needed had a true warrior's spirit.

So who was greater? Those who fought like warriors or those who believed like them.Rebel was stuck at a fork in the road and she didn't know which way to go. The easy road or the one less attempted. She would die witht he lights there was no question about that. And she would live with the darks...perhaps. But if she didn't die in battle a few years more of life would be granted to her before time would take her. But when her time came would she regret the life she chose? Perhaps Rebel then would wish she had the chance to go back and choose to help those that needed help and yet believed they had a chance. Or what if this was her destiny, perhaps she is supposed to go with Dancer. Maybe more of her mother lurks within her than her sire. Perhaps even the demon of hell himself was unable to taint her blood after all these years and she was always supposed to reside with the lights. The wretch took a shaky step forward before pausing once more. Her actions of this day could very well affect her life and the lives of others. A wind picked up across the sand, moving the small grains and carrying them with it for a few feet. The waves began to crash into the sand harder and harder, high tide was approaching. Her optics raised towards the endless sky, seeing the sun beginning it's journey downward to be replaced by the moon. Each day it fought and yet at the end it always lost to the enchanting moon. Perhaps that was the way it was for everything. There would never be a time without fighting. Just new reasons to fight and hope. Her gaze returned to her enemy in the distance.

"Why do you need my help? Can't you just ask your god to give more powers to your people. Plus I thought you had alliance to the Neutrals. My alliegence will make no difference." Rebel said calmly, it was true. The final outcome was written in the stars, no one equine could change that. It was just a game to the gods, they had probably decided who was to die and who was to live. Maybe grant the remaining equines a few years of peace before they bestowed more unfortune onto the land. What did they care, we were pitful mortals that amounted to nothing. Here for fate's amusement.

[.x.] Dancer fell silent abruptly as Rebel screamed out at her, drowning out anything else she might have wanted to say. It was obvious from her tone how agitated the mare was getting, and she felt a twinge of pity for the femme, knowing what a a difficult place this descision put her in. Either path she took would be dangerous, there was no doubt about that, but sometimes you had to sacrifice your own wishes for the good of others. Even so, that was all too easy to say, as to actually do it was another thing. It was considered a noble thing to throw away your own life to save others, yet Dancer very much doubted Rebel was bothered with nobility. The seasons had come and gone, and, with the gradual passing of time, had taken the old beliefs of honour and valour with them. Now every horse lived for themself, not giving a damn about anybody else if it meant saving their own skin. Only a few true warriors were left, and most of those had become reclusive, preferring to distance themselves from the world and all its inhabitants, gradually growing ignorant of all the lands troubles. Unlie Rebel, Dancer had accepted the fact that she probably wouldn't live to see these days renewed. But she was going to do everything in her power to make sure little Elessar didn't get killed aswell. It was unfair to drag the young ones of this world into it, such as the young femme frolicking in the waves only a few feet away. Like Rebel had said, there was no honour in that. It wasn't their war to get wrapped up in.

As Rebel spoke, Dancer found herself in Rebel's position. It was easier for her, she had been born into a place and that was where she had stayed, not betrothed to a stranger from another land, used merely as a pawn to ensure an alliance. To bear the bantle of someone she hardly knew, and then probably doom them all by raising Legesain's spirit once more. Strangely, the mare found herself feeling sorry for the mare, but at once she stopped herself. This was her enemy, the one she was meant to kill, or be killed by. They seemed to have been locked an intertwining path of fate, as everything that one did affected the other. Like Rebel, Dancer has naturally assumed that they would face each other on the battlefield while nameless equines were slaughtered around them, both filled with a burning desire to hurt, and to kill. But now, Dancer wondered whether that really was the path they were meant to follow. It seemed far more logical to work together, not against each other. As for Rebel's words? Dancer found herself replying to them without even thinking of what she was going to say.

"No, Rebel. Of course I don't think you would risk your life for me. You don't give a damn about me or the ones I love. But I do think you would risk your life to do the right thing. And what is the right thing, you may ask? To be loyal to your King, or to your instincts? If you choose wrong, both of us will die. This I know. But I can't make the choice for you Rebel - It's your descision. I just hope it will be the right one, for both our sakes."

It was true, Dancer had seen it. She didn't know which descision culminated in their destruction, as her prophetic gifts could not stretch that far, but it was certain that one of them did. It was a fifty-fifty choice for Rebel now, and an extremely difficult one to make. It was a risk letting the mare know of her new power, and Dancer half wished that now she hadn't showed her it at all, despite all the things that had come from it. She guessed that Legesain didn't know who had raised him from hell, which itself was a good thing. Rebel would be considered a threat, and she would be dealt with, swiftly and lethally. As Rebel moved away from her, Dancer sighed softly, her chest risin and falling gently in the evening light as she watched the receding form of the mare. Rebel had obviously chosen her path, and it was time to choose hers. Well, there wasn't even any question about that. She would fight alongside the Sacreds till the death. Or of couse, until they won, but one of the only hopes they had of victory was slowly walking away from her, and Dancer couldn't possibly think of another way of getting back at Legesain. They could gain the Neutral allegiance, but then what? There was no one else, no others who would support them. They were on their own, stranded on a desert islands as sharks slowly closing it, waiting to kill them all.

But wait. Rebel had turned round, and was walking back to her. Any feeling of relief or hope Dancer might have felt at this point were overwhelmed by feelings of confusion, and these feelings weren't disspated by her next words.

"Rebel, you know exactly why we need your help. You just want to hear me say it."

Dancer too spoke calmy, all too aware of the things that were at stake here. Rebel actually seemed to be considering what she had said, and might actually agree to help them if she said the right things. Unlike the mare believed, if she joined them, she wouldn't just be used as a pawn, she would be respected as much as the lords of the land. Dancer only hoped Hope's Rebellion could see that. [.x.]

The femmora whipped her tail roughly against her hide. Her gaze turned back to the rolling waves as she fought to hide her anger. She was a dark, but now the lines had became blurry. No longer were alliances clear. Darks were turning against each other; son against father. Their actions would echo in vastness of eternity. But what would it say? That few had fought and many were given a little longer on this earth or that all had fought and many had truely lived. Her gaze remained on the crystal waters. Long after this war was finished this beach would still remain. How she yearned to learn from nature and recieve it's strength. Rebel closed her eyes as she enjoyed this moment of silence. Even she knew silence would be hard to find in the upcoming days. Moonlight Dancer's words echoed in her mind but her brain failed to understand them. Instead the mare simply turned her gaze towards Dancer. Though she looked in the femme's direction she was in another time. It was springtime of last year. Her and Grey's first spring together. He had just discovered a rabbit and was intent on investigating. Rebel watched from a close distance, the sun warming her back soothingly.

As she spoke, her mind remained on this memory. "His name is Grey Hope. He was marked by the gods, he cannot see color. He is nearly a colt now." A motherly smile drifted upon her librims. "He was afraid of the april showers. I think it was mainly the thunder that came with it occassionally. He has atught me a lot. More than I ever thought I could learn from anything. But most importantly, he is the only thing that has been mine and has shown me unconditional love." Tears formed in her eyes, but the wench let none spill. Her eyes moved to focus on Dancer. "He will die by the end of this war. Of that I have little doubt. You have your family to stand behind you. I would have no one." Her expression hardened, her moment of weakness was hidden away once again. "Yes I want to hear it. Because unlike you I have everything to lose. You have nothing, because...well, everyone knows the lights will not survive this war alone." Her voice was cold, her words were meant to cut deep into Dancer. If Rebel helped the lights she would not be their friends, she would barely even be their ally. Rebel was a warrioress at heart, she had her sire to thank for that. But she was also a mother and her son was the only thing keeping her from rushing into battle. And for that she was grateful.

The world was changing. There was no doubt about that. The weather was turning fast; the air seemed to become cooler with every rise and fall of the now waning sun. The nights were becoming longer - the days, shorter. A certain darkness seemed to be falling over the lands, and, whether it was only her imagination or not, it seemed to the princess that this already unnaturally early winter beared a striking resemblance to how the fates seemed to be playing out. Dancer looked up to the sky momentarily, and, just visible underneath a smoky wisp of cloud, was a star. The first star, which signalled the coming of night. The sun had only been up for a few hours, yet now, bathing the beach in a blood-red glow, it was dying.

And yet, it would rise again. Slowly, the light would return to the lands. Like the night turning to day, warmth and life would return to the land of Dreams, bringing with it new hope. But how many equines would live beyond this winter to see that light return? Either taken by the winter, or by the battle which by now had become a certainty, some would perish. It would be the old and the young that would be to first to go; and some would say that it was a necessary sacrifice. As Rebel spoke of her son the princess turned her thoughts to her own, little Elessar. It was he for whom she fought. To secure a future for him without all the fear and hatred which she and her entire generation had faced. To lose him.... the mare could not even bear considering it. Yet that was exactly what Rebel was facing. No parent should have to outlive their child. It was just not the way things should happen.

"You want to know why we need your help, Rebel?" Dancer spoke softly into the cool twilight air, her eyes drifting out to the glittering ocean. "Because you are the only one who can save us now. Without your help, we are lost. Every mare, every foal. My little Eless-"The words were choked from her throat for a moment, before she collected herself and continued."You claim that your son will die before the end of this war. Yet there is still a chance he will live. If you choose the path that is right for you."

"You are confused. Undecided. I can see it in your eyes. You don't know who to help, or what to do. Those who stand for nothing will fall for anything, and right now you stand for no alliance.That, more than anything, is how you and your son will end up dead. That's a fact thats true for us all. I've chosen my path and who I'm going to stand by. If I have to die for that, then it's a sacrifice I am going to have to make. You need to choose your path also, Rebel. And I hope that you choose correctly, for both your and your son's sakes." What she had said was true. It was not intended to offend or anger. It was just the simple facts, hard as it was to accept. Rebel was going to have to make a choice, and Dancer would be right there waiting for it.

status; complete
words; 555
starring; Moonlight Dancer
ooc; again, I'm sorry for the wait

The femme listened to the mare. A week ago they would have been too busy tearing each other apart. They had been sworn enemies and now they are potiental allies. What was happpening to her world? Rebel just wanted everything to be back to normal. She wanted it to just be black and white again. At least then she knew who was her friend and who was her enemy. Part of her wanted to go back and be a foal again. To be selfish and uncaring of the world's problems. Rebel suddenly remembered another from her past, her mother. Now, she needed her more than ever. For the first time, the young banshee felt as if she was truely and absolutely alone. A small breeze picked up and gently wrapped around the mare. Her mane swayed slowly, dancing playfully in the wind. Her gaze watched the tide for a moment. She wished she could be a tide, be like a tide that left and never came back. To start again in fresh waters. Maybe once this war was finally over and if her and her bantle still stood, maybe it was time to move on. What was the land of Dreams to here? Two dead dams, heartache, and disappointment. Hope had fled in a different direction. Rebel shifted her weight a little. Her back was still hot from the afternoon's sun. It was hard for her to keep cool with her ebony pelt. But now, now it was nice. The trees surrounding the beach had leaves of gold and red. And when the wind caught the leaves just right they floated in midair, timelessly suspended, before falling into the crystal blue waters below. Every once in a while a bitting breeze would sneak up upon the equines of the land, reminding them that winter was still on it's way. The summer had been like a season in hell. A warning sign for the equines. The hotter the summer, the cooler the winter. Rebel knew that many would perish in the upcoming season and not just from the war.The warrioress followed Dancer's gaze heavenward. There in the distance was a lone star. A promise of sorts.

Yes the day finished and yes the light gave way to darkness. But that star promised that it wouldn't be there forever, the sun would appear once more. But more importantly, night was coming soon. Grey Hope was still hiding in a thicket in the nuetral lands. Rebel was still unsure about the nuetrals. She had decided it was probably a good time to move Grey Hope to a different terra with her. A place she could protect him better, away from other influences. Rebel's attention returned to Dancer, noticing she seemed distant and in thought. Rebel wasn't going to lie, Dancer was probably in for heartache. Even the warrioress wasn't naive enough to believe Legesain did not still hold a grudge against the light princess or her brother. Legesain's wrath was a force to be reckoned with. Pricked sonar caught the sun kisser's words and Rebel's cran turned to meet them. Dancer spoke but faced outward to the sea. The sea encouraged dreams, it encouraged hope and gave inspiration. Something many needed in this desperate time. After a few short moments Dancer's speech came to an end, leaving Rebel with her thoughts once more. There is a tide in the affairs of men. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat, and we must take the current when it serves, or lose our ventures. Was this a chance that if lost it would be regretted for all of her life? Opportunites were like the tide. They were brought to us but more often than they were taken they returned back to sea, leaving us with memories and regrets. "I'll help you, but I can't come with you now. I'll find you when the time is right." Rebel said, her gaze focused on a far off place. That was all she could promise Dancer. And if that wasn't enough then she wasn't enough for the lights. Rebel gave one last glance towards Moonlight Dancer before turning in the opposite direction. It was time to go home. Her pillars swiftly carried her draft frame out of the terrain.

status; Finished
words; 723
starring; Rebel
ooc; inspiration kinda came back

The princess faced out towards the sea, her eyes tracing over the white-capped waves as they rolled into the bay. She breathed in deep lungfuls of the salty air, taking just a second to appreciate fully the beauty of her surroundings. The beach was bathed in a scarlet glow, sand sparkling in the pale light, the sun hanging low on the horizon. Oh, how she wished that moment could last forever. The great battle, no, the final battle was approaching. If her brother and his army fell, then Dancer knew all too well what would become of them. Autumn would be killed - the manner of which depending on whether Legesain found himself in a particularly merciful mood. She would be the next to join him, along with Hacer, Elessar, and all those of royal descent. And what would become of the common lights? The first to go would be those not strong enough for work, of course – the old and the young. Those left would be enslaved to face whatever twisted plan the king had for them. Death seemed almost the better option.

The princess was frightened. Frightened of what was to come - afraid of losing all which she loved in the world. The future was unknown, and it was this, more than all else, that she feared. And Dancer hated herself for it. Warrioresses were not supposed to be afraid of the time of war, it was meant to be what they lived for. The mare felt like she should be relishing the increasing pulse of life, savouring the smell of a battle in the air. Why wasn't she? Like most things nowadays, the answer was hidden from her. Dancer could only hope that her fears could be settled before it came to the time of the battle.

Suddenly, Rebel spoke into the twilight silence. So she would help them. She felt like she should feel relieved, but, strangely, she did not. The other warrioress had made her choice now - yet would it make much difference? Violently, she shook the doubting thoughts from her head with a shake of her cran. Rebel was striding away from her quickly, and she was just standing here, without as much as a thank you. She cantered swiftly to catch up to the little mare, spraying sand everywhere as she pivoted to face the warrioress once more.

"Rebel. Thank you. Those are two completely insignificant little words, I know, but please. I mean it. Thank you."

Again, Dancer spoke simply. There was no need to dress up her words when they would just mean exactly the same. She was unsure of how the warrioress would react to her gratitude, yet at least, for now, the princess felt satisfied with her actions. As she looked over to Rebel, she felt a soft smile creep onto her lips. Perhaps they were not so different after all.

status; finished
words; 484
starring; Moonlight Dancer
ooc; thanks for making me feel bad that Eclipse abandoned Rebel =P