| Number | Seventy-Eight (78)
| Name |Soltur
(From the Spanish word for "freedom")| Gender |Male
| Reason You Want It |I felt a connection as soon as I saw him, when azalea put him up for adoption. It was like I was looking at Lucius once more, only even more perfect for my story. Soltur stole my heart, and planted himself in the gaping hole in my plot, acting as if he was meant to be there all along. And he was. I feel he belongs here, and he will be a beloved character, no question about it. Though I am too CS poor to buy art, I will do my best to shower him in it, like I do all my characters, even if they never make it onto the web. I want him simply because I fell for him. Simple as that.
| Personality |I am calm, accepting, and kind. Or at least I have been told I am as such. Freedom is what matters to me; freedom to run across the grasslands, the forests, the mountains. Freedom is the right of all, not some. My father used to tell me that, before the rebel attack...before my world collapsed, and I became a prisoner. A training dummy for a group that wished for chaos; hope was the only light. The hope that I would be able to once again be free. And that hope, that wish, came true. I am free now. And I take great pride in what I do in helping the creatures I share this world with. I grant them the wish of freedom; I give them light when they feel all is lost. I would not trade this experience for the world.
| Song |Weep for yourself, my man,
you'll never be what is in your heart
weep little lion man,
you're not as brave as you were at the start
rate yourself and rake yourself,
take all the courage you have left
wasted on fixing all the problems
that you made in your own headLittle Lion Man - Mumford and Sons
It's just another war
Just another family torn
My voice will be heard today
It's just another kill
The countdown begins to destroy ourselves
I need a hero to save me now
I need a hero, save me now
I need a hero to save my life
A hero will save me just in timeHero - Skillet
| Story |I was born forsaken. Unwanted from the moment I took my first breath. I was the illegitimate child of General and his servant mistress; she hated me for ruining her relationship, he hated me for being. That was an abundant time in our world. The grasslands were lush and full; food was easy to find. The zionds and my kind, the jackals, were allies again after an intense battle over territory. The plains were celebrating over the ziond Lord’s good fortune: a son, an heir, born to him late in life. No one was celebrating my birth. In fact, I was being shoved into an abandoned den, left to die with my brother and sister.
They would not survive, but, by some twisted decision by Tiresia herself, I lived. The runt of the litter, the weakling. I was taken in by an indentured servant of the jackal Lord. She was an old jackal, but kind, and very close to the noble family. She had been scavenging for food when she heard by shrill cries. The Lord and Lady, when they discovered their servant’s find, took me in, as they had not been blessed by the gods with an heir. I grew up believing I was the son of the Lord and Lady. They were wise and gentle with me from the moment I was placed before them. Before long, I was bearing a name to go with my new home. Soltur.
I grew up in their den, a very happy, healthy pup. My father would teach me about the land, fighting, and leading wisely; my mother would tell me stories of the Gods and Goddesses, filling my young mind with big dreams. My father would occasionally take me with him on visits to other Lords, and my mother would occasionally take me scavenging with her. I never really saw any other jackals, as we are a solitary kind, so, besides my mother and father, and the servant that found me, I had no other friends. However, it was on a trip to the zionds that I met my one and only friend. My best friend. Ja’mai.
I had followed my father, looking in wonder at the part of the grasslands I had never seen before. You could see the Auru Mountains from this place, as we were nearing the southern border of the grasslands. I remember hearing my father greet another, but was unconcerned, thinking it was just another jackal. So, when I backed into the leg of a large beast, I couldn’t help but let out a yelping cry that jackals are known for. Alarmed, I hid behind my father’s leg, peeking out at the strange looking beast. His great striped head lowered to my level, giving me a kind smile.
“And this,” his deep, rumbling voice sounded, “must be young Soltur. It’s nice to finally meet you, little one.”
I remember looking up at him, shy and still a bit scared. I would learn that there was nothing to fear from Ma’dual. He was a kind, wise ruler, much like my own father. After they had settled the territory dispute, the two Lords had become quite good friends. And his son, from what I have heard from travellers, is much the same way.
While the two Lords spoke, my attention wanders, much like a young pup’s attention would. It was during my wandering that I discovered a set of eyes watching me from behind his own father’s broad leg. Quietly, I cocked my head at him, and he repeated the action, causing me to giggle. Oblivious to the amused Lords, we continued our game of repetitive movements, slowly creeping from our hiding places, until we were almost nose to nose. I grinned at him; he grinned back. A lifelong bond was born.
Together, we grew. When I wasn’t training with my father to be Lord, I was with him, talking about our favorite games, or what we were going to do when we were Lords of our lands. The world was great to us, but we didn’t know of the building threat all around us. Rebels were rising from all sides, unhappy with being ruled at all. They wanted anarchy, a word that had no meaning to a young adult like myself. But it would gain meaning, very quickly.
That morning dawned under overcast skies, fitting for the way the day would end. I was following my father along the border of our lands, making sure all was calm.To my untrained eyes, it was calm, but I could sense my father’s tension. He was on edge, and I wasn’t sure why, until a roar of a battle cry ripped through the air.
“Run, Soltur!” my father screamed, pushing me out of the way of the attacking tiger rebel. I bolted, hearing my father’s yapping battle cry, calling his warriors to him. But the cry was silenced all too soon. A jackal stood no chance against a tiger. I knew he was gone.
But still I ran. Scared and alone, I ran towards familiar grounds: the land of the zionds. But my heart leaped to my throat as I saw what was before me: blood staining the golden grasses, dead beasts lying where they were slain, their eyes wide and glassy in death. The zionds were fighting for their lives, and, beside them, were the jackal warriors my father called for. It was jackal against wolf, ziond against tiger, and both against leopard and cheetah. I didn’t know what to do, as grief gipped my chest. My father was gone, and my lands were being taken by creatures that I had never seen before.
But, out of the dust, came hope. Ma’dual, as old as he was, was fighting like the warlord he once was known as. His claws ripped into attacking flesh as he reared to his full height. For a moment I pitied the naïve rebels that dared to take on such a powerful beast. But only for a moment.
I ran towards the ziond Lord, going to him for salvation. As he put down another cheetah, he spotted my terrified form racing towards him.
“Soltur! Thank Tiresia!” he bellowed rearing once more. However, the cry had cost him precious moments, and, from behind him, a large tigress leapt from the tall grasses, digging her claws into the soft flesh of the Lord’s powerful neck. With a furious whinny, he bucked, and rolled, fighting to get the tigress off his back. She held on, however, only letting go when he rolled, body slamming her into the ground, crushing her body. I, having stopped in horror of the unexpected attack, ran to the fallen Lord’s body. Panting, I looked down upon the dying Lord; claw and bite marks littered his once powerful body. His tired eye looked up at me as I lowered my head, nosing his cheek.
“Sol-tur…promise…me…,” he gasped out, his chest heaving, “Tell…my son…I…love him…”
“I promise, Lord Ma’dual. I promise you, he’ll know,” I said softly, ignoring the sounds of battle around me, the grief strong in my chest. I had lost my father, and was losing the next closest thing as well.
“Soltur…may the deities…protect you…al…ways…”
I watched, grief stricken, as the light faded from his eyes, and his spirit joined all others in the Exalted Land beyond the stars. I shook with sadness and anger; how could the deities take everyone from me? My father, my mentor, I had nothing left…except...
I lifted my head, looking around frantically for my brother in spirit. Ja’mai was nowhere to be seen, and I thought the worst. Letting out a battle cry, eeriliy similar to the one my father had uttered only moments before, I charged at the nearest enemy, a wolf. He was not expecting the attack from a young jackal, but he learned quickly. I was easily outmatched in the fight, but, with anger and grief burning my blood, I tore at the skin, snarling and yapping. It didn’t take long for the wolf to pin me to the hard ground, as the rain began to pour, turning the ground red from the blood being washed to the river.
“Lookie what we have here…a little jackal pup, and a fool as well,” the wolf chuckled as I stared up at him, fearful, “Hmmm…you could be useful, fool.”
With a bite to my neck, he hauled me to my feet, and shoved me away from the battle, leading me into unknown territory: the forest that bordered the grasslands and the ziond land. There was no hope for escape; the wolf could kill me in one swift move. I never saw my mother or Ja’mai again.
For suns I was lead through the woods, deprived of food and water, along with the other prisoners of the battle, which the wolf’s comrades had captured. They had met up with us the night of the battle, and, as horrible as it was, I wished Ja’mai had been one of the captives, so I’d at least know if he was alive, or dead as I feared. But he wasn’t with the returning rebels. So, I journeyed on alone, besides my captors and their prisoners. I felt numb. I was forsaken once more, this time by the deities themselves. I prayed every night to Tiresia, asking for help, for hope, and for strength. I never received a reply.
Slowly, the captives started to die off from lack of food, water, and from the wounds they sustained from the fight, until all they had left was me, and even then, I wasn’t in very good condition. I managed to make it all the way to the camp they had for their prisoners of war. It was there that the hell that was my life managed to get worse.
I was used as a dummy for the training soldiers of this insurgency; I was beaten and starved, but I still held on. For three seasons, I miraculously held on. My spirit never wavered, despite every bite, every claw, I kept hope. Hope I would be rescued; hope that mys story would not end in this way. And my story didn't. I lived through this imprisonment for a reason; a reason I did not understand, until a chance of a lifetime came my way. I escaped.
It was during a battle, right at the camp. Apparently, the rebels had angered one of the Lords nearby, I believe the leopard Lord, and he swore revenge. So, he and his army attacked the camp with the fury of a grass fire. I took my chance, and ran, never being stopped by my fighting captors. I ended up in the forest; the very same one I was dragged through so many suns ago. This time, however, I was in much worse shape. I vaguely remember collapsing onto the cool floor, filtered sunlight hitting my nose. I knew there was still a chance I was going to die; I couldn't hunt, I could barely walk.
My salvation came in the form of a tiger.
When I awoke, after collapsing, my senses were shot. I was exhausted, and hungry. It was only a few moments later that a fresh kill was set before my nose, and, not caring if it was friend or foe feeding me, I ate. And I continued to do so until my belly rebelled against me. It seemed as if the food has reawakened my senses, as I could now hear a soft humming, and smell a comforting scent. Silently, I lifted my head to look at the lounging white and gold tiger. He observed me with his milky blue eyes, still humming softly. It took me a moment before I was able to form words.
“W-who are you…?”
The tiger chuckled softly; smiling gently, like a father would to his pup. I felt a pang of sadness at the thought of never seeing my own father give me a smile like that again. I pushed that thought aside as the tiger began to speak in an aged voice.
“Well, Soltur, I am known by many names, by many a beast. However, I believe the most common name they give me is Klineer.”
Silently, I wracked my memories, trying to recall the name that sounded so famillar. Finally, it hit me like a log.
“T-the God of Wisdom?” I stuttered, my eyes wide. If I wasn’t alert before, I was now. Was I really in the presence of a god?
“And of Justice, child. Don’t forget that, as justice is just as important as wisdom,” he smiled at me kindly. I weakly sat up, wincing, sore, watching as he did the same, looking up at the shining stars that were visible from a gap in the leaves of the huge trees. I looked up as well, curious as to my surroundings, my attention once again drawn to the tiger as he spoke.
“No matter what you may think, Soltur, Tiresia never turned her back on you. She was testing you. And, may I say, you passed easily. You never lost hope, even in the darkest of times. She has a very special request of you.”
“What does the goddess wish me to do?” I had heard of beasts receiving messages from the gods and goddesses, but I never expected it to happen to me. Maybe I was too desperate to find someone to trust, but I truly knew I was talking to a god.
“First off, she would like you to accept the position as Lord of the Jackals, however…” he trailed off, looking at me with blank eyes. I wonders vaguely how he knew where I was, but I shrugged it off.
“However, what, sir?”
“You are the last living jackal.”
I stared at him, in shock. My body had gone numb, much like it had done when I watched Ma’dual die before me. Me? The last of my kind? It can’t be.
“I know you won’t want to believe me, child, but it’s the truth. The jackals that survived the battle, were executed by the rebels. No one survived, no one escaped. I’m sorry, Soltur,” he said softly, nosing my muzzle. I didn’t know what to think. I was alone in this world. And I always would be. A lone jackal roaming the land, no home and no family. I looked up at the god, lost and confused.
“What am I to do, sir? I…I have nowhere to go…I can’t be Lord of nothing.”
“Well,” the old tiger rumbled, “that brings us to part two of Tiresia’s request, and as long as there’s one, a leader is needed,” Klineer stood, radiating power, despite the feeble body he presented before me. I stood weakly, looking up at him, my eyes curious.
“Soltur, Lord of the Jackals, Child of the Maritae Grasslands, Tiresia, Goddess of Destiny, Decider of Fate, requests your assistance in the Exalted Lands. You have shown great courage and hope in the face of imprisonment, and embody the spirit of freedom. Therefore, will you, Lord Soltur, accept the power of God of Prisoners and of Freedom? You shall roam the lands free, never to be captured again, but you will bring hope to those who have none in the face of slavery and imprisonment. You shall bring freedom to those who deserve to run free as the winds. Do you accept, Soltur?”
I stared up at him in awe. I could be a God? I could help others who felt forgotten by the deities, and free them from the darkest feelings of imprisonment? It only took a few moments for me to decide. I wanted to help others. I wanted to make sure no one would feel the same way I did while imprisoned. Forgotten. Hopeless. I could change that.
“I accept, Klineer, God of Wisdom and Justice. I accept both Lord of the Jackals, and the responsibility of God of Prisoners and Freedom. I will ensure no one will lose hope in the face of being trapped.”
Klineer smiled proudly, once again reminding me of my own father. I felt strong, like suns ago I wasn’t close to death. I felt the best I ever felt in my short life.
“Then let it be so. In the name of the Goddess Tiresia, I name you Soltur, The Last Prisoner, and Hope Bringer to the Trapped," his voice boomed across the clearing, as I felt a strange sensation in my paws; small wings had sprouted from them, fluttering at my thoughts of flight, "With these wings, I grant you the ultimate freedom: the freedom of flight. Let freedom reign thoughout the land forever more.”
I’ll always remember that day, for as long as the world exists. And as long as there are beasts asking for freedom, I shall be.
I was born forsaken. I shall never be so again. I am Soltur, The Last Prisoner.
| Characters Mentioned |Tiresia - Goddess of DestinyJa'mai - Future Lord of the Zionds, and Soltur's best friendMa'dual
- Ja'mai's father, and, in this story, current Lord of the ZiondsKlineer
- God of Wisdom and Justice| Permission |
| Other |Note: I am reusing the form I used for Lucius, though edited slightly, as it was never officially judged by The Agency, and because the history was exactly as I wished it to be for this spot in my story. If there is a problem with this, please, let me know, as I saw no rule against it in the adopter's rules.
I understand that by adopting this creature I take full responsibility for it. 
