[Alantica]

base: Round Fin
wings: Flying Fish
extras: Small Halo, Flower Growth

MYO design for Kenjaku
They'll post lore in a bit <3

[Kenjaku]

Amitola remembers life before knowing Ori. In fact, it was what she’d known her entire life before things truly changed. She remembers how she perceived the world: in touch, in smell, in electrolocation, in sound. She never had sight; that was something she’d been born without. She could see just fine, even if it looked a little different than a normal fable. The sense of sight, as she knows it now, was completely foreign until she was brought up before him. Sometimes she resents him for it. Knowing life one way and then having it radically changed on a whim was hard to swallow. She’d come to him for healing, for immunity from the disease that had taken everyone she’d once loved and known. The mare who brought her before him told Amitola that it might even be too late to save her, too. How horrifying of a thought, that she would die for the same awful gill rot, the same hoarse voice, the same loss of mental clarity.

She remembers her dear, long-suffering mother. How she looked after Amitola from her childhood to her adulthood. How she always made sure Amitola was fed, taken care of, and fulfilled mentally. She remembers the disease taking her slowly, quietly; not violent but gut-wrenchingly painful to witness. It started out slow: her mother, Velicity, came down with the urge to persistently gill-rake. (Comparable to a cough in a land-living fable.) It was gentle at first, described as a nagging tickling in her gills that needed to be cleared. The continued action tore at her gills, though. Amitola heard the elders describe her gills: pale, torn, sickly white spotted.

Her voice went next. Amitola can barely remember her voice now; the voice she had her entire life before she came down with the Sick. All she can recall now is the hoarse whisper that her mother made. How with every word, fables would have to angle their ears in close. Amitola never had trouble hearing her, but she’d been using her sense of hearing more acutely than the normal fable since birth. She remembers her voice wasting away, quieter and quieter until she could barely talk at all. Complaining always of a sore throat.

She remembers the worst symptom of it all: Velicity’s loss of self and those around her. It started out slowly: forgetting what she was doing in the middle of doing it, forgetting daily tasks until someone brought them up. Then it advanced: forgetting, now, people she’d known her entire life. Some elders became faceless strangers to her, familiar but no memory beyond that sticking to them. This phase took months, and the elders described her as wasting away. They would go on and on about how her beautiful jet black scales had been taken over by white spotting, the same as on her gills.

Velicity remembered Amitola for a long time; longer than she’d remembered anyone else. Her daughter that stuck by her side so faithfully, caring for her in any way she could. One day, though, she did forget her. She said that she smelled familiar, her beautifully milky eyes were familiar, but she had no clue who she was. Something inside of Amitola broke. Blissfully, this was the last stage of the illness. Velicity would not have to wander aimlessly, confused about those around her and her surroundings, for very long. Just a week after forgetting Amitola, she gave her last breath.

The Sick spread to the entire town. She had been the first to get it, but everyone knew what was happening when white spots started showing up on gills. Amitola had stayed with her mother until the very end, which begged the question: why wasn’t she sick? Even as the fables she’d known her entire life came and went, she never, ever came down with the Sick. She protected the lands she’d been born to as fiercely as she could but softened as a visiting merfable pried into her situation. The stranger told her they’d seen this before, this illness that swept over entire townships. They said there was a cure, but only if you’d never been infected. They offered to bring Amitola to this healer.Saying no would’ve been stupid. She could not imagine, in her wildest dreams, living all that she had and dying alone, confused, afraid, and painful. She joined the merfable on the journey to visit Ori.

His gift of healing was overwhelming. It was like the warmth of the sun on a calm day, flowing from his horn and washing her body clean. She felt every inch of her body reborn in a way she couldn’t explain. The scariest, though, was the fact that her eyes now worked. Going from zero visual stimulus to full vision in the blink of an eye was terrifying. She couldn’t even parse what was happening at first; just that she was afraid. It felt like her brain was oozing out of her ears; everything was too much. She cursed Ori, cursed the merfable that had brought her to him, and fled.

Amitola still stays in the darkest depths. She’s immune now, but at what cost? The darkness soothes her eyes, and she’s growing more confident in what she does see. Many who meet Ori remark that they are changed fable, but Amitola is bitter about it all. She lives in constant overstimulation outside of the darkness. She will never sing praises about Ori, and sometimes thinks she would’ve been better dying of the Sick.

[leopia]

i can't look away from the shine on those fins omg 😲 stunning alantica!!

[bezel]

#M-90!

[Alantica]

i can't look away from the shine on those fins omg 😲 stunning alantica!!

Thank you Leopia <3333!!

#M-90!

Ty bezel for all ur hardwork getting all the fables numbered <3!