#soras

Sora Porzana carolina

8/19/2024 Benton County, Washington

Thank you @wellheckthatsakward​ for the commission of your lovely characters Soras and Ophelia! I hope I did your plot some justice 👀

“Ophelia!” Soras screamed, throat raw and the unmistakable taste of blood now pushed onto her tongue but that mattered not as she watched Ophelia’s blood pour onto the street, pained gasps erupting from her throat as members of the wizard council held her still so she could continuously be impaled by rusted knives.

“Please!” Soras didn’t know who she was begging, as liquid droplets pooled from her eyes and poured down her cheeks. Before now she had never felt pain, never felt this distinct ripping at her chest as her beloved lay dying before her. But she did now, as she lay begging, her own wounds from being contained by the wizard council long forgotten as she screamed for her lover, screamed for her protection and safety. 

“Soras,” Ophelia cried out in pain as another knife was stabbed into her back, tears pouring down her face as the smell of burnt flesh and blood obscured her nostrils. How desperately she wished she was inhaling the smell of lavender and poppies swirling across Soras’ skin as they curled up in a thick blanket beneath the stars. How much they took those peaceful moments for granted, Ophelia lamented as another scream was forced from her throat as they took out the knife to add another in, in a different location on the spanse of her back. 

‘Monstrous’ they called Soras, ‘A threat to us all,’ they told the public to support their endeavor of containing her magic and sealing her to stop her true potential from being implemented on this world. 

“Please,” Her vision blinded with tears as she laid her head on the grass, tone no more than a pleading whisper as she heard Ophelia’s limp and lifeless body thumping to the ground in the distant background.

Before Moira could lift the hot branding tool back to Soras’ marred back, a blinding burst of light encased the town square, a burst of magic swirling from Soras and into the ground, trickling through the cracks of the cobblestone and into Ophelia’s wounds, golden light flowing like water up her limbs and into the flesh. 

“Stop her!” A councilman yelled out, springing Moira into action as he jutted the device into Soras’ back, a deafening scream filling the town square as Soras blacked out from the pain, one final murmur of the word please slipping from her lips as she toppled over.

All Ophelia could feel in this moment was warmth, seeing bursts of light behind her eyelids as a cascading flow of heat came across her skin. 

“Wake up,” Voices called, one or two, or even three, she couldn’t tell. Suddenly she was on an obelisk. Surrounded by streaming lines of starlight and exploding planets, Ophelia stood, feet wobbly as she nearly held onto the ground for support of her shaking limbs. 

Looking over the edge of the obelisk, Ophelia gasped to see it delve into what appeared to be a swirling black mass of nothing, bright stars swirling it.  “What..?” Her tone came out calm but in reality she was losing her mind as she looked around. 

“You’ve awakened,” The voices called again, causing Ophelia to look around.

“Where are you?” She called out to them, panic in her voice as the voices chuckled. “We, Ophelia Newtin, are everywhere and yet nowhere at the same time.” The voices hummed, seemingly amused by her question. 

“Where am I?” 

“A curious one.. Aren’t you? You are at your fate. Are you prepared to meet it?”

It felt like a hundred years since that day, the worlds around Ophelia constantly changing as she watched from above in a castle of starlight and asteroids. Waterfalls of moondust travelled down from the castle, feeding into the Milky Way. 

Eyeing it as Ophelia walked out of the castle and into her working gazebo, she sighed as her eyes fell back upon her homeland, Earth. 

Raising her hand above the cosmic plate in the center of the gazebo, golden light poured from her fingertips, her hand moving upward as the light began to swirl around her arm, her black skin now glittering with pieces of sunlight, her dark eyes glowing a bright golden as the sun began to shift position. As her duty as a sun goddess, she was to rise and set the sun on each day as well as provide warmth to the planets she was in charge of. 

“Ophelia!” The voices called out, nearly shrieking, causing Ophelia to almost drop her hold on the sun as she guided it into position. “One moment,” She huffed out, knowing they heard her regardless of her volume as she fixed the sun, setting the time for it to move across the sky. The sun could move on it’s own, but it could not lift itself or plunge itself below the viewing plane of humans without her guidance. 

“What is it?” She called, her body returning to it’s normal shades, the glow from her eyes dimming as she left her cosmic plate. 

“We have a mission for you.” Their tones somber as Ophelia felt a lurch in her gut. It wasn’t often they were like this, and usually when they were, it wasn’t anything good. 

Earth felt different from what Ophelia remembered, the air no longer feeling crisp and fresh but instead bogged with pollution as man made devices corrupted the circulating air. 

Walking up the stone path, Ophelia felt guilt tug at her chest, this whole time she believed Soras was dead but in reality, here she was, locked away. The castle was old, encased in vines and moss, the gate rusted and broken, nearly falling off the hinges as Ophelia pushed it open. 

“Soras?” Ophelia called out, searching the overgrown garden for a glimpse of her lover, frowning when she received no reply. 

“Soras,” She called again as she walked up the broken stone steps to the large wooden doors. 

As she carefully opened the door, she winced as it creaked obnoxiously. “It’s me… Ophelia?” She tried again, walking slowly inward as the door shut behind her through Soras’ magic. 

The air began to fill with a distinct purple mist, Soras’ corruption filling the castle. “Soras,” Ophelia called out once more, following the mist towards it’s center, the ballroom. 

“Oh Soras…” Her heart tugged painfully as she recalled their last few happy moments together. Their laughs as they swirled together in the ballroom, chest to chest as they danced to music of their own creation. 

“Soras, are you in there?” Ophelia called carefully, slowly opening the door. 

“Who…Dares… Enter my home?” Soras called, voice growly and labored as Ophelia entered in the ballroom. The tapestries were ripped from the walls, wallpaper destroyed as well and sat in haphazard piles on the ground as the dance floor remained perfectly untouched. 

Soras couldn’t destroy it, she couldn’t destroy the last thing she had of Ophelia. Not while she was still in control, at least. 

“It’s me, my poppy flower,” Ophelia called out, the old term of endearment so quick to slip off her tongue as she took in her beloved’s state. 

“What have they done to you?!” Her voice was laced in horror and mortification as she watched Soras stand. Her body was practically encased in purple mist, evidence of magical corruption showing through her skin as it poured from her being. 

“Get away from me!” Soras yelled out, fear encasing her entire being as she backed away. 

Ophelia recoiled as if she’d been slapped, “Soras–” She tried to reach out, only for a loose piece of tapestry to be flung her way.

“What’s wrong?!” She questioned, hurt by Soras’ response.

“I won’t let you lay another finger on me!” Soras yelled, anger mixed with her fear as Ophelia continued to try and approach her. 

As they moved across the ballroom, minutes felt like hours as Ophelia kept trying to approach Soras, and finally, Ophelia had her cornered. 

“Don’t touch me!” 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Ophelia felt golden tears begin to build in her eyes, as she knelt down, taking off her cloak to show she had no weapons, her golden sun in the middle of her chest gleaming in the dimly lit room.

The shimmer of light caught Soras’ attention, demanding her attention as if it were a blade only for her fearful whimpers and huffs to dwindle. Her eyes squinted as she took in the familiar symbol, her mind searching through the corruption to piece together where she had seen it before. 

And finally-

It clicked.

“O….Ophelia?” 

“It’s me, Soras, I won’t hurt you, I promise,” Ophelia vowed, tears streaming down her face as Soras seemed to have a moment of clarity, no longer fully controlled by the madness of her magic. 

“Ophelia, how can this be?” She questioned, tears streaming down her own face as she moved forward to try and touch the lover she heard die before her so many years ago. 

“I don’t know how it happened,” Ophelia couldn’t think of the words to explain the transformation she had gone through since she had left Earth, but that mattered not as Soras pulled her into an embrace, a choked sob leaving her lips as she gripped onto Soras in a tight hold. 

As they embraced, the sun of Ophelia’s chest brushed against the mist, a golden hue bursting from the contact before spreading, the mist dwindling down in size. 

And so the two wept as they held each other, questions and horrors for what the future held for the two lay at bay as they reveled in each other’s warmth. 

“The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.” —Charles Dickens

Another Gamebird Feathursday

Last week we discussed Wisconsin’s fall hunting season and the deeply ingrained tradition of the hunt in our state. Some might feel a bit squeamish or perhaps even repulsed by the idea of hunting our dear feathered neighbors. Here at UWM Special Collections, we love and respect our avian residents and visitors, but we also recognize and respect that hunting is a distinctive part of the Wisconsin character, even if we may not engage in it ourselves. So, in keeping with our fall hunting theme, we present a few four-color reproductions of gamebird paintings by the noted American wildlife artist Lynn Bogue Hunt from conservationist, avid bird-hunter, and former editor of Field & Stream magazine Ray P. Holland’s 1945 publication Shotgunning in the Lowlands, published in New York by A. S. Barnes and Company. Our copy is a 1946 second printing, produced in an edition of 2500 copies.

Ray Holland was a friend of Milwaukee-area celebrity, General Billy Mitchell, who is regarded as the father of the United States Air Force. We were taken by Holland’s remarks about Mitchell and his highly-controversial advocacy for American investment in air power, which opens the chapter on Sora hunting:

General Billy Mitchell told me that the sora rail was his favorite game bird. As far as I’m concerned, that alone put the sora in the upper brackets. General Mitchell has been more than vindicated in every statement he ever made. He was right about battleships, airplanes and many other things. Because the brass hats wouldn’t listen to him, this country has paid with the lives of men and millions of dollars. When he says the sora rail is a grand game bird, that is exactly what it is. No one knows much more about rail-birds and rail-bird shooting than did the former head of our air forces.

TABRIS | HERO OF FERELDEN (DRAGON AGE ORIGINS: LIVE ACTION)