The Singer

By Spell Shock

• March 21, 2013




Age: Unknown, around 550

Gender: Female

Species: Pegasus

Appearance: Adult mare, with deep blue-cyan eyes, coat having color of coffee with milk. With dark orange and purple, very long tale and mane. Her cutie mark is a Dove with olive branch.

Cutie Mark: A dove with an olive branch, symbolizing the porpoise she once carried. In old days, she could make peace with anyone, always spinning the words in a way, which could stop the most horrible of accidents. Sadly, she lost this talent in her live, her cutie mark turning into outline of itself.

Personality: The Singer is a death seeker of sorts; she is used to sing through her life, after having something really terrible happen in her life. However, she is a believer in glory; no death could do to her, if it wasn’t sung in legends, even more epic when she sings, while cutting through her enemies. <br />She is smart, talented and complex person, who once cared about ponies around her, until her age clouded her judgment and curse, spanned its lies around her consciousness. <br />

Backstory: Quies Incantor, was born in a city of Lateo, Gerundum Borealis, memories of which have lost its way even from her mind. It was a city of glory, of love, of many wonderful things to memorize in songs and ballads. She was names Quies, because she was very quiet, peaceful. Even at birth she didn’t cried, one look at her managed to ease the sufferings of her mother, who just had a very difficult procedure. <br />From early age, she was known to be the person who always could end a conflict or pass rightful judgment. She was fair and loving, to her friends and siblings. She would make a perfect mother, perfect friend and a decent politician. <br />And in time, she did. She became a mother to a wonderful daughter, helped to solve trickiest of cases, make everyone happy with the end result in a heavy debate. <br /><br />She even had an occasional gift or two, like an ear peace, a quite peculiar peace of jewelry, said to "Tune the ear of a pony to music*.<br /><br />But in time, it all started falling apart. Not because she didn’t planned ahead, or anything else. But because she couldn’t bear her life. She was her daughter, grew older and older each year. She didn’t aged. Year after year, she looked as good as she did before. She saw her own daughter, her darling giving birth, being happy, getting older and eventually passing on. <br />She saw generations of her family, age and die, everything she loved moving on, turning to dust or just ending up being forgotten.<br />Soon, she could not bear this in mind, she would have taken her own life, but that would be against everything she ever stood for. It would give a bad example to the rest of her kin, who only knew her as granny many times over.<br />So she took the other path. Not an easy one, but the path she liked at the time. SHE was going to sing songs and legends, eternally setting in paper memories of her bellowed ones, while she would search for a death, fit for one of those legends herself.<br />Year after year, little forces could match with her voice; no one could match her in singing, her style. None managed to harm her, while she – gone more insane with each year.