As always the mysterious mare had answers to all of his questions. Her lengthy reply to his words did not surprise him overly much. He was used to it, and listened carefully so that he wouldn't miss a word, not a syllable of that warm voice that sang with its exotic accent. Something the stallion wasn't quite as used to however was the scolding undertone, the slightly disappointed edge that made his tail swish in protest and caused a snort to blow sharply from the inked nostrils. Was she lecturing him? For real?
"I do hope you aren't expecting everyone to love the power and responsibility that comes with the possession of magic, Mirage" he pointed out and attempted a half-teasing, half serious nip towards a black ear. "I can understand your opinion that it might make the horses of Helovia more equal, but to go from there to wanting everyone to be as generous and loving towards the gods as you are... At best it would be naive, and at worst idiotic, and I know for a fact that you are neither." Masked lips proceeded to run down the crest of her neck, greedily tracing every soft strand of mane he could reach, as though trying to imprint their very course into his memory. "I don't particularly mind being considered as conservative. I am, and I readily confess that I'm not as brave when it comes to change as you are. For the greatest part of my life I have been dependent upon the strength of my own body and the experience I have gained throughout the years... That can't be taken away, not like this magic. If the gods gave it, then the gods can take it away, and I don't see a reason why I should allow myself to become a pawn in their divine games when none of them has earned my trust or asked for my approval."
For a moment the glazier turned silent as the memories of his encounters with the divine creators of this land. None had been overly pleasant, and while he might feel respect and awe before their power and beauty, that was all they received from him. But even as Lace mulled over the 'blessing' of the Sun that still covered his back, his thoughts were automatically returned towards the subject that worried him the most and that now was made all the more urgent as the information granted by the WeyrLeader settled into place.
"What do we do if the Basin turn their horns against us, my friend?" he asked quietly, as if afraid that the answer would confirm his deepest fears. "If they lay their hooves upon the Qian, use their magic on our brothers and sisters, on our children... Will we still sing songs of peace and equality then? Or will we turn our magic against them, and wade deeper into this bog of war and bloodshed that we have already placed ourselves in? I know what I will do if anyone lays a hand on you, on Smoke, on any of the foals... Do you? Are you prepared for the consequences of a magical war, Mirage? Because it is what we are galloping towards, for every soul we steal, every friend we loose..."
Then he turned abruptly silent, too daunted by the prospect of what such a war might bring in blood, pain and hatred to continue. Lace didn't want to fight anymore. He had hoped that the battle of the Edge would be his last war, that the life he now held would be put to better use. But how could he just stand by and watch if his friends was hurt and his home stolen? He couldn't, and he wouldn't. It was a fact, and one that weighed heavily on his shoulders as he turned the gaze out towards the sea.
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