It was a curious thing, the tingling that trembled along the mists this moment. It spoke of the past, of a King who ruled here not too many years ago, of a spotted lord whom I distinctly recall standing before the pillar of flames that was the Sun God tarnishing my land. I had to wonder at the fires that were now currently lit in myhome - they were kept controlled, and even I had to admit that they provided a comfort to the young and tired members of the herd. Though the area I inhabit is too heavily shrouded by mist to support a flame, I would not deny their usefulness. The memory is strange one, and I wonder why it was sent to me, why now, would I think of the former King, the FrostHeart, the one who wanted only unicorns to inhabit this realm? He held his grounds successfully for an entire turn of the seasons, a feat not to be mocked nor discredited.

I held no sway over who was to be called my King or Queen. The lady Mirage had earned my respect enough, at least in the sense that she seemed to heed my warnings, and she had defended her home successfully, and filled it with keen followers who seemed to genuinely feel loyalty and love for her. It was hard not to enjoy the presence of the herd, peaceful yet powerful that they were. Why should the mists present me with the image of a fallen King, his shape and hue were undeniable, even the icy sheen of his horn seemed to shimmer as my violet orbs beheld the vision.

With motions that were suggestive of the mists that surrounded me, I pulled myself from my abode, and began my search for the reason of this vision. It did not take me long to traverse the realm I was born into, to meet the wall that had been built, to pass through the gate and - there. Quietly, I draw myself up, towards our Glazier and the former King, offering a small nod of my long, pointed horn. My slender ears had heard the tail end of the conversation, and I was well aware of the death of Torasin - though not the exact cause of it. Was there something our leader was not telling us?

"Why would they think that, Mauja?" I ask, directing my deep gaze towards his own icy one, taking in the nervous demeanour he presents. Why should he be nervous if he was innocent of any crime?