She watched him, her tender mind wondering why she needed to know this. But even as she looked for an answer in the recess of her mind, she knew she would not find one. Nothing in her life had ever prepared her for this situation, nothing in her life had ever prepared her to grow up. Cared for by a heartless queen and her hell-bound king, overshadowed by a throne-destined brother, the painted girl had been left to her own devices. And a child left on their own rarely chooses to grow old when they can stay young. So instead of finding an answer, Kahlua only wondered, for a brief second before he started speaking, what the Frostheart had been like when he was young, and what had made his soul so old.

King of the Edge. She eyed him cautiously. She had never thought of the Edge as anything other than Mirage’s- the Qian’s. Was there more to the history of this ancient forest than a peace-loving herd that wanted nothing more than to live a quiet life? King Mauja. She tossed the words around in her head and shifted, but her ears pointed towards him, eager to know what all had transpired to make this meeting unfold as it had. And though Mauja took the winds as remembrance, Kahlua took them as strength. The forest was with her. She was not alone.

Just a couple days after, the Sun burned the forest down. Kahlua shuddered as Mauja set the stage for his story to come. She knew fire all too well, knew the way it wrecked and ravaged. It had not eaten her, had not taken her in it’s grasps, but she had watched as it had swallowed up the Cathedral and the forest she had called home. She never had known what had happened to the Preacher and her mother, but she never did see them escape. Perhaps they had been too stubborn to leave their stony walls. And her twin? She doubted he had burned, but hadn’t the flames separated them all the same? They had loved one another, in their own way.

No, flames had not been kind to her either.

And his story went on, one of sadness and strife, one of being wrenched from your home. With a glance towards her home, where she knew the wall would be standing, Kahlua sighed. She felt for Mauja and his story, knew the pain of being forcible removed from the only land you had ever loved. If only the unicorns were not so unlikable, it would make this all so much easier for the painted girl.

And then his talk of nightmares- of being haunted by the fire. She turned her head back to the spotted king, eyes misty once again, but this time in confusion. A war waged in her head, one she did not know how to stop, because she knew this story all too well. The story of endless nights were fears trapped you in dreams you did not want to be having, of days where you feared the sunset because night meant sleep and more terrors. Where waking was your only reprieve, but the night seemed endless and you wondered if there would ever be a dawn. Yes, Kahlua knew that story intimately.

He looked at her, and though she was not brave, she held his gaze, because she knew him. She knew his fears, knew his story and knew, somehow within her, that she was not in danger. He was a killer… but not a murderer. Somewhere in the talk of flames and wars, of dragons and scars it had begun to make sense. Something had gotten through to her.

The juxtaposition of searing fire and the ice spoke that rose from the ground was a beautiful crescendo to the story, the culmination of destiny. And as he made the spike rise from the ground, she turned her face once more towards the wall. Had she really formed the top of the glass into spear points? An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. That was what Evangeline had said to her. And it made her sick to her stomach now, just thinking of it. She wanted to run to the glass, to tear the wall down, to shatter it to a million pieces. She had justified it with her own fear, when she had constructed the thing, but now… She wasn’t sure she could justify it any longer. What made her fear so much more important than everyone else’s? What made her desire for a home more valuable than Mauja’s herd that had been ejected?

He died smiling. His words pulled her back from her wall, two tears finally having freed themselves from her eyes and run down her cheeks. And so when she finally looked back to the king, she smiled too, a genuine action she didn’t even have to think about. She stepped towards him, closing the void she had opened between them. But she didn’t stop, kept on walking, until she was beside him. And, if he would let her, she tried to hang her head and neck over his withers. “I forgive you.” And she hung there for some seconds, holding onto the moment as long as she could. This. This was what the world needed. Understanding. She could see it now- Kaj’s points had all made sense. She just hadn’t known it then.

In time, when it finally seemed right, she stepped back. But somewhere in those moments, in those seconds, she had grown a little. She had aged from frightened child to determined woman. She had vowed before to make things right between herself and Torliek. But now she made a new vow to herself, and to Mauja. “When you’re ready, come find me.” She looked to his eyes, trying to catch his gaze, wanting him to know that this was not the game of a child. “I’ll make them understand, I’ll make them see. I won’t let them condemn you.”

It was a lofty goal for the painted girl and even as she said it she wondered how long it would take to achieve, but she never wondered if she could achieve it. She would. She absolutely would. And perhaps Mauja would not believe her. He had seen so many of her ups and downs in the few hours they had known one another that certainly he would think her a useless ally, but she didn’t care. She had said the words and she meant them. She would stand against Mirage. She would stand against Lace. She would stand beside Mauja and fight for his rights, if he would have her. Because she couldn’t live in a world where somebody’s fears made them a criminal.


OOC| Sorry for the wall of text. So many emotions to deal with.