He’d told me where to go and then had quickly departed.

I’d stayed for a few moments, watching the empty space where his mostly emaciated hind end had once been, the gentle swaying of the brush from his black frame passing through. That he had so quickly supplied me the answers I desired and then left me to myself was pleasant; it was reminiscent of the slave men of my abandoned life, fulfilling to the wicked devils that danced in each beat of my heart. I smiled softly to myself as I spread my wings and charge forward in the empty space of the clearing before me, shoulders rippling with the efforts to propel myself upwards.

I crested over the tree line with a glance to the Moon, her face benevolent and kind as it guided me south. My gaze was set below me, watching the steady and picturesque change in the types of trees that grew in the two separate forests; this one was much darker and far older, it would seem, or had been tainted by tragedies of long ago.

The trees are mostly all deep green and needled, densely clustered together and rising like massive giants into the sky. Keeping my gaze low, I searched each clearing for the pool that he’d agreed to meet me at, hopefully with his Phantom Seeker in tow; I am not sure how capable I will be of containing my poisonous blood if he arrives alone, without the guide he has promised.

I believe that we both know he is incapable of providing me such insight on his own, and he is weak in comparison to myself. I would likely do something I would come to deeply regret; such tarnishes on my new life cannot be allowed.

The description of the thing lingered in my mind, another flash of the dream that had brought me here; trusting that I had met the proper man in the proper area, however, I kept straight south, great wings beating to suspend my graceful frame in the heavens. It is only through such faith in my abilities that I have progressed or grown so powerful. I will not begin to doubt their truth now, even in the absence of new visions – they have never been wrong.

I have replayed this particular dream thousands of times whilst I travelled alone, with only the throbbing of my heart for company. This red water is in my dream (though I am alone in the picture), and it is dead south of where I have met the inebriated stallion.

I just now realize that I do not even know his name. What a dismal failure that conversation had been.

Spying below me what I believe to be the pond in question, I circle downwards in search of the best spot of descent. It has been the only clearing in miles, the seemingly impenetrable forest unforgiving in her choice of landing sites, and it is the first I have seen that is actually large enough to allow one to meet the earth safely.

I have been wary of trees ever since the accident two years ago. I am loathe to experience such pain and subservience to one’s hooves again.

I come to earth with a nearly silent scuffle of split hooves and rivulets of pale blue mane and the tassels of my tail. The pool of crimson water sits smooth as glass in the distance, drawing me closer to examine what it is that has made the water such a hue.

It is not truly red, the water at least. The bottom of the natural basin is lined in rubies, and I gaze upon their opulence with a soft smile that can only be found on women while looking upon the gleaming, natural wonders of the world. What an unusual place, this Helovia, a land where the water grows from gemstones and there is a home for even the most smashed of drug users.

It is the sort of place that would make Inanna cringe – and I find that I quite enjoy that idea, perhaps a little too much.

Cealestis