I have disobeyed the woman is to help me.

I am afraid that I could bare the silent stillness of those caves no longer.

And so my wings now taste the breeze, my heart soars and fills with each thrust of my wing muscles, the right aching from the close confines in which I have been trapped. I am not without my wariness, however, my ears like turrets that swivel and aim about me, seeking out a dark assailant in the skies. Surely, my kind has been afflicted as well as the earth walkers, and so volatile is this disease that it seems capable of adding appendages where once there were none.

I do not fear for my life. I have dreamt of a distant future, and it is to that silver lining that I cling, a promise of tomorrow that few are given as I once was. I do miss my dreams, the morning rise to find truth was told me over the passing of the eve, but I understand why I cannot have them here.

The Moon, a pale shape in the blue sky, is a ghost of herself as the Sun owns the heavens. Together, they are my old God, the being of Elysia that I worshipped. Here, it would seem they are separate entities.

Magic amazes with every turn.

I have flown to the Threshold, a vast expanse crossed much more quickly by wind current than hoof, and I notice with mild interest that this place, too, seems free of the oblique figures of the infected. It makes me feel slightly cross that Circuta has led us to a hole in the ground rather than a forest, but it also occurs to me that it is the lack of life to maim in this wood that keep them from it.

These facts in mind, I now notice the distinct lack of anyone in comparison to the day in which I had arrived. What had been a healthy flow was seemingly now a trickle, and with good reason; most probably died before making it this far. I did not know how far the disease stretches. It is only probable that it is beyond Helovia, perhaps much worse than we fare here.

I have circled the wood many times, seeking a clearing suitable for landing that contains any figures at all. The weight and warmth of my egg presses against my neck in the sling of my own mane that I have made.

There are none, but I land lightly in a broad and open area very similar to the one I had found Oxy within. Voices sound nearby, revealing that there are beings here that are hidden by the cover of the tall branches, and with an elegant, smooth trot, I am closing the distance between us.

A unicorn and a one winged mare appear before me, the maimed pegasus accompanied by a glimmering and strange bird that I believe is called a Roc. The sight of her damaged wing makes my heart ache for her, such sadness that etches through me in understanding of what she has lost. I, too, was incapable of flight for a time, and I wish nothing of the sort on any who is used to the cradling embrace of the wind. The tail end of the pegasus mare’s words reach my ears, no smile slipping on my face to speak of friendliness as I seal the gap between the three of us.

"There is a reason none wander, sister," I say, nodding my head in greeting to the two of them. The title of kin is not meant for the earth beast, her long horn a blight on her body that I struggle to see as only an embellishment of magic. The black bell sings, tempts me with the unrealistic truth that I should not warn a lesser creature of danger; I should let it swallow her as it has the others who are unworthy.

But I am not that daughter anymore. I am Cealestis, of the Sky, no longer a prisoner of Elysia or the damnable bitch who I regretfully share my blood with.

"Evil walks among the living, stealing our bodies, corrupting our souls," how very like my own blood this disease is, "it would be foolish to wait even here for too long."