Much had happened personally since their last meeting by the fire of the Diviner where she as Oracle, had revelled nervously for the first time in the warmth of his surreal illumination; that which had doused the winking laughter of the stars glancing down from the black night sky, and weakened the stark glow of that Orangemoon’s unusual moon. Africa’s guilty mind had been put to rest at last, eased by the shoulder of a close friend, and she now wore beside the gift-feather from her Lord, and that of her companion, a timely reminder that she need not dwell on the pain of her past... any part. Two pure gold feathers dangled high in her mane, and they were heavy enough to stroke optimism back through a recovering mind, whenever it began to regress. ‘What is broken, can sometimes fly again…’ Midas had told her, and those words had been a stirring compliment to the wisdom previously imparted by the all-knowing God of the Sun. Soon enough, she would be ready to exact that revenge…

He appeared as radiant as ever, spilling light through a room and its underworld flora which, she imagined musingly, might have never seen such before. Africa cared not to shield her eyes (though blinding he was to a gaze so well adjusted to the climate of a tomb), and watched as closely as she dared as his suave resonating voice began to stroke the pitch of waiting, anticipating ears. White stockinged legs pulled her closer; a soul drawn to the warmth of his presence like a moth to flame, pulled to the comfort granted by his sudden appearance, and she nestled instinctively apart from the wild-mannered blue Pegasus, to listen. Her interest piqued, even when only the first sentence had been offered- gratitude, for answering a call she had truly been none the wiser about; had not directly heard. So phenomenal were the Gods and their infinite ability- mystery and wonder surrounding them that Africa’s skin prickled with intrigue. Also, it was the first time the name of the blue banshee had been revealed to her, and Africa cast a secretive glance her way- filled with silent mistrust.

He mentioned soon enough, that the light would be returned to Helovia, and the hopeful grey bristled with unspoken cheer. The God continued, explaining that they would help him achieve that goal as ‘bringers of light’, and that they would be rewarded in turn. Africa, with a mind as simple as the bleak tone of her coat, tilted her head a little as she tried in earnest to wrestle the idea into some form of self-appeasing logic. She thought it curious too, that neither Midas, nor Gaucho was standing with them, receiving this glorious news from the patron of their home. She spoke nothing of this though. Humbleness leaked through her pallid features and a smile graced the twitch of pursed, concentrated lips. The God of the Sun then looked squarely upon the two nearer mares, Ampere and Africa, the profound nature of his shining, ethereal gaze able to secure them both in one stroke. Coal-coloured ears flickered for a moment- stunned like a deer in a spotlight.

The direction to follow was more than unexpected; it was an instruction that both shocked the one-winged mare, and filled her with new immeasurable courage. He offered both mares a thoughtful praise, explaining how each held attributes that would support the herd he would harbour; and while she squirmed a little at the prospect of crowning and releasing such an unpredictable, irrational flame (as she knew Ampere to be) to forge new foundations in the Throat, Africa trusted her Lord with every beat of her faithful- feeble heart. Despite the tethered loathing boiling through her core, the young mare smiled with all the graciousness she could muster, understanding without question that he knew better than any mortal what would be best for the herd and his realm. Still more, she doubted her own ability. Then a new mass was felt upon her brow, and soft sandy eyes lifted to find the glimmering front of a golden crown- though she could only see the dragons embellishing Ampere’s, as she peered stiffly (supporting the treasure with perhaps too much care) across to the other mare wonderingly.

Ampere was already looking towards where the unlikely leader in murky-grey and her Zephyr companion stood, blue eyes still brighter for the iridescence beaming upon them. Through a moment’s hesitation, bewildered concentration, the one-winged mare thought she saw a smile captured by thought upon the other’s maw- a message shining through the vivid hue of that gaze. Certainly theirs was a relationship to be rewritten. A silent prayer was made as a gentle smile washed in return through her own expression; though she doubted not for one second that her Lord would always be their guiding light.

Without delay the God of the Sun turned towards the doorway to the glowing chamber. Africa followed respectfully and dutifully, bathed in the reflective silence which more or less had been set into her temperament over the years, considerate always of the others accompanying as they moved to bask in the cool beauty of a remarkable dawn; a new day and a fresh era. It would be an event that would be woven into the history of her beloved desert, and retold over and over, by the generations to come.

Africa