Daylight faded, drifting across the sky in a rainbow miasma of colours, coalescing in an array of clouds and fantastic shapes that one did not know existed until they saw them written in the skies. Much the same could be said for the golden fringed creature that danced her dance across those very same clouds, curious coloured dragon spirits weaving their joyous dance through every elegant sweep of her wings, every swing of her elongated tail. They chimed in with her laughter, so that from afar, there was a symphony, a chorus of music that was not quite equine, not quite draconic, and not quite of this world. Love and laughter filled her soul, as the spirits, her friends and her guardians through this world, led her to where they knew she longed to be.

But the girl was grown, and her journey from the Threshold to the Edge was not a direct one - by choice. There was an invisible wall, a barrier, and she knew it was within. The belle knew well enough that her mother had not passed from this world, at least not in the traditional sense that one passes away. Amaris had gotten to know the dragons that she was able to summon, and many of them had been bonded in their lives previous to their deaths. The dragon-girl had confidence that should she will it, should the golden queen have passed, she would be able to summon the spirit of her mother's dragon, beloved Akatih. And since the golden queen had not appeared, she felt sure that her mother was not dead.

But that also meant that she was not in this world, for surely if Mirage were still alive, still whole and completely within this dimension, she would know. Her father had often commented how Akaith's soul was ever present aside his own, not as directly as it was for her mother, of course, but still there. And now it wasn't.

So, the girl did not feel as if the Edge, the place of her birth, was the place to visit. Not straight away. Though dismayed, her draconic company accepted this with a simple comforting swell against her soul, the three coloured shadows creating an arrow formation before her nose, guiding her into a dive, painting her hide in the trails of their lights, like a comet leaves behind a trail of stars in its wake. The belle smiled, and as her hooves stretched forward to break the surface of the pond she had deigned as her destination, her musical voice erupted in laughter once more.

With surprise she swiftly stifled her laughter, however, as she spotted a pale figurine skitter across the surface. Her hooves found purchase against the silty base of the pond, the water level lapping to a level just above her pectorals, waves rippling outwards from her silvery, crème, and golden self. Cat-slitted, golden eyes peer out over the crystalline surface, curiously searching for the pale one she was sure she saw. The spirits that danced about her, called their own magical tune, a red and a blue skittered across the surface excitedly, even as she lifted her leathery wings from the surface of the pond, and watched as silver droplets cascaded from the folding curves. Attention floated once again over the surface of the pool, to where the land stretched, where fragrant plants grew, and where a silver horse stood.

He was mostly silver, anyway. Gold coated his shoulders and spine, and a small, devious smile played on the lips of the belle at the sight of him. She moved, her speed hindered by the water that dragged at her limbs, but somehow the grace of the combination of species that ran through her blood prevailed, even as she pulled herself from the water and made to close the gap between them. The white one, she recognised now, as Fajira, and a low, melodic hum was sent her way, the sound vibrating in her throat like a deep, reptilian purr. Caramel hued strands fell across her eyes, and those that ran the length of her whip-like tail dripped heavily, waterlogged from their dip in the water.

"Lace," she spoke warmly, remembering the first time she ever met the steed, the way he had looked at her mother. And, with some wistfulness, the belle could not help wondering if someone would ever look at her like that.

@[Lace]