After a fruitless expedition to the Threshold forest and a long night spent defenceless, Africa and Silas were flying south. They had spent a number of days exploring Sky Island recently (deciding whether or not its sudden existence was too good to be true), and many duties had been left for later. There were a number of new faces to meet, activities to organise for the oncoming season, and a tournament to plan- so that Dragon’s Throat might at last have a Gladiator to motivate troops who grew fat and weak in their idleness. At some point too, the ambitious mare intended to lead any interested herd members to the Island to join in the festivities.

...and we will need to hurry ahead with the herd meeting. she was explaining, hoping perhaps that her bonded might retain some share of the more important thoughts, so her overflowing mind would not burst its banks entirely. There are many matters to discuss, the alliance with Mid... Hidden Falls, rank changes- Oh! And of course Sohalia’s rise to Sultana. That was possibly the most important announcement to make and she scoffed out loud at herself for almost forgetting. Please, don’t let me overlook that... she laughed silently, and Silas watched her through the violet eye closest, overwhelmed, but trying his best to support her.

It was midday by the time parrot and Zephyr breached the unmarked border of their home. The sun’s potency was extreme, and the one-winged mare was keen to fall beneath the glorious shade of the oasis; to sink perhaps into the cool, invigorating waters of the lake to its centre. As they passed down the length of the sandy link to the mainland, Africa thought that even the frothing sea to each side looked rather inviting. She peered down vaguely, captivated by the rich dark stew of water, until Silas’s glossy black form just ahead pulled up sharply. Dragon... he warned, elaborate feathering flaring brilliantly.

Wait!

It was a memory hidden beneath the tangle of most recent events; a time that she rarely relayed, a white-scaled face that perhaps she had thought she’d forgotten. Don’t you remember her? The avian’s chest rumbled curiously, pensively, perhaps... They’d met when Africa was at her most vulnerable, when the scar still shining vivid pink across her wingless shoulder had been raw and burning red. But now, she only recalled the warmth felt when her eyes had collided with the Dragon’s bottomless blue; a soothing caress that had caused prickling, aching nerves to dull. The name was exotic, she knew, but for the time being it escaped her. Lace... she remembered suddenly, and grey parrot wings tucked to execute a rather hasty descent.

Silas swooped down behind her, the star-glitter trailing blunted by the intensity of the day.

Standing below were two stallions; the unforgettably webbed face who had called her Nell, and Cera, their beloved Diviner, and they grew steadily as she neared. A small distance away she slowed, fluttering with reaching naked legs to find the blisteringly hot sand. As she landed, the parrot’s concentration was already narrowing, and her eyes had closed. She began the painful transformation to her Pegasus form, and minutes later, was striding wearily towards them upon sound, hard hooves.

“Cera,” she cooed a little breathlessly, the nature of her voice ever peaceful and warm. Africa moved to his side and closed her eyes again for a moment, to recover entirely. The act of shape-shifting was completely unnatural; bones twisting and merging together, feathers sprouting far faster than was normal, and limbs both vanishing and growing in rapid time. It was wearing, though the one-winged had learned to appreciate the bad with the good. After a minute or so, as Silas landed carefully upon the silken robe draped across her, lashes parted once more and she smiled in turn, to each stallion; regarding Cera especially with a fond bump by her nose.

“Lace,” she beamed with some tenderness, “Do you remember me? It’s been so long.”