KAHLUA

She had used to like the snow- the way the cold seemed to want the horses to huddle close. Kahlua thrived on closeness, on relationships (friendships, in particular), and the thrill she got from simple conversations with too many faces and names to remember. But this winter, particularly long and harsh in its rule, was wearing on the painted queen. Or perhaps it was that there were too many other worries and not enough cells in her brain to devote attention to each. Whatever the reason, the queen found herself struggling to smile on this crystalline day, though Khan tried so hard with his antics to draw some laughter from her lips.

From her mouth, a basket hung, the music box within playing a song that she knew by heart now. She hummed along with it as mecha scorpion clicked and whirred along mechanically. The ground here was somewhat shielded by the thick nettles on the trees but the glowing rock she carried with her lit the way well. That rock had been more of a comfort to her recently than anything else, a steady beacon in her life when too many other things were crumbling and falling.

Thoughts of Kaj in particular whirled through her head as she paced, her pretty soprano making the music box’s song one of sorrow rather than joy with her dissonant harmony. She had distanced herself from him, trying to let him go, but how could she really be happy? She did not know the phrase ‘if you love them then you have to let them go,’ but if she did she would have scoffed at the idea. It was what she was doing, of course, but it did not give her any peace at night when her nightmares began to haunt her.

A soft voice at the border distracted the queen from her depression and she instinctively altered her gait, heading that direction with hardly a thought about why. When she arrived, she was greeted with a face unknown to her- so rare these days. “Hello,” she answered back after settling her basket into the snow, the music box’s song fading into eternity. “I’m Kahlua, queen of the Edge. Can I help you?” Her voice was uncharacteristically mellow, still whispering of the darkness that swirled within her, but her face at least wore a smile.

As for Khan, he was nearly beside himself to see another dragon. Young and childish, not yet old enough to fully respect the idea of elders and hierarchies, the feathered blue began to caw and flap and bound erratically through the trees, swatting at Tinek if and when he might be close enough, trying to entice this other into some sort of game of rough and tumble or chase. Kahlua spared him a brief glance, but otherwise let her attentions remain on the pretty woman at the border. She was vaguely familiar, the red on her hair reminiscent of one of the Edge’s Sergeants (and also Paladin, whom she had met long ago), but the queen could not place her otherwise and did not try.

@[Ophelia]

the sunshower