Silence engulfed them. If one could describe the electric chaos that was the weather at the moment. Crackles and sparks still flew in the clouds above them, occasionally highlighting and outlining strange figures in the clouds above. One might wonder at what creatures dared to live within a storm, what could survive the tumultuous habitat that was a raincloud? One might wonder this, if they allowed their thoughts to wander too far from more urgent matters. The storm was passing now, at least the thunderous parts of it, bringing in its stead thick, heavy droplets of rain. Over the ocean, a great wall seemed to disrupt the smooth surface of the wavy water, though for now only the outskirts of the precipitation touched them. The log by their side hissed some more, the flames continued to complain about their fuel being damp.

It felt like, to the little shadow mare, that with every rain drop that fell from the sky, a new thought tracked through her mind. She listened wholeheartedly to his tale, her gaze never wavering from his own , her ears tracking his voice on the stormy wind and capturing, storing the words he weaved away. He revealed so much about himself, with such earnest intricacy, Mirage could not doubt that he spoke truth. A twirl of emotions engulfed her, as she went on this journey with him. The most initial was a sense of honour, that he would choose her, of all the creatures within Helovia, to tell his tale to. Another would be understanding, for his plight held similarities with actions her own hooves had done, though perhaps the similarities began and ended with the resulting guilt one placed upon themselves after performing grievous actions.

The mare sensed his hopelessness at being left unanswered by the Gods, she longed to have aided him there, but despite all her performances, she was only ever a mortal mare, with little sway over the great celestial, immortal beings that were the Gods of Helovia. He continued to speak, names from Isilme of old that sometimes rang a bell within the mare's cranium - so long ago had the originaly been planted there, however, it was only names, and blurry faces within her mind's eye that she saw upon their mention. Aera, she remembered, being named as the ShadowKissed, and she thought of Adele, the curiously hued daughter of the inky mare whom had stepped through the Threshold some months ago. Querida was mentioned, though she did not meet the mare, she remembered some affiliation with another, a Sylvanas, a dark unicorn mistress whom had come across Mirage before Akaith had even emerged from her egg. It helped, Mirage thought, that she knew of these creatures, of Isilme, but held little emotional ties to the place.

His words faded into the storm surrounding them, and the little shadow mare knew the tale was done, the great betrayal was revealed. She knew how he felt without even needing him to speak it. Guilt. Fear. Remorse. The mare nodded, silently conveying that she grasped what he had spoken, and even what he had not spoken. Mirage knew of these emotions, intimately.

"The reason you were healed, I suspect, was because someone chose to forgive you for your actions." Her strong, clear voice began, firm and unwavering over the pitter-patter of raindrops on the sand. The silence had lingered for several minutes while the mare digested everything he had said, but somehow she knew he would not leave until he heard all that she had to say. It was by his request that she gave her judgement on his past, anyway.

"It is my belief that some kind of witchcraft possessed you that night." She did not bother to expand upon which night she referred to; he would know. "Your actions were an act of evil, Lace. But you yourself are not evil. You feel sorry for what you have done; your act of betrayal might be considered unforgivable by some - but remember, you were forgiven, by at least one."

With an easy step, Mirage closed the gap between them, reaching out to the stallion with her velveteen muzzle, aiming to caress the track a tear she thought she saw made down his chiselled crown. "Weep, Lace, weep for what you did, for you caused much pain, and sorrow. Shed your tears, and shed your guilt. Remember what you have done, and let that be punishment enough. Evil only rules you if you allow it to." The mare gave a small breath of air, its warmth lingering between them. The vicinity with which she stood by the steed allowed her to feel the chill that dared enter his body, and with gentle nudging and coercing, she encouraged him to stand closer to the fiery log, and placed her own bodice on his other side. "You will have to help him, Fajira." She spoke to the dragon situated atop his withers, leaving her maw within reach of the dragon should the little white accept her gentle caress.

"I do not know how many here might know of you from Isilme times, Lace. But should you come across any who question your honour, ask that they direct their questions to myself." Mirage could see that he had already paid for his crime, the punishment his mind had imprisoned him within was redemption enough. Of course, Lace would likely hardly see it this way, but the mare knew that though her words contained wisdom, they themselves would not ward off future weaknesses of resolve in the stallions own membrane. It all depended on himself, and Fajira.