I used to hope I’d die a hero. I guess age has a way of manipulating one’s dreams and making them wholly sundry, of making them jump from one ship to the next. It’s true, I’d adopted some pretty eccentric tastes over the years, but I liked to believe that somewhere deep, deep down I was still the innocent colt my mother had taken the time to raise. I didn’t ponder my childhood much, but sometimes it was necessary- you know to castrate any demons looking to get a little action from behind. Last thing any man needed was to wake up wondering where the hell he’d been the night before. I liked to be prepared, to be able to run before the sun stirred any wild desires discovered between the sheets after a drunken affair.

I’d given up becoming a hero because I loathed the idea of dirtying the only coat I owned, but then again I didn’t spend a lot of time with any one individual. I had no reason to anger fellow stallions and certainly had no business getting attached to some foolheaded mare. Becoming a nomad was something I’d decided of my own volition and it kept me company at night. That’s all I could ever want out of life.

Right?


The day had only begun but I was growing quite restless after waiting an eternity for something to strike my fancy (in reality it may have been about ten minutes, but honestly, whose counting?). I thrived on a great many things that ranged from physical encounters to interesting conversations right down to the occasional consort (don’t get ahead of yourself, I’m talking strictly platonic… berry picking and shit- or whatever you ladies spend your time doing). Without entertainment I was known to grow quite fussy as ignorant as it sounds.


After so much time spent in my own head, I’d nearly missed the bending of spring vegetation underfoot. It was such a soft sound that if I’d been fat on herd life and too comfortable in my own skin I would have missed it. But I’d arrived a wild man and decided to stay that way. The life of a vagabond bachelor proved beneficial once again!


It wasn’t long until a pale looking mare wandered into sight. It was evident that she had missed the memo though, as she embodied everything I’d strived to avoid. She was lovely though. If I were a weaker man, I would have though her to be passably “pink” or “cute as a button”… but I’d be damned if I was ever consumed by such lunacy. Besides, I’d been far more entranced by the flutter of Red just overhead. Upon lifting dual-colored eyes to the wide, blue face of our mysterious atmosphere, I gaped.

Now what the fuck was that?!


Surely to God it was not a dragon. Surely it was some oversized bird. Honestly, I had to question my own sanity at that point. I’d come to Helovia, met some queer looking glass-mare and now I was imaging dragons? May Hell carry me down to her merry bosom and swallow me whole- I was going mad.

Without hesitation I called out for the mare (she was yet too far for me to analyze clearly or I would have seen her missing ear, but I’m not that judgmental), “Hello! What are you doing there?!” I huffed excitedly. I wanted her to call that dragon from above and just let me… look at it. If I was going mad as a hatter, the least I could do was revel in my own insanity.


Just when I was about to approach her (more than likely against her wishes), I was struck by a strangely feminine hymn upon the wind’s soft folds. It was not yet defined as female but… something seemingly otherworldly. I was momentarily gridlocked between seeking out the rose-colored gal and turning to acknowledge the creature capable of such… whimsical song.

Well hell, I only lived once.

Turning on a whim, I was… shocked by the creature just beyond. I can’t say that the term “shocked” really covered the sight I beheld but I was certainly something. I’d died and gone to draconic heaven.

This new -was she a mare?- creature was a thing of beauty -exotic beauty- but beauty nonetheless. I did wonder how my rosy girl faired in lieu of the dragon horse, but I had yet the attention span to check. No, I was mesmerized by the ghostly image of one very mythical and very blue dragon spirit. When my eyes were content with the first they navigated to a series of unearthly spirits, growing wider and wider with the onslaught of blasphemy.

It took me a moment to decide how to handle such a sensitive situation, after all, I was quite out of my element now. If this was to be my fate upon my second night in Helovia… I did have to question what would become of me in future circumstances. What mysteries lurked behind shadow and magic awaiting mine eye?

God this mental catastrophe was really kicking my ass. As if witnessing dragons, dragon spirits, and a dragon mare weren’t enough- I’d started quoting to Shakespeare. “Well hello…” I breathed.