The Moon was high in the sky, though her face was not full, rather a mere sliver of existence. The heat was oppressive, the days long – in fact, night-time had become a mere few hours, and this displeased the mare. Though she seemed to be feeling the heat a bit less than some – a lucky consequence of the Light elemental magic her cloak enabled – it still bothered her that even in the ‘cool’ of the night, she was unable to get away from the humidity and lingering effects of the long days. Even the night felt incomplete, it felt lighter, as if the Sun only just ducked beneath a translucent blanket for a handful of hours. The obsidian maiden longed for the darkest hours to return, and she wondered what had caused such a harsh season. Her thoughts drifted to the falling of the Order – and suddenly another idea formed, one that suggested perhaps that was the cause of these conditions, conditions that could very well evolve into a dry and deadly drought. We will survive. The golden queen chirped, having been dozing in the tree above the mare, but stirred when the idea of a jealous tantrum being the trigger point for such happenings floated across their link. Of course we will, my dear. But what of the little ones, the ones less able? Raven façade looked up at the golden statuesque figurine in the tree. It was a new sensation, this wanting to care for others, normally the mare was concerned only with herself and her dragon, but upon deciding that Helovia would be the place she resided forever more, and making such friends that she had grown to indeed love very dearly, she had discovered a compassionate streak within her.

The mare sighed, looking forlornly at the tall timbers around her. This Deep Forest was so much like her birth realm, though smaller – too small to host a herd permanently – she felt immediately comfortable within the dark canopy’s leafy grasp. Despite the heat, and the worries that plagued her, she found herself humming. As the words formed in her cranium, her dragon stirred also, continuing with the soothing melody, while Mirage’s honey-warm and accented voice dared to break free from her usually indifferent lips. They sung, together, walking a twisted and tight path with ease, somehow always seeming to know whereabouts they were.


"My life goes on in endless song
above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear it's music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?"


It was an eerie, slow, almost haunting melody. It spoke so much about her, especially her contentedness with the friendships she had formed. It hinted of the beginnings of something grand, something near to her heart; The Qian. In the group she had gathered, she had found herself willing to stand and take responsibility for what she believed in, to gather those around her who shared in those beliefs. She did not expect any to fight for her, though she knew her siblings, at the very least, would. And fighting would be necessary, she doubted her cry for wanting a home for herself and her group would come with ease – especially since she longed to lead a herd, in a herd land. But Mirage was a diplomat, and only when diplomacy failed would she take the next appropriate steps. But it was as the song wrote; it was a part of her soul and her soul longed for a realm to call her home. Only a home where others would look to her for guidance, others would trust her to lead.

A home where she could be herself.

"While though the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
And though the darkness 'round me close,
songs in the night it giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm,
while to that rock I'm clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
how can I keep from singing?
When tyrants tremble in their fear
and hear their death knell ringing,
when friends rejoice both far and near
how can I keep from singing?
In prison cell and dungeon vile
our thoughts to them are winging,
when friends by shame are undefiled
how can I keep from singing?"


Continuing onwards, the melodic sounds never stopped. Through the added timbre of the trees, her song may have sounded akin to that of sirens singing of the sea – like the sirens, she was in her element, the dark wooded lands were a comfort to her soul, she could not contain the song. Akaith made deep, humming and singsong sounds, attuned to her bonded’s own vocal capabilities, and like everything else in life, they complimented each other comfortably.

[ Song is ‘How can I keep from singing’ by Enya ]