Entia
we could write a bad romance

No matter where he went, no matter how he travelled and who he saw, the once-king of Ilir in Liridon was always drawn here, drawn to the scent of the ocean. After his meeting, and his travels about Helovia to learn all the more he could, the broken horned creature was no longer looking hard but he had followed a trail, always wanting to see it - the ocean. The smell of the salt and water, to feel the sand beneath his hooves as they dug in deep in the soft, loose material, until he would reach the compacted wet, densely packed area. He yearned for the ocean; and after a long trek, venturing out of the wooded area and to the shoreline, he was rewarded with what he wanted.

Opening before him, as he stepped from the vegetation to the sand, was the wide open blue of the rolling water, where so much energy coursed and thrashed about, driven by powerful tides of gravity and wind. The black unicorn walked until he reached the edge of the waves, and walked out further still until he stood, almost knee deep as a wave crashed over his limbs. The feeling as cold but it sent a chilling sensation along his body, and Entia gave a deep sigh, relaxing entirely. Though this edge of the world was unfamiliar, the ocean never was.

He knew it all too well; the most vivid of his memories of it though were unpleasant. For a moment it flashes there, beneath a raging storm when his sire threw him and his brother from a cliff, all in the name of bringing peace to them both, to end their suffering of the madness of their family line - but Entia remembers the ocean rushing up to him, as he missed the jagged rocks and hit the water - but then, for such a terrible memory, there is the more overriding one; waking up, gentle sounds of the waves caressing his hide, on the shore of Liridon. Liridon, his Liridon, where he had risen from a petulant young colt into a king, leading his people through a time of fire and darkness. He remembers after the war, standing in the salted sea to let the open wounds bleed, to bring more pain to cover the loss of his son, and there had been Inwe, coming to him and she had comforted him.

Inwe, and his heart skips a beat still when he thinks of her. Now he misses her; and Namtar, and Lucian. Yet Entia was ever the explorer, and he would until he knew his death would come. Liridon would be where he could die, finally, despite how much he hated the place and hated those gods for condemning his homeland to death.

This all passes through his mind, as Entia cranes his head back in the gentle sunlight, the rays warming his hide while he stood there in the water - and he didn't care if he looked strange, the white but broken horned beast, with scar on both sides where he used to have wings long ago, scars from old wars and fights, and with mis-matched eyes that watched the water closely and were relaxed, content.

Entia gave a sigh, and closed his eyes, letting the moment consume him... and he was, for that moment, oblivious to the world.