Tiamat

like the ocean kissed the sky

Slowly the ocean mare’s crying comes to a close, her slender sides hiccupping in a final repressed sob before she swallows thickly, white eyes looking to the black stallion with the sadness gradually fading from their teary depths. The sun’s brilliant light falls upon the two of them and halos their bodies in a warm glow, reflecting from the wet trails that linger on the mare’s cheeks. Like the dazzling brightness of this beautiful spring day, her brilliance cannot be easily snuffed out or smothered, only dampened as the shadows creep frighteningly closer (though her brilliant candle refuses to give in to the darkness).

With the corners of her lips shadowed by a grin, Tiamat listens as the black stallion speaks, confirming once more his promise—his vow to fight against the corruption that riots inside of him, an evil that her innocent mind cannot possibly understand. Accepting his touch graciously, and no longer fearing his afflictions, the ocean mare feels as comforted by his proximity as he is by hers. “Of course, Nox,” she says with a crooked smile growing along her lips, her muzzle trailing over the bridge of his nose as she draws back to meet his gaze, “I’m here for you, whenever you need me—whenever it gets…bad.” Tiamat presses her lips together, exhaling heavily from her nostrils.

She will do all that she can to help her friend—there is no uncertainty about that in her mind. Even if it means to put herself in harm’s way to spare others, to spare a child, then she will gladly do it without hesitation—but Tiamat does not fear Nox, or for her safety when she is with him. If he says that he can control whatever demons fight for his conscience, then the blue mare believes him unquestioningly.

Fluted ears press forward to catch the stallion’s voice when he continues, a more genuine grin (reminiscent of her usual blissful cheer) spreads across her delicate features. “I won’t forget to take you up on those lessons one day, I intend to see your art,” Tiamat gives him a playful wink, a peaceful chime of laughter pealing into the fresh air. She thinks back to their initial meeting, back in the Basin during Frostfall’s frigid clutches, when he had decorated their snow puppy’s face so expertly. She has no doubt that such proficiency is even more defined when put to wood instead of snow.

“Carved into my horn?” She questions, Nox’s inquiry about the markings that decorate her curved horn bringing her attention back to him. “They’re symbols of my parents; the designs are meant to represent the ocean’s waves and sky’s heavens. I was born with them,” smiling in her delight, Tiamat arches her neck, tilting her head from side to side so that he might admire the swirling, intricate patterns more clearly. Of course, the ocean mare doesn’t remember a time when she didn’t have their design, with the wind whistling through their hollows, singing nature’s song. It is a part of her, a mark of her heritage, and she cherishes it.


“Speech.”