Words were spoken, they bashed against his ear canals like bare bones banging tunelessly on a drum. He winced, and daring to open his eyes a crack, the stallion saw the gleaming, golden winged stallion nearby. His own eyes were yellow, bright and strange, a stark electric current amongst his charred frame and messed forelock. What was done was done, the battle had been waged and the only fight actually fought resulted in death of the warriors on both sides. Azzuen had no care for this Ra, just as Vayu would have no care for his brother, but the words Vayu spoke were harsh, ruthless, and did nothing to soothe the stallion’s already vexed temperament, even if his now herdmate spoke them with the means of developing comradely acquaintances with himself. Had the Tuuli done nothing at all, what would have become of the lands – would they have been driven into ruin? Did the Pegasus band merely accelerate the decay that was already occurring?

Azzuen liked to comfort himself with that thought.

And then another came, one who smelt strange, different. Instinctively Azzuen activated his magic to enhance his sense of smell, trying to decide who or what this figure was. It took more effort than usual, but he got there soon enough, and openly inhaled the atmosphere nearby to get a better sampling of the scent. So much could be interpreted by scent, and Azzuen had become an expert at divulging the secrets of many a person’s aroma. But this one surprised him, for it smelt like the Dragon’s Throat, it reminded him of fire, it made him think of the weight of the sun’s rays bearing down upon his back when he flew across he lands. Odd, yellow eyes stared piercingly at the horned, winged brute who stood by Vayu, squinting slightly against the palomino pair who gleamed so brilliantly in the day’s oppressive heat. Though Azzuen was not an Atheist, he had been brought up with different Gods, so naturally it took him a moment to understand that he was standing in the presence of one of Helovia’s gods.

The Tuuli did not worship, each individual was free to decide for themselves what path of righteousness they would take. The lands of the Throat was blessed by the Sun God – and suddenly it all fell into place for Azzuen. Ra, that accursed lion, he led the Order, the Order of the Sun. Oh shit, and we destroyed him, we destroyed the Order, and now.. He didn’t need to finish his thoughts, instead he felt his knees crumple as the realisation struck him. It is our fault, this drought, our fault.. And yet they were the ones whose lands remained only slightly warmer than a normal summer’s day, their lands still grew juicy grasses and had plentiful water. It didn’t make sense to the Pegasus – why punish the rest of the world and spare the lands were the supposed traitors rested? The question resounded in his cranium before he could control it, and he was now certain that the Sun God would have heard it.

Tears burned behind his eyes, thought they evaporated as soon as they tried to drip from his eyelids. He bowed his head, his knees still scraping the ground, terrified and confused for what might be in store for them all.