As their time together grows, Vertigo seems to relax a little bit more with each passing moment, which makes the ocean mare happy. Not that the antlered draft had shown any obvious sign of discomfort or reluctance (like some of the others Tiamat has brought home from the Threshold), but Vertigo’s whole demeanor appears to have shifted—even if just slightly—to something more peaceful. Like she has accepted the Basin, just as the Basin has accepted her. Out of the corner of her eye, the sea maiden observes her new herd mate, smiling to herself between short sips of water as the Shire absorbs the sheer beauty of their mountain home.

At the other mare’s initial inquiry, Tiamat pauses before answering, raising her head while a few final droplets fall from her chin. Chasing the little rings of water, Nimue whistles low and quiet, the ocean markings on her sides glowing softly in the twilight darkness. The orca’s bondmate watches with a doting eye, her lips softening into a small smile before she turns her head towards Vertigo. “I’m not sure, to be honest. Maybe the God of the Spark has something to do with it? He’s not the Earth God, but he is a god, so...” Tiamat shrugs her shoulders, her voice drifting off with the lilt of a question, as if to say ‘who can tell?’

There are so many unexplained wonders in this beautiful world.

When Vertigo continues, rewording her question, her smile is mirrored by one from Tiamat. The blue maiden can feel the warmth in her heart swelling, nearly enough to burst. “There are plenty of us here,” she says with the light of her sister stars twinkling in her eyes. “We’ve been much larger in the past, I’ll admit, but we’re far from alone, you and I,” the tip of her horn moves up and down as the sapphire mare nods to herself, focusing on the joy in her spirits, rather than dwell on those who have left (abandoned, without a word, leaving behind a bitterness that is unfamiliar to the Mender).

There is no need for such negativity now.

Arching her neck, she breathes a sigh across the water’s glassy surface, watching as the ripples grow, multiply, and ultimately fade. She observes her sister stars glistening in the reflection, hailing the world while they have their time to shine. If her hooves were not grounded among the tall grasses, then she would think that she could wade into the sky itself, and dance among their glittering lights.

Silence has settled in the moments that have passed, and while she gazes across the lake, Tiamat continues a thought from many minutes before.

“There are four gods in Helovia,” her eyes drift slowly from the water, turning towards the antlered unicorn. “Each one used to be a patron for a different herd, but the God of the Earth disbanded his—the Hidden Falls—when he broadened his focus to all of Helovia,” she swallows past the sudden tightness of her throat, trying to overlook the cold surge of unease that ripples through every vein and muscle. “The God of the Sun rules in the south, over the Dragon’s Throat, and the God of the Moon (Goddess) rules the World’s Edge. The God of the Spark, or the Time God, leads us here,” finally she grins, comforted by the thought of their own powerful and unyielding patron.


“Speech.”

TIAMAT

and I can be your light—

in the dark, I will shine to guide you.