“A pleasure to meet you, Brendan and Arwen,” the sea maiden nods to them both, looking first to the silver-painted stallion and then to his companion, before her eyes wander back to the trail ahead. Much to her delight, Brendan doesn’t hesitate in taking a place at her shoulder, falling easily into her step as they travel towards
home. Nimue lingers at her other side, wary of the strangers, as the little whale often is. Tiamat can feel the pressure of the Leviathan’s pectoral fins brushing against her skin, and she gives her companion encouragement through their bond.
One of the Lady’s ears slants to the side when the young stallion speaks again, answering her query about his choice of profession. He admits that he would like to continue being a healer, and more than a little biased, Tiamat can’t help but give him a beaming smile in response.
“I am delighted to hear that! I was a Time Mender once—I still consider myself a healer,” she shakes her head and laughs softly. Truly, it is much more than a title of rank, but a choice of the heart—no matter the crown placed upon her shoulders, Tiamat will forever have her healer’s heart to guide her.
A wistful sigh escapes her in a slow breath, almost humming to herself. It is a wonder to think about the gods and their magic, how each is unique and distinctive, even when serving the same purpose.
“I’m sure it is quite different. I worked for a long while with herbs before I was able to wield the Spark God’s magic; it works by resetting the timeline of someone’s body. It is a spectacular gift,” Tiamat glances sideways at Brendan, her smile softening.
“I’d also like to learn what it’s like to heal with the Earth God’s power,” her pearly eyes glisten with a thirst for knowledge. There is always something new to learn, no matter how much we teach ourselves.
It is a magnificent fact of life.
Suddenly the stallion’s companion is leaping ahead of them, bouncing playfully to and fro. Nimue watches the hellhound with shy interest while the Ocean’s Light laughs, bumping Brendan’s shoulder with a gentle tap of her muzzle.
“I think she’s excited, no?” The mare’s expression is illuminated with mirth, clearly not bothered by Arwen’s spirit. Fortunately, they don’t have far to go. Just a handful of paces later, they crest the Basin’s entrance, and Tiamat halts beneath the gaze of the two Sentinels.
“This is it!” She exclaims proudly, looking between Brendan and the beautiful valley,
“This is home!”
notes; @Brendan Sorry for the wait!
“Speech.”