Returning side by side with Akaith, the little White felt somewhat pleased with herself as she landed in the tree above her bonded and listened to the the inner voice of her golden-queen-friend. It had been a wise decision to ask for aid, there hadn't been even an ounce of hesitation before the leaders had come to help as she asked for it. It was befitting of one in command to listen to those beneath, as it was fitting for the followers to support and aid the leaders when it was necessary. It was even better that the advice given was sound and useful. She warbled quietly, part thankful and part soothing as the gray stallion beneath began to stir, his instincts revealing the approach of others even as his mind was captured within the realm of dreams.

Doing as the golden companion had suggested, she slipped her own mind around that of the horse, before he had the chance to completely wake up, and gently brought it back further into the subconscious.

Change. Shifting, stirring, tendrils of moonlight and shadow dispersed and drifted off in the wind as the world began to revolve around itself. Brilliant stars fell from a velvet sky and grew as the fell, the light brightening as they began to swirl around him. The shadows dissipated, darkness pushed back, and chill was replaced by a gentle warmth. Like a mothers embrace, the sticky hand of a sister holding out her last piece of candy, the fragrant quiet of a lovers arms. Trust. Affection. Love? It enveloped him, soothed the distress and stilled the frenzy of the dream.

A sigh slipped from the maw of the silver-coated horse, and under the warm wing of the gentle dragon he relaxed, muscles loosening up just enough, so that he still remained standing. Beneath the closed eyelids his orbs were moving, straining to perceive the events that unfolded within the depths of his mind.

It was white. The landscape reminded him of a desert he had once crossed, while Fajira was little more than a hatchling and they just had left Isilme. It had been a dry place, a dryness that came of scorching heat and no perspiration for years on end. The kind of dryness that left only white sand and salt, as the sun beat down upon you from a sky so pale and dry that even the water of the atmosphere had disappeared.
He was standing on something, a vast plain of light that stretched on without end, to a horizon that he couldn't see but knew was there. Something separated the sky from the ground, the up from the down, but it was not for him to know what it was. It simply was, and it was good enough.
Before him a white fire danced from the tip of a small tree, barren and leafless, with silken bark. It burned steadily, a tall and bright flame that didn't consume the wood beneath, without moving or decreasing. Something compelled him to look at it, to search within the milky flame. At first he saw nothing, nothing but the brightness that seared the eyes, that burned away the shadows and darkness and threatened to even erase the soot of the markings upon his body.
Then, a flicker of movement caught his attention. He looked closer, focused on the image that began to grow, becoming clearer within the fire.

A vision of himself walking across a warm, dry plain where ash littered the ground, toward a pit where the very blood of the earth came into view. A figure waiting, clad in golden flames and light, soon to be joined by brother earth and sister moon. The details of the conversation were muffled, unimportant. More clear was the sight of a ball of fire hurling towards him, the sight and sound of it burning away the skin on his back. It looked so much worse than it had felt, and a sense of nausea at the sight of the charring skin welled up from within, only to be burned away by the fire - almost disapprovingly. Then the fire ceased to burn and a purifying light stroke across the damaged area, returning it to a state of health and strength - healed, but altered. Clad in a golden cape, like a rich cloak blessed with questions. Why, being the biggest.

Why indeed.

But there was no time to ponder, because the scenery changed. This time he heard the vibrant sound of the Lady of the Moon declare her brother banished, reveal the start of a series of games. The stallion watched from above how he ran across all of Helovia, skillfully bringing himself to victory. The sight of the Moon Lady at the finish, dark and mysterious, a suggestion of a smile curving the riddled lips as she for a moment followed him with her eyes. Why?

Again, change. A vision of Mirage, as they talked and frolicked across a meadow beneath a harvest moon, kissed by its haunting light. The knowledge that he could follow, charge for the land of the Moon, that change might come if he did.
Change. A stallion walking by his side across a dry meadow, speaking of war and family. A decision being made.

The scenes changed quickly now.
Invasion. Armies lined up before one another. Chaos ensued, blood spilled, the tides turning to one side then the other. When the dust scattered they stood victorious, the family called Qian. And something did change. A gentle caress, a cloak being draped over his dusty shoulders, a weight landing upon the back. Even now he could feel it, a whisper of something different that pressed against his consciousness. A tickling sensation, returning the memory of glittering tendrils that enveloped him, urged him to act. The dreams were laid out before him, patiently as one might explain colors and shapes to a child. Dreams of the forest growing around him, branches reaching out to touch his skin. Darkness taking shape, solidified by light and cooled by silken waters.

Slowly, steadily, realization began to dawn on him. The gods, the war, the dreams. The change. The images in the fire died out, the bright place faded away around him and left him, to figure out the rest for his own.

Beneath the cold light of the stars the dragon stirred, shifting her wings and snorting tiredly. It had been more difficult that she'd thought, mainly because the thickness of her bonded forced her to make everything very, very clear and easy to understand. She shared her complaints with the other dragons, casually including Mirage as a sister of soul. For a while everything remained peaceful, quiet. Then Lace sighed and stirred, murmuring something unintelligible before the eyes fluttered open. Drowsy and still half asleep, it took him a moment to assess the situation. Eyes moved from the wing covering his back to the large dragoness by his side, up to the White on the branch and Akaith beside her.

"Good morning to you too" he murmured, halfway caught in the tangles of dreams still, and somewhat puzzled as to why almost all the dragons of the Edge stared at him while he slept. "This is unexpected.. But I wonder if Vikram would approve." A slightly wry grin slipped over his maw as he gave Mirage a glance from the side, teasing while trying to understand the situation.


[ooc: long ramble post. hope you have something to reply to..]