O N N I
back then our bones wouldn't break, always fighting to stay awake.

A wisp of a bird forms on Mauja's back, and Onni looks speculatively at it for a moment, the edges blurred. The pegasus is not surprised, having found Lyhty herself, that the Frost King had found another to help shoulder his burdens. Her eyes focus back on his stunning face. Even in the blurred edges of their reality, the modest little mare was quite put to shame by the statue of ice and cold blue highlights of the great King of the Edge. It was had to believe that such a stoic creature had been cast out of his thrown by her mother and the Qian, but Onni still felt that a crown was nestled easily upon the head of the Frostheart. He may bare no title, he may be a ghost, but above anything else, Mauja held the presence of royalty. It had been something that grounded Onni in his presence in their first meeting, but even now, fading and broken, the face of the unicorn made her feel small.

The idea of the Ice King being dead was something that was still strange to the healer, even though she had accepted it only a few moments before. He was one of those great creatures you hear about in tales and legends, one that sounds invincible to the young ears of the audience. For such a knight to be felled must have been an impressive feat, but perhaps the most impressive feat was the will of the stallion to pull through to this world. Dead or alive, there was a respect held in the pale faced healer's heart for the unicorn her mother held a strange hatred for in her chest. His words, normally precise and cool, detached and unaffected, have an odd tone to them. The uncertainty is spoken open, honestly, and for a brief moment Onni feels closer to the statue made of stone. Stripped of normal reservations, the painted mare feels as though she is seeing a side behind the mask of the stallion rarely witnessed in life. It makes her smile to herself a bit. Maybe fate was not as humorless as she thought.

Maybe she was meant to know this icy unicorn all the better.

The next words are just as hesitant, at least in their formation, his face taking a light of desperation that makes her eyebrows furrow over worried blue eyes. She is confused, and it is not something to be surprised about. His step brings him closer, the movement shuddering throughout his figure which fades, reilluminates, moves. The blur of darkness in the corners of her blue eyes captures her attention momentarily, trying to focus upon the owl and the unicorn staring at her like a lost child across a mass of fog. They were standing so close, closer than they had in life, yet the distance between them felt massive. Two beings that were separated by a distance Onni cared not to travel, yet being able to meet through some miracle. Still, Mauja spoke of others, and it makes her wonder what he meant. "Others?" Had he met with others in the afterlife? Had he seen Voltaic? The hope was too much to ask for, and the shaman would not ask such a selfish thing.

This moment was about Mauja the Frostheart. The thinning of his voice worried Onni more than anything, the way he seemed paranoid, frightened, amazed, and excited all at once, like his mind was about to snap under the pressure of the unknown. Did ghosts even have minds? His question makes her smile, laughing slightly at the thought that she was the one who should be questioned for authenticity. Silently, Onni muses how her splotchy figure of white and chocolate appear to the eyes of the King. "Aye, I am real as far as I know. I am beginning to question if you are real, but Helovia is a magical and mysterious place," she nods. "I believe anything is possible." She had seen many shadows of the dead rise from their graves. Mauja would not be a novelty in her life. Besides, Onni had never been one to hallucinate. Why would she start now?