He had expected the shadow of her form to join with his again, for her shoulder to nearly rub against his with each thundering step they took.. but after a second, he realized, she hadn't. He had crashed on through the line without her. She was stuck, in the midst of the enemy, and yet he knew that she was not alone there; others hadn't made it through either.. but that had not been their goal, their task, the thing which they needed to accomplish. Duty forbade him to rescue her, duty forced him to keep going, but it was with a heaviness in his soul. Mauja had never enjoyed leaving someone behind, and it felt as if she should be beside him... and yet, he had never needed anyone. But he had no time to think of it, just to know that the one who should've shielded his right flank was missing. He was vulnerable.

Darkness descended from above, in for a split second, everything was chaos — and it tore his heart in two. He could see, protected by a circle of stalwart warriors, a flash of pristine white and a shimmer of scarlet. He knew those colors too well, and he knew the bloodlust in the eyes of his fellow unicorns. He knew the determined thrum of their hooves, the force of their charge, and in the way of dreams, he knew that they had come to kill her.

But the shadow swept in across him as the realization had rooted him where he stood. Duty had made him leave Psyche behind, but duty could not make him advance upon their prey? As the sound of nearby battle rang out he swung his head up and around, but it was already too late. The shape of her silver dragon, so much larger now than it was in life, opened its jaws and his world transformed into an existence of pain. It scoured his flesh and skin in a too familiar fashion, such an intimate, agonizing relationship he never again wished to witness: and yet he could not escape its embrace, how it danced and crackled along his body. A shrill scream tore from his throat, and beneath the flame seated in his flesh he crumbled, fell, and writhed on the ground. No one cared. No one saw. His eyes were closed, and oblivion claimed him.

Soothing mist bathed his trembling body, and in the darkness, trees swayed to the peculiar sound of wind at night. Still shaking in the darkness, sweat covering him, Mauja peered at the surroundings. He knew the forest, and he knew it perhaps a little too well for his own good — the last time he had been here had been the beginning of the end in some ways, but it was nothing he could fix now. Drawing in deep gulps of the cool night air he began to drift through the forest, a ghastly specter bathed in the moonlight. Why was he here? Was he looking for something — someone? He still remembered the face of her dragon scorching him, and forced it aside.

Voices carried to his ears, and despite knowing why couples sought out this place, he went their way. And, curious to find, that he looked upon himself and Psyche, familiar words spoken in a familiar darkness. Frowning a little he looked at the trees around him, until the moonlight betrayed a sheen in the dark. Ah, there she was. Somehow he wasn't surprised to find her there, another shadow watching something from days long gone. Silent, careful as to not disturb the memory, he walked over to her. "Ah, how things have changed..." He spoke, quietly, once he had come near her; settled easily beside her, as they once had in real life, though not close enough for their flanks to touch.

Mauja Frosthjärta