The greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love, be loved in return.

It was an immortal phrase, passed down through the centuries, in writings, whispered in a lover's svelte ear, shouted proudly across plains, etched in stone, bestowed upon the mortals of the realm by the Gods - the ability to adore, to treasure, to love another.

The Worlds Edge seemed to hum with that love today. A shadow walked the lands, her steps gentle, subtle; curious. Her own bodice hummed with the satisfaction of knowing that she was loved, and not just by one other, but by many, many who would call her their leader, their sister, their friend, their mate. Vikram generated stirrings within her no others could inspire, but that didn't mean her love was reserved only for him.

She was born into darkness, into a land of eternal moonlight - Mirage's first love was the Moon, and then, her family. Akaith stole her soul soon after, covering her in a glittering, golden blanket of warmth, adoration, trust, giving her company where others would disappear, unable to keep up with the little shadow's wandering ways.

Vikram had unleashed a carnal desire within her, an urge to listen to the biological cravings her body tormented her with every ripened season. There was love there, a love so fitting she did not know why it had taken most of her life to find that missing piece of her puzzle - and yet, had it happened any other way, it simply would not have been so.

A soft, playful laughter touched the breeze, a shimmering apparition danced along the edges of sight of the two who stood within her home. The sweet, flowery scent of the WeyrLeader permeated the scene, muffled footfalls of one who knew every inch of the land she danced upon, who knew where she could pass by almost completely undetected. Then, suddenly, there was silence, and it was deafening.

A black mare stood to the left of the couple.

And she was smiling.

"Love is something we celebrate, not punish." Kind words dripped from her maw, accented tones presenting them with warmth and honesty. "I am Mirage." With a delicate, purposeful motion she curved her nape, so that her chin would bump against the plump pectoral muscles of her chest, a greeting to the little palomino that so obviously held the heart of her once-captor.

With her curiosity silently filling the space of time between her last words and whoever spoke next; the little shadow patiently waited.