Perhaps a new light really did sweep across the young grey mare, or maybe it was the release of cascading sunshine as a large eagle swept across the stark expanse of vivid blue sky and his formidable shadow dulled the daylight for a split second. As she watched her golden-eyed brother unfurl the mass of sleek feathered wings, Africa felt an impatient giddiness rise through her body; the curious tickle of pins and needles caused by the onslaught of adrenaline through the network of her veins. She too opened her wingspan then, expanding them upwards as though each long quill would dip into the sun’s crimson halo, savouring the strangely wonderful sensation of trying stiffened, well worn muscles. Eagerly, her body followed suit stretching out the day’s inactivity, preparing for this certain mystery flight which would see the horses home.

Finally Midas lifted away. Africa rose into a half-rear where she balanced effortlessly across her taught hind legs, flapping steadily in the same moment, before she too hauled herself into the air. Quickly and efficiently she followed his altitude, wings beating powerfully as they pressed across the bridge of warm breeze- swoosh, swoosh. She smiled inwardly, still reeling with excitement, and now overcome with the sheer unavoidable ecstasy flight endowed. It was a pleasure indeed to wheel so high above the ground, at complete liberty and unrestrained in any way. She did not answer the black and white stallion with words when he spoke, instead nodding against the burst of wind against her face and dipping into a light-hearted, mid air bound as she caught up, beside him.

Her eyes closed to a protective squint as they turned southward, and she gazed down to view the blur of matchstick pines blending one forest with another (she of course knew not that they had already left the Threshold and were making haste high above the skirt of a different forest). The landscape was a marvellous patchwork of colours, and tilting her face right, Africa could see a snaking river cutting through a vast, golden meadow- yellowed and dry undoubtedly, by this harsh season. To the left, far in the distance she imagined she could see a deep blue expanse, ocean perhaps and she thought about the secrets this world held, how she would seek them out; she would learn quickly and adapt in the true spirit of her journey; she would thrive in Helovia.

~

She could not tell how much time had passed- it did not matter. The sweat had caked already across her dappled hide, and the rushing air had cooled Africa to a comfortable body temperature. They had been flying gently over a desolate desert like setting for some time, though the grey mare never seemed to tire of the myriad of changing colour combinations; reds shifting to orange, and then pale gold and red. Few trees broke the cycle, and those that did snag her relaxed attention span were almost naked and quite skeletal as they reached desperately towards her lofty perspective.

Midas’s direction altered slightly and Africa felt the change instinctually as they worked to alternate wing beats. Still she followed his lead and switched her eyes quickly to trace the words from his lips as the roaring wind dragged the hum of his voice with her flapping forelock past the careful recline of her ears. Her lips peeled back into a broad smile, square teeth drying the instant they were exposed, and Africa’s eyes fell once again, this time to soak up the extravagant detail of Dragons Throat. Watchfully the mare noted the more significant land-points- a steep rocky pinnacle there, a valley in the lolling dunes here; she made certain to remember. Fleetingly, the ignorant horse wondered how they were to survive in such a bleak habitat, but after passing a puzzled glance by Midas she was comforted to remember that he was in such fine form.

Soon enough, an oasis revealed itself, beginning as a rippling heat-haze on the horizon. As they neared however, Africa was delighted by the transformation of sand into a wide lake, surrounded by lush green grass and spatters of well nourished tree clusters. They began to descend towards the sanctuary and almost immediately, the mare was struck by choking heat, like a wall into which she had inadvertently flown. Her eyes closed, and it took moments for them to open properly and grow accustomed to the violent difference in heat; the dry, dead desert air which she had never before experienced. Automatically tears welled in the corners of her eyes making desperate attempt to rehydrate. As she pulled up in a flurry of hot air and flapping wings across a small well clipped grassy lawn, Africa quickly bent her neck to rub her eyes along an outstretch forelimb. “Wow...” she declared with a good sportsman like chuckle. “This is certainly a contrast to the forest.”