It is a beautiful night, Akaith.

It is always beautiful here.

What do you mean, love?

Here, we are home. Here, we are whole. Here, we are never lost, forgotten, or neglected, for even as we walk in our solitude, the moon's rays bathe us in her ethereal glow, always.

Until morning, my love.

---

But the Moon didn't set that morning. Some how, I knew the passing of time had eventuated, I knew that it was long past the time in with the solar orb of the Sun should have risen on the eastern horizon, washing over the lands with his illustrious golden paintbrush. And yet, he did not rise. I can't say I missed him terribly - what I have missed for most of my life were these lands.

I see them now, so clear and perfect, pristine and whole before me. With curiosity I watch Akaith, her golden scales muted by the moonlight, but made all the beautiful for it, dancing on the delicate breeze that rustles the leaves around us. I laugh with her, my tones as musical as the notes she crafts with her draconic singsong voice. We dance together, in the moonlight.

And suddenly, there are more dancers, more laughter, more love. A fire alights beside me, one that reminds me so much of the sun that has not risen, and yet I know this being not to be of the sun, but of blood. My blood. Our blood.

Voraer.

He grins at me, the emotion streaking across his façade in a brilliant display of happiness and raw emotion. He is so full of life, I cannot help but feel his lifeforce pulsing within him, bursting at the seems. With a delicate stroke of my body, I lean against him, feeling the warmth, the flesh, the heartbeat that makes up half of who I am. My father laughs his deep, dangerous laughter, and dances a devilish dance with Akaith that only he could ever accomplish.

There is another, who moves silently, subtly, I do not sense her by my side until Voraer's display is complete. With surprise I look into eyes that match my own, a chiselled tiara that mimics the curves of my own dished face, a body sculpted from the very shadows with which she dances.

Anei.

Her eyes alight with the delight she holds, for she was forever the master of her emotions, she was as devious and crafty as they came, only allowing the emotion she chose to play upon her lips. It was her eyes I sought out, mesmerising as they were, and within them, I saw myself, my life, how it ran parallel to her, how I had travelled a full circle to come to this point.

Home, we are home, Akaith!

"No, my dear, you are not home here." Akaith's voice spoke, but it was not Akaith speaking - it was Anei.

"But this is my home! The Path of the Moon!"

"You have found your Path, and it is not here - not yet. My dear, it is time to awaken."

---

Real. It all had felt so real. Tremors shook the little mare's frame, sweat ran down her flanks, stained the area behind her ears. Akaith's mental pull upon her was slightly frantic.

What is it, dear one?

Before the dragon even replied, she knew.

The tremors that shook her body were not from the dream that had seemed so real. They were from the contractions that stretched and loosened her, that rippled through her in great waves of pain and agony.

The mare had been a recluse of late, hiding her condition from all aside from her family, and those close to her. She had not neglected her duties as leader, merely, conducted herself from afar - relied upon Thor, Hellena and Rishima to take most of the responsibility from her heavily burdened shoulders. Draped in her illusionary cloak, the little mare had not needed to try very hard to avoid contact with those around her, becoming the very shadows her mother had been born from. Mother..

The pain. It was comparable to the pain she suffered when she transformed into her other form - another thing she had avoided doing since that rendezvous at the beach. She didn't know if the life within her would survive such a transformation. She didn't even know if it would survive the birth.

Fear was not something that often trickled its way into the mare's emotional radar. But it had managed to get there this evening, even beneath the comforting rays of Luna's silver glow. But what did the mare fear?

Akaith sent out the alarm as her bonded fell to the ground, knees buckled and hocks folded beneath her. A deep groan rolled from her gut, as Mirage was vaguely aware of those around her - Vikram, Torasin, her brothers, her sister. And her bondmate, of course.

The little golden queen did her best to take the pain of her bonded away from her. Laying eggs certainly was not this painful, and it took her by as much surprise as it had taken Mirage.

The time had come.

Small hooves appeared first, before in a tangled, wet mess, a crumpled pile of leathery wings and champagne fur, the first daughter of the DragonHeart took her breath. It was not over yet, no, as within seconds the next was seen, similar hued but with subtle differences in the features decorating her.

Pain, the pain. There was blood, pooling around the mare's hocks. Too much blood. The fillies had many sharp edges, and more than one of them caught upon their mother as they made their way out. Hazily, she lifted her crown, blinked back the stinging tears, and saw her children with her golden eyes.

But it lasted only a second, before her tiara became too heavy to hold, and it slumped down in the turf unceremoniously - unconsciously.

Movement told of the living daughters, but very little movement was coming from the mare. One would hope a healer to see to her wounds before her life bled out just as her daughters' lives began.