He held himself with a great manner of poise, I noted with approval, though it was not until he continued to speak that I found out just why. Within our lands, there was the young Israfel. Mother had explained to me the circumstances of her conception, her birth - she had a God's blood running through her veins, and not just any God, but the Lord of the Flame and Light, Lord Solar, God of the Sun - the one who urged the great fiery orb to rise in the East every morning, and set over the western sea in the evenings. As this Mesec spoke, I was sure my eyes might have widened in the realisation that he was the same - only, different - as our young Israfel. In my surprise, I felt something stir within me, something awaken - and suddenly, I was feeling much more complete, as the magic of my soul sparked and summoned a friend.

Daryth chirped a strange, ghostly tone from his perch upon my back, his small dark form a strange shadowy shape - if he were to fly, he would be nearly invisible in the darkness of the night, despite him being an embodiment of a soul constructed purely from light. I feel his presence against my own mind, and I take comfort in it. He hushes the multitude of questions I wish to ask him - Why did you disappear last time? How do I hold onto you for longer? Should I call for father, or mother, to greet this son of our wondrous Goddess? - and simply reminded me that Mesec had asked a question that I was yet to answer. Without realising it, I find myself with my tiara tilted to view the dark smudge of a dragon upon my back, and swiftly I compose myself, looking with renewed interest at the colt before me.

"Amaris," I say, stepping forward, closing more distance between myself and the winged, horned youth. I seek to hold his silver gaze, to explore the dashes of pewter that decorated his flanks, wings and delightfully sculpted façade, to see within him traces of the Goddess I was yet to view with my own eyes. I feel compelled even, to reach out with my muzzle, and feel the touch of his own skin - and I wonder if he would allow such a thing, even as I make the motion. Why does he seek flower? Daryth's deep, comforting voice questions in my head, and once again I am reminded of the words the young steed spoke, of seeking a midnight flower. I had not taken notice of such a thing - truly, Hellena was probably the most ideal soul to ask - but I knew of places within our herdland that contained the most lush growth of wildflowers, even in this winter that dropped snow over them, they still peeked out.

"Why does she want a flower?" Perhaps it was unwise of me to question the reasons a Goddess behaved a certain way, maybe it was foolish even to question her demigod son - who knew what he was capable of. But standing so near to him, feeling the way the moonlight accepted his presence, and the quiet way in which Daryth did not fuss, all led me to feel like I could inherently trust him - maybe even, like him, befriend him.