The sun came up as they journeyed home, peering curiously over the horizon before emerging into full strength above them. It set a fire to their bones and a blaze in their blood; they basked in its radiance, the promises it offered. They had spent the majority of their lives trapped in darkness, wrapped in the cold embrace of a starlit sky- the advent of warmth and fall of the dark was a brilliant reminder of how beautiful the world could be.

The Edge was dark, but their mother was there, ready to welcome her children home. The rush of affection was something foreign to the filly and her brother; they loved it and loathed it, confused by the kisses and yearning for more. Natraj demonstrated his skill with flame, and Tandavi was snatched under Kali's wing. The griffin braided her hair, supple talons weaving an elegant tangle of coils and knots. She cooed a song the pair did not understand, blending feline and avian tones into something eerily beautiful and hauntingly piercing, while Rishima told stories of lands far away in dark and wistful tones, painting a picture of past adventures and secrets untold.

They fled soon after, eager to find secrets and tales of their own, suddenly stifled by the woods they had grown in and the family they loved. They had spent time cast away from home, and were stronger now for their trials. The desert sand stained empty spatters on their hearts, a fragment of scattered thoughts and memories left with them for years to come. It was dismal and dark, but also vast, expansive, a world full of promise and desire and tales and strangers. Now they streaked through the land in a flurry of hooves and blackened fur, a bright young filly and her three-tailed brother with hearts newly inflamed and steel in their eyes. Next time they would not stand and watch on the distant shore. Next time they would not sit helpless as others defended their sorry corpses. Next time they would be prepared to fight, to bleed, to die for a cause they knew not but sought to defend nevertheless. For Amaris. For Mother. For family.

The bridge was an invitation, the rough waves a test; they stepped on stone and smelled the salt, let wind tear at the newly braided hair with curious fingers and smiled. Girl and her shadow, they trod lightly on a path warm with memories and soft with history, stained with desire and lust and greed. Blue fire and molten rock; Natraj ran ahead and Tandavi trailed after, black eyes wide to take in the world around her. She had seen so little and heard so much, the firechild born to a wanderer's heart; she filed it all away into the recesses of her mind, giddy with the delight of forming new memories and the anticipation of new adventure.

The ground around her grew momentarily dark. Tandavi frowned, looking up just in time to see a pegasus streak away to land atop the island, out of sight but well in mind. A sudden fierce protectiveness burned high in the child's heart, mixed with tantalizing curiosity and untempered by wariness. Who was he to invade her sacred space, steal the memories she had come to build, change her fate with his presence uninvited? And yet her steps beat faster, stride brought long with dizzying anticipation at discovering just who and what and why and how, at learning the stranger's name and scent and if she will love or loathe him. Her brother burned with the overflow of excitement, a howl let loose to the gods and the sky, gold eyes glowing in the cloudy cyan light.

They creeped above the lip of the ledge, in time to hear the colt's soft voice echo back from silent stone. The shrines sat quiet in the summer sun, tame companions for a boy so brave, but she heard them beat against her heart, a pulse of magic present here that dances with her own in a dizzying foxtrot. Green and vibrant, the plants that sprung at the boy's pluck a string of distant memories, a past before she fled her home. He reeked of familiarity and and absent name, but bigger now, a nearly-grown stallion and a half-grown mare, both alone and innocent in their own ways. Brown, blue, bronze and blonde, the stallion cast an imprint on the filly's mind, and she felt something hot ignite in her chest.

She thought about leaving, but decided that would be dull. In the space between them her voice seeped, far too deep for a girl so small, roughly melodious and unapologetically curious.

"Why are you lost?"

@[Hototo]