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The rain had delayed her, forcing her to walk from the desert of her home around to the peninsula. Had the painted girl known that she would have been held from the skies by this torrential downpour, she would have left much sooner. In her heart, the shaman partially doubted that the stallion would even remember their promise. After all, the boy had run from her side before she had even offered a proper answer. Still, the flicker of doubt in her chest would not hold her back. A promise was a promise.
Now, the mare just hoped she would not be too late.

Seeking refuge under the curve of her wing is the small little songbird; his mood is sour, not even attempting to hide his dismal attitude about meeting this silver-tongued fool out in the Veins of the Gods. Normally, on the first day of summer, Onni would greet the sun with a song. Instead, they greeted the sunrise behind the clouds with busily plodding feet traveling as swiftly as possible to the meeting place. Lyhty thought the whole ordeal was stupid, dramatic, and unnecessary. However, you will note that the bird chose to accompany her still, never leaving her side for long.

With relief and a fast canter, Onni finally gets a glimpse of blue light in the distance, picking up her speed in the flat terrain to speed forward. The blonde and ivory mane slicks back on her neck, her pale face. Muddied tail races behind like a heavy weight, wings long since drenched. Despite her ruined appearance, even with the sun hiding behind the storm, the shaman glows like a golden lantern. Her figure is easily distinguished from the dreary surrounds, all bright-eyed and foolish racing about in the rain.

The pale colored hooves do not falter as she easily makes her way up the pathway she had traveled so many times. Her pace remains fast, leaping over larger streams of lava and making Lyhty chirp uneasily every time. Then, she sees him.

A dark silver figure distorted by the rain, a gleaming white horn in the distance.
Amazed but happy, Onni pushes down on her hind end like uneasy breaks, settling on an easy trot toward his side, the smile on her face beaming more brightly than her golden aura.

"Carnesîr! You came!" she says, voice eager and happy. "Sorry I am so late... the rain made it impossible to fly." Sheepish, a smile as she waves a soggy chocolate wing toward him. The more time she stood, the more awkward she began to realize this situation was. Had he discovered the truth in his home, the racist tendencies? Would he accuse her of lying? Would he even be happy she arrived as promised?

All there could be in this moment is hope. Luckily, Onni is the most hopeful fool in the world.

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For all her brightness, the face which greets Onni is gloomier than the rain surrounding the land. The expression of happiness wavers, a flicker of candlelight, bringing the corners of her lips to a more sobered place. The rain soaked through her mane, the pale tendrils clinging to her face, her neck, sticking like glue. Finally, all the drops feeling like pelted ice under coldly lit eyes. Immediately, the Illuminant freezes, realizing that her emotions may not be the same as her company. Relief felt at seeing the figure of a friend, but now that gnawing doubt radiates through her limbs.
What if his search for knowledge left hatred in his heart for her?

Another protesting chirp ringing from the bird, announcing his presence but also quietly the berating their company for being so dreary. Ruining the mood of the amiable girl, making his worse. A horrible friend to meet in the rain.

"Yes?" she whispers into the pattering of rain, peering through the streaks of gray toward the solemn expression of Carnesîr's face.

When his words finally gather enough strength to climb above the dull roar of the storm, the pale faced girl nods calmly, a response showing both that she understood and knew of the Qian. A sad smile on her face. Doubtfully, the shaman glances toward the glowing blue floor, hissing as the drops fall into the pulsating lava. "The Qian are the moon's children," she says. "My mother has long been close with Mirage the DragonHeart, leader of the Qian and World's Edge." Pausing for a moment, Onni realizes that he has no idea who her mother is, what that would mean. "Basically, my home and theirs are allied."

Sidestepping being the daughter of the land's longest standing warlord - probably a good idea for this conversation.

"Mauja resided as King in the World's Edge when I came to Helovia. The herd occupied by strictly unicorns, much like the Basin now. Then, the Qian were an outcast band, allied with the Tuuli who captured the Dragon's Throat herd." Pale eyes glance toward him, cautious not to speak too quickly. Unfamiliar words being bandied about, Carnesîr would likely get lost. "Living in the Wilds is not easy in this land; it is no wonder that many prefer to graces of herd life. In order to care for her family, the Qian, allied with the Dragon's Throat and the Foothills under Paladin, invaded and captured the World's Edge."
"I healed the soldiers of the Qian and their allies after the battle."

Another quiet, melancholy smile through the rain. Onni thinks of the fires, the smell of blood, the broken bodies, and the death of Jaydan. One of her few friends, if she would be so lucky to be considered as such.

Looking toward him with sincerity on her face, but also a touch of guilt boiling in her heart, the shaman is a little lost for words. How to make him understand? "Otherwise, the Qian are a peaceable herd. All they sought was a home."

The second set of questions, the Illuminant is not as ready to answer. Pausing, looking toward him with a blank look, the winged girl walks past him. She brings herself toward the singed altar, bowing her head toward it. An uneasy breath, the painted girl wavers before it. How she wished the God of the Sun would clear the rain, change this conversation, erase her past. Despite the kindness in her heart, how is she still so stained? "Lend me your strength," she whispers. Before raising her head, the mare pauses once more, studying the ruined surface of the once great tribute.

"Isilme," her voice calls over the rain, behind her. Pale face turning, Onni looks at Carnesîr with an even expression on her face. "I am from Isilme, the land of twilight. A land overrun by the dead."

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A child of the sun.

Onni smiles sadly, thinking how she is the daughter of a warlord and a shapeshifting absentee. If life had been perfect, the shaman would have been born with the rising of the sun in Helovia. Despite the challenges posed by this realm, it endured, it existed. Isilme held many memories. Many were fond, bright thoughts enough to bring smiles to her face. The others, the vast majority, however, were memories filled with loss, turmoil, death, destruction. The great ending of her life in Isilme came with the shadows of the dead eating the land and inhabitants with their anger.

How she wished to be a child of the sun she loved so dearly. He may not understand or know it, but Onni is much more dark than her bright, shining appearance lets on.

The tears on his face are not in recognition of her loss. Carnesîr, for all of his good intentions, has no idea how to glimpse through her eyes and see the graves of her beloved friends, her mentor, her former homes. The small droplets are mixed with the rain, lost to her eyes. The saddened expression, his darkened words, they are not for any sake other than his. Whatever war rages within his heart is not the same as Onni's, yet broken and bloodied hearts seem to sink together. Darkness eats us all.

"Darkness waits for us all," she agrees, thinking sadly about her troubles the past few seasons. The cold of the rain upon her back reminiscent of the absence of sunlight felt during the winter. "But, I do not believe it can consume you without your permission."

Her pale eyes look to his dark, wet face for a glimmer or understanding, of recognition to her words. How much will he understand? Carnesîr seemed proficient enough in her language, but the shaman could never be certain. "I am no more a child of sun than you. I simply choose to follow his path the best I can," a clarification offered, in hopes at least this meaning would get through. He seems so troubled, so saddened; Onni only hopes that she can pull him from this state. "Every light casts a shadow, and every shadow needs a light."

You just need to have faith.

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Perhaps I should take to following sun then. The shaman smiles, a blessed expression. Just the thought of the Lord of Light is enough to lift her spirits. If he would to gain a follower out of this friendship, Onni would be glad. The golden deity had been misunderstood by many, especially following the Tallsun of his wrath. However, the painted girl always suspected the harsh and often cruel words and actions of the Sun were due to a sensitive if not guarded heart. He who fights the hardest has the largest heart, at least according to her mother.

"He is a kind soul," the healer says mostly to herself, though certainly loud enough for Carnesîr to hear. There is plenty that she could say to sway the stallion toward the path of fire and light, but he was not requesting a sermon. Instead, she stands with a blissful smile on her face, looking blindly past the rain falling around them. It is not until the grullo speaks again that she returns to reality, glancing toward the dark shrouded face.

Finally, something disturbs her inner peace. It is not particularly surprising, but Carnesîr would likely not be welcomed warmly in her home. Shifting her weight about on her legs, rain soaking through her coat and wings, Lyhty chirping uneasily from his canopy beneath the feathered limbs. While Onni trusted the stallion, she doubted that any in her herd would be too fond of his visit, seeing as they were recently invaded by his herd.

A frown grows on her face. "I..." Looking from the ground toward his retreating eyes, the shaman feels the pull of guilt. Her trust should be enough to guide him safely through her home. Kri would likely not understand, but Midas was reasonable. "I will take you, if you wish." A weak smile, but still as genuine as ever.