Soaring far beyond the blackened bridge of half-made wall marking the borderline of Dragon’s Throat, Silas was scouting with shrewd eyes across the turn of land beneath. His beloved was no warrior; no violent bone marred the gentleness imbedded through her core, and so regular patrols and missions alike, were as near to the thrill of a contributing army member that he could be. It was enough to indulge his fascination with the defence and protection of their home, and he filled the task with unwearying enthusiasm.

Above the summer sun held position in the vast blue pinnacle of the sky ferociously, and if not for the coolness of the air rushing aside of his path, he might easily have boiled right their beneath its wearying glare. Raven-black feathers rustled as the high altitude breeze clawed between them playfully, and his dark shadow swept quickly above the earth below- where the soft, golden sands of the harsh desert hardened into the packed, parched red soil surrounding the Heart of Helovia.

Rushing over the sea of rippling grass, he continued onwards north, dropping a little to better distinguish the flood of colours and shapes which manifested through the strange region. Apart from cutting left of the fire pit on their regular jaunts to the Threshold, Silas and Africa spent very little time exploring the Heart, and that was part of the reason he had guided the dappled mare from her sanctuary that day.

The shining face of gems stones littered the terracotta floor when finally the grass shrivelled away, and Silas swooped through the thick, suffocating heat to find Africa as she too emerged, though through the dry straw grass; hooves bound by grim gravity. They reunited affectionately, the avian fussing and flapping about her face while she half-reared with an outstretched wing to balance; uplifted face reaching in vain to bump the softness of her dark grey nose against him. There was still little understanding between the mates, though occasionally snippets like stray thoughts did streak between them; flashing through startled minds. Their bond was strong none the less, and as her fore hooves settled into the hard surface of the terrain once more, her tender, pale eyes caressed him adoringly.

Though no words were spoken, the duo continued towards the infamous lake of fire.

Silas noticed the girl first- the same Unicorn filly who had been preparing to nest in a cradle of gnarled tree roots in the Deep Forest, and he chirped harshly, though with no malicious intent; such was the nature of his crude vocabulary. She seemed to be dithering nervously by the gaping hole to the centre, and Africa’s breath caught in the base of her throat when she saw too the familiar figure, illuminated by the flames she was peering down towards.

“Cypress!” The young grey called quickly, without the concern which was brewing through her mind. At that point no other being seemed near, though Africa’s scan of their surroundings had been rather hasty. Silas swept from his favoured point upon the mare’s withers and fluttered near to where the filly was standing, not allowing his delicate plume too close to the burning edge for fear of drifting embers setting him alight.


(ooc: I hope it is alright if Africa jumps in, if not I will happily delete this ^_^ just let me know)

It was no lie that the beauty of Helovia’s blazing heart was mesmerizing; defying the imagination and terrifying the meek minded. From the air the region was a sight to behold and had suckered her on many occasions to ride upon swirling updraughts, caught in a web to circle and gaze; her wonder-filled eyes entranced by the bubbling magma and glittering landscape beneath. These days though, the dappled Oracle Africa trudged with primitive boundaries upon the soil which she had admired so many times, during a lifetime now lost. Although such travel was flanked by different perils, she was sound of mind and shrewd enough to calculate the risks throughout her endeavours- no longer was she foolish enough to throw herself into harm’s way.

Pools of pale gold glimmered with the reflection of the rogue, reaching tongues of flame when they burst from the pit- daring the proximity of the young Unicorn with greedy, hungry intent. The older mare had grown to respect the element of her mighty Lord, and even as she began to tremble for the safety of the gambolling child ahead, she could not help but wonder if he was there; watching over them, guiding them and holding them in his safe embrace. Although the Throat was his heartland, the pit of fire was naturally his element. Quietly she prayed to him as she ventured forward towards Cypress.

“Oh beautiful Father; please lay your hoof upon our shoulders while we dabble by the lake of fire. Let no harm befall us on this day.”

Africa smiled lightly, the sincerity and devotion of her worship filling her feeble heart with reassuring warmth; she trusted the Sun God, even more than the tread of her own mortal hoof. Silas followed the mare apprehensively; casting wary glowers across the oozing pit by the wayside as his beloved so bravely approached her small friend. Cypress called out in turn; her voice still as young and vigorous as her memory recalled and it pleased the Oracle deeply. She worried for the newest generations, rising into the clouds of grief and horror laid so carelessly by their predecessors- Africa tried as much as possible to leave only a positive print on the world; she wished not suffering and misfortune on those babes to follow in her footsteps.

“Hello sweet girl.” Her voice chimed delicately again, and she broke into a playful, cavorting trot to close the helpless distance which remained. As the grey pulled gently to a halt by the still slight, speckled brown filly’s location, a tender greeting was proffered by the reach of softly fluttering, blowing nostrils. “What’s been happening young traveller. Surely you must have stories to share.” Africa beamed, so delighted that their paths had been destined to cross once more- she believed in fate, and that she had little control over the path of her life. Quite spiritual had she grown since her appointment as the Diviner of her home, and she happily handed control to the Sun God whose wisdom was infinitely greater than her miserable self-will.

The query of the dappled Oracle was with pure intent and genuine interest. Always she sought the wild tales of gypsies and restless nomads alike to fill the pages of her legend books and fairytales. Although she could quite naturally concoct any number of frilly stories to fill the eager ears of the youth in her home, there was no better than those crafted by the wit of experience and drama of reality. Long coal rimed cups steadied themselves to focus upon the smaller girl, listening quietly while pastel yellow eyes sought to embrace the other’s bright gaze.

Though silent was the response, her animated face came to life, and the horn spiralling from the wave of growing russet forelock danced with the bounce of her young skull. Africa set herself in place by the waves of molten heat so close to the fire-pit, content to suffer the burden which was so very like the climate of her arid homeland. So close by the Throat, she found time now to spare and was keen to commit the hours of the afternoon to Cypress alone; with a quietly graceful enthusiasm, the Oracle looked forward to the tales to follow- perhaps more so than the young Unicorn filly could know.

“Firstly though,” She posed quickly, slipping the second thought into the conversation before her small friend could begin. “we should move from this burning lake, my feathers tremble at the sight of this flying embers!” Africa giggled gently like she had not for some time, and offered Cypress a cool sort of smile- a calm and comfortable gesture, before shrugging her shoulder and turning from the pit. As they parted from the danger, Silas clacked his beak most thankful for the wise decision, and came to rest once more with a gentle grip across his beloved’s rump.

Guiding the filly between the fissures through the hard-packed clay, and well from the molten pit’s hungry fingers pitching upwards every so often in the form of wicked blue-centred firelight, Africa felt the wave of reassurance sweep through the mind of her avian bonded; although the element had in many ways been forced upon their demure world, he still found little comfort in its daring, cunning warmth. “Fear not!” She thought silently, goading him, despite fire being possibly the only matter he had ever showed discomfort near. The opportunity to play and joke rarely rose between them; their bond was still as soft and new as the palest dawn, and each held a seriousness and carefulness that had not yet been breached altogether by the comforts of effortless understanding. Silas grumbled in response to the teasing, and sank beneath the silk his razor-sharp talons a little deeper. The pinch caused Africa’s mood to stiffen slightly, and her companion clucked in triumph.

At last they came to rest by the sheer wall of straw-like grass; it grew tall and rigid, easily passing above the dappled mare’s withers. The loam was still parched and dusty, and her weight was not cushioned like when she paused through the sand of her home, but Africa was contented enough to simply be rid of the ominous red-glow, and infernal, revolting heat. A warm, dry breeze swirled around them, lifting the sheet of powdery dust from the rust-red crust beneath so that the gemstones glistened as the face of the crowning sun shed its ultra-violet light upon them. “Aren’t they lovely?” Africa mentioned, lowering her nose with a snort to further cleanse the treasure which had caught her eye, more so than the others strewn below the ground surrounding. “Did you know, Cypress, that these gems cannot be unearthed? Even the greediest heart could not conjure the strength to thieve such beauty from this bed of clay.

There is a tale of one monster; part-horse, part-man, whose eyes were as green as the kelp lining the bottom of the sea, and skin as naked as the fish who feeds upon it. He found this land one summer and spent every hour trying in vain to excavate the gems so that he could hide them away in his mouldy, stale den, and never share them with the creatures of Helovia. So selfish and so gluttonous were his intentions that he became too distracted to notice his skin burning, peeling and withering away- and soon too, his body melted into the earth. It is told that his blood boils still to this day with rage… (she gestured back the way they had come, to where the lake still bubbled beneath a rippling blanket of hot air), and the dust stirring around us is all that remains of his body.”

Africa didn’t know truly if the story was real, the winds travelled Helovia whispering a myriad of tales, all captivating and utterly believable. She smiled and shrugged though, remembering that Cypress had wanted to speak some time ago now; gingerly the Oracle reached with her nose to encourage her young friend. “Tell me everything dear, from beginning to end.”