How anyone could stand to be near her after what she had done and tried to do, after what she had been, was beyond the painted beauty. How Lena found courage to step forward and wrap her neck around Kahlua's own was the eighth wonder of the world, and yet Kahlua didn't stop or question. She fell forward, welcoming the embrace of that who was supposed to be the devil. The woman from the icy north, her sworn enemy by house but friends by those chance meetings that had brought them together. They were a romeo and juliet story, two families divided, but perhaps this was the beginnings of something greater. She had reached out to Mauja, sought his friendship, found it and taken it, murderer though he was, and the pair had made something greater than either of them alone. Could this be the same, another brook joining Kahlua's river- a river flowing towards a greater union than just peaceful horses of the Edge. It was a river flowing towards an ocean of gentle life, unicorn and equine and pegasus swimming together. Was this embrace the beginning of it all? Kahlua hoped so, and she hung her head back across Lena's withers, if she was allowed.

Still, through all of it, she could not find a smile, not even at Lena's new song that soothed her burning limbs, that washed away Imogen's fire in the cool rain of her voice. How many ways could Kahlua be indebted to this lovely unicorn with the heart of gold? And to think, even after all Lena had done for her, she still forgave her. Kahlua was beside herself, heart torn in two so it could feel the range of emotions that were racing through her. Travesty, devastation that she could have done what she did to her friends and family. Joy, elation that she was healthy again, that she was forgiven for her sinful acts and the black heart that had overtaken her.

“Lena,” she managed finally, the sobs subsided because of Lena's song and Imogen's innocence, because of Nao's silent but watchful eyes. “Lena, you saved me,” she said, almost like she didn't believe it, and she wasn't sure she did. Did she really feel so alive? Was it really so easy? She looked around her, took several steps to the side, seeing if the death that had followed her would still trail behind. But the plants did not wither and turn black, the grass did not dry to brown and crack. Only hoofprints followed where she went, pressing into the luscious grasses and springing back when she moved on. “How can I ever thank you?” Her blue eyes looked earnestly toward the mare, awaiting the answer. She was usually so selfish, so self-absorbed, but this was not something that could be ignored. She had been brought back from the dead.