Helovia was in the grip of a terrible darkness. Vast expanses of the land had been swallowed, and even beyond those borders walked creatures that were neither living nor dead. Some of the inhabitants of the land had found sanctuary in the underground caverns near Helovia’s Heart. Yes, they were safe there, but the equidae were not made to hide under the earth, and they had started to fight back; Megaera was among this number. Lead by Gaucho, the sultan of her own herd, the small gathering of warriors had convened in the glowing cave to decide how to fight the darkness. Meg had been dubbed a Sigul of the W.A.R. effort. They knew so little of their enemy and so the young mare had been sent to scout.

The mare moved north from the Sanctuary on foot, setting a hard pace and only stopping for short periods of time, uneasy as she was on the ground. She’d always been quickest in the air; her wings would have carried a much larger pegasus than she, and with them she was as agile and any bird in flight. But the fire had grounded her until the molt that would come in birdsong. The fires of the Heart had ravaged her front legs and muzzle as well. The skin there had healed over and in time they might fade a little more, but she would carry the evidence of those burns forever. A reminder of her own recklessness.

Meg was forming an odd relationship with fire. In fire she’d experienced terror as she never had before, but it was not the flames that she feared any longer. The flames had been teachers and her burns a lesson of what she could bring upon herself if she didn’t think. In the years to come, she’d understand this lesson fully, but she was still young, and her reckless heart was not so quiet yet. Near fire, she had met her dearest friend, and than blaze had been warm and welcoming: a guardian in the night. As she ventured out to fight the darkness, Megeara was wreathed in flames. They rippled through her mane and tail, sprouted around her black hooves and shimmered in her clipped wings. These flames did no harm to the mare, like all in her heard she had been blessed with them by their patron Sun God and they were a comfort to her as she ventured into Helovia. A talisman against the darkness.

She picked her way through the dense forest, making as little sound as she could, but the trees were close and the brush was think underfoot so her path was followed by soft crack and snaps. It could not be too far to the place that she herself had first touched down in Helovia. A distant scream had Meg slamming to a halt. Her body went on full alert: ears pricked high and frame tense. Someone was shouting and she could hear the pain in it but the words were lost in in the echoes of the forest. A part of her wanted to turn and run back the way she’d come, but something in her made her press forward, a mix of the drive to serve the cause, and that reckless impulse she was trying to control.

She moved with caution, sure that someone had been attacked by one of the foul wraiths that were infecting the land. She came in sight of the stallion as he brought himself to his feet and she paused again, letting her eyes dart around in search of a second body, an attacker, but there didn’t seem to be one. Her focus fell on the spotted stallion as he began to move. He didn’t appear to have been taken by the darkness, but there were angry burns on the shoulder that was facing her and so she stood her ground. “You there!” she calls, he voice lower than most of her sex, and tense with her militaristic bearing. “If it was a wraith that got you, turn and leave this land. The Sickness will not be tolerated here!” As she spoke, she noticed that the beast seemed to be suffering more than physical pain, and a wraith attack seemed less and less likely.

“If you’ve not been infected I can help you.” Her voice had softened some when she spoke again. Carefully, slowly, the earth-colored mare picked her way through the brush towards the stallion. The flames that danced around her gave no heat, but they brightened the dim forest around her. She could see the stallion much better and decided that he had not yet met the darkness. He was in pain surely, but that, at least, was not a threat at this time. “I am Megaera, of Dragons Throat. Helovia is not safe for any traveler these days. I can help you. “

megaera
someday we may see a woman king, sword in hand
swing at some evil and bleed