Everything had a delicate balance, an equilibrium that it must maintain. The power of the Gods was great, but it took all of the Gods combined powers to create the lands that were Helovia. Though one God might reign supreme for a time, it was only ever temporary; either the other Gods grew too jealous and revolted, or the supreme one found the power requirements too great and fell off their perch of their own accord. The foolishness of the Gods was akin to that of the mortals who were designed in their image, though mortals were prone to even greater foolishness, such were the flaws in their design. The fall of the Sun was met with squinted eyes; the golden gaze of Mirage watched from a distance as the battle, which had begun late in the grand scheme of things, raged on. The obsidian mare had longed to face off the lion herself, despite the friendship she held with Flicker and the confused frazzle of emotions that went along with it. Her cloak shimmered over her bodice, her presence easily missed by the grieving unicorn that passed by her and walked towards the fallen lion. It was then that Mirage looked sadly to the fallen Pegasus, forlorn for his fate. But such was the way of things – there was little she could do to change what had happened. But perhaps she could help the young unicorn whom she felt a softness within her breast for.

Keen flutes detected the words the other mare asked the lion, wondering what Ra had been before turning into this maniacal cult leader. Akaith was elsewhere this morning, Mirage preferred her draconic friend absent during interactions with the young Flicker, knowing the unicorn sometimes felt uncomfortable with her – discomfort was not something Mirage wished upon the filly. Even so, the urge to waltz over and polish the lion-horse off once and for all was tempting, all it would take was a firm hoof placed with direct force atop his cranium – no, she mustn’t, she couldn’t do that to the unicorn. He was on his way out already – perhaps it was better to let him suffer, let him ponder his twisted ways and see the wrong he wrought. Mirage disliked him initially for the harm he brought to her friend, Torasin; she disliked him doubly so due to the uprise of the Sun God he was leading. Her alliance with the Moon God seemed to fuel her growing list of reasons to kill the despicable lion – but no, she would not. The shimmering cloak upon her bodice was shed, and the mare allowed a warm whicker to be sent to the dark hued unicorn. Her velvet nose reached out, intending to offer a gentle stroke of comfort to her. Golden pools looked only to the unicorn – if she allowed her gaze to rest upon the fallen one for a mere second, her control might slip and the bloodlust within her might break free.

“Sometimes there is no rhyme nor reason to life.” Speaking simply, she knew not what more she could add. She was not sorry the lion was dying, but she was sorry that his passing might trigger a tumult of conflict within one she hoped to call a close friend one day.

The choking, dying breaths of the lion fell upon unforgiving ears. Mirage’s opinion of the creature would not change; he was a fool, now a dead fool. He was misguided, and though the mare wondered for what love this sun streaked beast died for, she did not truly care enough to demand further explanation. If his words were given in attempt to comfort the unicorn, they had nearly the polar opposite effect. The obsidian one watched as the emotions roamed all over the young one, and she stood, a stony statue, holding anything she might be feeling inside. The rage that Flicker threw at the lion’s body revealed the very depths of her torments, her combined love and hatred for the lion. Mirage understood, she had spent a lifetime observing the emotional outbreaks of others, and rarely allowing her own self to show them. The emotions were there, within her, she simply had a firm grip upon which ones she showed when. The feelings of abandonment, devotion, love and loathing were a harsh mixture to be dealing with; each one piled on top of the other would cause the symptoms of a grieving follower Flicker was displaying.

Mirage watched as the young belle fell to the ground, and at last she seemed to be aware of her own presence. Eyes sought each other out, and Mirage complied to the silent beckoning, folding her own limbs beneath her, lending her dark build to the femme to treat as a comforting rock to steady herself against. Tiara leaned over the other’s nape, and she held the youth, svelte ears easily capturing the whispered words. “Hush now, dear little Flicker.” Soothing melodies hummed from the charred one’s maw. “He could have been saved, had he wanted to be.” The stallion’s madness was a sickness of the mind, it was the only explanation, the charred femme was sure. He got in his own way, he couldn’t see anything wrong with his actions, no matter the objections others might pose to him – you can only help those who will accept the help. “You are free, Flicker, free to live life the way you want.” Quietly the mare murmured, not wanting to overload the already shaken filly with ideals she perhaps hadn’t considered. Mirage longed to welcome the filly into the Qian’s safe and secure hold, but she would not, could not, force it upon the belle. Silence ensued, and the mare simply awaited the response, ever present and ready for whatever may come.

Maybe freedom was an illusion, maybe in some way or another, it was a myth, one that everyone always strove for but never truly obtained. After all, one is always controlled by something; some external force was forever present to alter the way one might have originally planned on doing things. The natural elements, the hierarchy of the herd one might live in, the laws of the land overall, all were added elements working against the notion of freedom. But surely freedom of choice existed, the freedom to choose whether these elements affected you or not?

Maybe freedom was indeed just an illusion, but then, so was Mirage.

The little shadow leaned back as the young belle shifted her weight, and with small shreds of approval evident in her golden gaze she watched the other mare regain her composure and outlook on the world. She made to speak, her query causing Mirage to shake her head from side to side gently, admitting she knew very little of Ra, aside from him leading the Order of the Sun. The Moon Goddess had mentioned him, and it was only now that Mirage found it odd that the Goddess should know of him at all. Silently she assigned the task of posing the query to the divine Goddess to herself, her curiosity for wanting to know more about the past so that such mistakes might not be repeated clear.

Flicker spoke, and her story surprised Mirage, though the mare did not show it.

So Ra was capable of kindness, actual, genuine kindness, though he seemed to be plagued by guilt for it. He loved, as he had claimed in his last breath, even Flicker could see it. But what love could drive him to such extremes? This is most unusual, it makes no sense, I shall seek out my divine Lady and see if she can clear my confusion with her wisdom. The shadowy mare listened with interest, even though the one telling the tale seemed only vaguely aware that she had an audience. Mirage was happy to see her at peace, at least a more peaceful countenance than the one she had mere moments before.

“Thank you for telling me, Flicker.” She murmured quietly.

“It is never too late to save yourself. Rid yourself of this guilt, and embrace life.” The mare commented, her tones warm and potentially leading on to other things. “I want only to help you, Flicker, you have the protection of the Qian, and my friendship – two things you needn’t ever question.” Touching her muzzle to the belle’s nape, Mirage blew warm air affectionately over her. Whether she longed to swear herself to Mirage or not, the mare would extend the band’s hospitality to the youth.